*
Cally came to, lying on the bed, her head pounding. She winced. But the sensation gradually faded as she opened her eyes, blinking; even the room’s dim light was too bright.
Antoine sat beside her, worry etched on his face.
“Command me, Master,” she said.
He blinked, then pressed his lips together, giving her a flat look. “I can tell you’re not a thrall.”
“Well, crap. I hoped we’d achieve that, at least.” She struggled to sit upright, still feeling weak from the effects of the spell, and leaned against the headboard. “What happened?”
“You passed out—obviously. I don’t think it was the spell; I think it was my blood.” He paused. “Youwantedto become my thrall?”
“Like I said, it’s not that big a difference anyway—I’d already do whatever you ask of me. But if it had worked, we could’ve used the bond to talk.”
He leaned in and kissed her. “I love you more with every passing day,ma chérie.”
“Je t’aimeyou, as well.”
He paused in the act of drawing back and grimaced. “‘Je t’aime’already includes ‘you’. Your French is adorable, but—”
She grinned.
He narrowed his eyes, feigning a glare. “You were teasing me.”
“Yes, I was,” she admitted, then sobered. “But now I have no way of helping you against Roberto.”
“No matter,” he said lightly. She still heard the hint of disappointment he couldn’t quite mask. “There is always the political route. Belle tells me Tobias is willing to testify that he was compelled. It may be enough to garner the support of the other vampires in Boston.”
“What time is it?” she asked, pushing herself up. She already felt stronger.
“Early. It’s only seven o’clock.”
Seven in the evening, he meant. But for him, that was early. The whole night lay ahead of them.
“So let’s go and see Belle, and hear what Tobias has to say for himself.”
“Are you feeling strong enough?”
“I’m fine.” She waved away his concern.
He rose, gathering her blouse and chinos that were folded neatly on the chair. She hadn’t left them like that. “Unfortunately, you will have to wear yesterday’s clothes.”
“That’s no problem.” She began to dress.
“It’s not ideal. You were cold when we traveled last night. Would you like a coat?”
“One of your retro grunge leather ones?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “It would swamp me.”
“Yes, but it would keep you warm. And we’d match.”
She smiled at him. “That has an appeal.”
She had to roll the sleeves back, and it came down to her boots, but the coat was warm, and that was worth it. It was raining hard, and though Antoine’s shadows enveloped them as they flew across the rooftops, they did nothing to keep her dry. Water trickled down her neck.
“You know they have cars these days?”
“We’ll be there in ten minutes. How long would it take to drive?”
