Claimed by Shadow Page 0,98

clue that you are hanging with the wrong crowd when you have beer, guns and about a ton of ammunition, but no clean clothes.

Marlowe looked slightly put out that his bombshell wasn't causing the uproar he'd expected, but he continued nonetheless. "You've entrusted yourself to Pritkin's care, but you know virtually nothing about him! The Circle has obviously sent him to kill you.”

"This is a perfect example of what vamps do, Cassie!" Mac thundered. "They cobble together some half-truths that leave them looking lily-white and the rest of us covered in shite!”

"He needs your help to find the other rogue," Marlowe told me earnestly, ignoring Mac. "But as soon as he has her, you're dead. Unless you let us assist you. The Senate only wants-”

"-to control your every move!" Mac broke in. "Cassie, I swear to you, John was appalled when he found out what the Circle intends. They've gone power-mad! Even if they get their way and both you and Myra die, they can't be sure their chosen initiate will become Pythia. There are hundreds, possibly thousands, of unknown, untrained clairvoyants in the world. What if it went to one of them? And what if the Black Circle found her first?”

I smiled slightly. "Better the devil you know, huh?" Mac looked somewhat appalled at what he'd let slip, but it was exactly because he hadn't made a rousing speech in my favor that I tended to believe him.

I glanced at Marlowe. "Mac has a point. Pritkin was declared a rogue himself today for protecting me, and was almost killed in the bargain. Seems kind of extreme for someone who is only setting me up.”

"He is known for such tactics," Marlowe said, waving it off. He gazed at me intently, his eyes practically radiating sincerity. "Cassie, we have no desire to manipulate you. Our aim is to offer you an alternative to domination by the mages. That has been the fate of Pythias for generations, but it doesn't have to be yours. We can-”

I held up a hand, both because I didn't want to hear it and to keep Mac, who had grown dangerously red in the face, from going ballistic. "Save it, Marlowe. I know the truth. And I don't intend to be dominated by anyone.”

"You know what you've been told," he replied urgently. "And you will need allies, Cassie. No great leader has ever ruled entirely alone. Elizabeth has gone down in history as a magnificent queen, which she was, but one of her chief talents was choosing able people to advise her. She was great partly because those around her were great. You cannot remain isolated. You will not be able to work that way. In the long term-”

"I'm not real interested in the long term right now, Marlowe." I was just trying to live through the day.

"In time, you will come to understand that you need allies, and the Senate will be there. Unlike the mages, we want to work with you, not control your every decision.”

"Uh-huh. Which is why Mircea put the dúthracht on me?" There were a lot of things I wasn't clear on, but that one was crystal. The geis wasn't used to advise; it was used to control. The look on Marlowe's face said he knew that.

"We will find a way to break it," he promised. "And in the meantime, the Senate offers you its protection." I rolled my eyes and Mac snorted.

"Yeah," he said contemptuously, "just substitute 'prison' for 'protection' and-”

"You might wish to consider," Marlowe said smoothly, "that despite Lord Mircea's lapse of judgment, the Senate has protected you in the past. Whereas the facts make only one conclusion possible: the mages want their candidate on the Pythia's throne and will stop at nothing to see her there-including your death.”

"Another lie!" Mac surged to his feet.

He looked angry enough to go for Marlowe's throat, but he didn't get the chance. I heard a rustling sound and, quicker than I could blink, the roots that had been bugging me all day wrapped themselves securely around Mac. He tried to say something, but I couldn't make it out. Within seconds, only his outraged eyes showed over a coil of ropelike roots, some of them as big as my arm. Struggling seemed useless, although he appeared to be trying anyway.

Marlowe was in much the same predicament, but he sat quietly, making no attempt to resist. I noticed that, despite Marlowe being the stronger of the two, he was bound less tightly than Mac,