Who's about to risk his life for me.
"Good. This old demon worries, Tina." Raum patted her shoulder with a rough paw, then turned to Cas. "A word, son." The two males retreated to a back corner of the stage.
Morgana wasted no time cozying up to Bettina, handing her a goblet of wine. "I told Raum you would come away unscathed from your meeting, but that the vampire might not have been so lucky. So, did my little freakling sully the Prince of Shadow? I want details."
"We didn't make love, if that's what you're asking."
"Hmm. You look exhausted."
"I know, I know. And I'm not a great beauty anyway," she said, even as she inwardly smirked. But one vampire can't get enough of me.
"No, I wasn't going to say that. Attitude makes a sorceress beautiful. And it seems you're demonstrating a touch of it-at last."
"Maybe so. But I'm still anxious about tonight. And the pressures of this tournament are weighing me down. Which you must have predicted would happen."
"Because of this tournament, your enemies are dead, your pathetic crush on the wastrel"-she jerked her chin at Cas-"is dwindling, and you're even richer than before."
But Bettina still didn't have her ability, and she was still trapped at this table, about to watch Daciano fight for his life. Can I watch him die? She attacked another nail. "Morgana, can't you do anything to help him?"
"We are bound by those cursed rules. As I told you, I cannot, by thought, action, or deed, influence the outcome of this tournament. Though I can capitalize on the results," she added cryptically.
"What does that mean?"
"I'll say no more about it."
Bettina gritted her teeth. "There's got to be something," she insisted, setting her goblet away so she could think.
Morgana suddenly gasped. "This isn't just infatuation. You're in love with the vampire!"
Bettina couldn't deal with this anxiety and fend off her godmother's inquiry too. "How could I be?" she said. "I hardly know him."
"Because you're a sorceress, who can sense her male."
"My male?" In the folly, Daciano had said Bettina had called for him-because he was hers. "But we don't have mates."
"Perhaps not mystical ones. Yet what if we have a single perfect affinity in all our lives?"
"I don't know who you are or what you've done to Morgana-"
"I'm quite serious. Sorceri wed for life; we choose our mates with free will. But what if something helps us along? Otherwise, how could we bond so completely? Bettina, we Sorceri cleave . . ." Morgana trailed off when one of her Inferi gestured urgently for her attention, then handed her a message.
Bettina studied her godmother's placid glamour, so at odds with her flying braids. "Well, what is it?"
"More reports that La Dorada's risen. But no one can confirm."
"Do you have to leave?"
"No. Tonight, it's imperative that I stay here."
"Why?"
"I'll say no more about it. This time because I know no more."
Whatever that meant. Bettina surveyed the gathered spectators. She wasn't the only one who feared the Child Terrors. The crowd had thinned for this fight, at least in the stands. Hundreds of demons crowded the surrounding rooftops, jostling for the best views. Those in attendance who couldn't trace had crowded to the upper tiers of the stands.
Except for that odd black-haired female. She sat alone in the front row and stared at Bettina with uncanny golden eyes. Then suddenly she waved directly at her, a cheery salute.
Out of the corner of her mouth, Bettina said, "Morgana, who is that black-haired lady?"