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“He’ll be okay, though, right?”

“He survived the process, so yeah. He should be fine.”

I studied Rafe’s face. He had deep hollows under his eyes and a few limp curls falling over his forehead. His bare wrists on top of the sheet looked fragile. He didn’t look fine to me. “We need a nurse,” I decided.

“We know how to take care of our own,” the guard said dismissively. He was one of those who had given me the evil eye in the elevator. It didn’t look like I was growing on him.

“I’m sure you do,” I said, fighting to stay civil despite nerves that had passed raw hours ago. “But considering the extent of his injuries, I would prefer to have a professional sit with him.”

“Explain to her,” the guard told Marco, ignoring me.

“They’re not allowing unauthorized personnel in senators’ quarters,” Marco said. “That includes nurses.”

“Then get an authorized one!” I could feel my pulse start to throb in my temple. “And I guess I should be happy you aren’t referring to me as ‘it,’” I told the guard, “but it’s usually considered polite to look at someone when you’re talking to them.”

“Cassie—” Marco began.

“Rafe almost died, Marco! He needs proper care. Not some guy who’s too busy blindly following orders to—”

I abruptly found myself jerked up to meet a pair of dazzlingly golden eyes glittering with a serpent’s hypnotic stare. The guard was smiling, but there was nothing of warmth in the expression—the eyes too flat, the smile too amused, something a little too hungry about it to be kind. Like a cat that had some small animal cornered and was savoring the moment before snapping its neck.

“You wish me to look at yo

u, human?” he asked silkily. “My pleasure.” And the air in the room went electric.

I’d been through this kind of thing enough by now not to go into total shock and freeze up. Some of the vamps at Tony’s had liked to play scare-the-human when there was nothing better to do, and I’d learned a few coping strategies through the years. But the strongest of Tony’s goons had had only a fraction of this one’s power.

Already, despite the tricks I’d learned for keeping my mind clear, I was starting to fog over. The room went dim as quickly as if someone had thrown a switch. A suffocating darkness shouldered in that crowded my lungs and wouldn’t let me breathe. The only bright spots were two scarlet-tinged eyes with huge black pupils that had nearly devoured the gold. And all I could think was that Nietzsche had been right: sometimes when you look into the abyss, the abyss looks back.

Someone’s hand was on my arm, but I could barely feel it, and I couldn’t hear at all. The master’s power filled my brain, stuttered along my nerves, blocked out everything else. I was starting to forget what I’d been saying and why it had seemed so important. In another few seconds, I’d forget a lot more—where I was, maybe even who I was—until there was nothing left but one simple idea: to obey.

Remember, I told myself savagely, digging my nails as hard as I could into my palm, and the pain dulled slightly the rushing voice in the back of my head. I stared into ancient, alien eyes and was too empty to play games. “Go ahead and show everyone how powerful you are,” I said unsteadily. “But when you’re finished, I want a goddamned nurse in here!”

The eyes held mine for another second, two—and then blinked and looked away. And just like that, the tension broke, the lights came on and the rushing sound was replaced by the soft breath of the air-conditioning and Marco’s cursing. I could still taste bile at the back of my throat, acid and dark, but I knew who I was.

“You don’t want to be doing that,” Marco was telling someone while keeping a tight enough grip on me that I didn’t fall. “This one’s the boss’s woman!”

The guard’s eyes narrowed. “She’s human.” He looked confused and vaguely disgusted. “I haven’t heard anything about—”

“Yeah. The master’s been busy. I’m sure he’ll get around to formal introductions eventually. In the meantime, be a little more careful, huh?” Marco dragged me away from the stunned-looking guard and back toward the main living space.

We reached the hallway and I stopped, needing a second to arrange my face before dealing with the others. Marco sighed and glared at me, arms crossed and brows knitted. And I decided that as long as he was already pissed off, we might as well get something straight.

“You need to stop introducing me like that,” I said seriously. “Talking about me like I’m property—”

“Is the only thing some of them are gonna understand.”

“Tell it to someone else. I grew up at a vampire’s court; I know the protocol. And that’s not it!”

“You grew up at the court of a two-bit hood with delusions of grandeur,” Marco shot back. “You’re gonna have to get used to the fact that Mircea’s retainers are older and a lot more traditional than those you grew up with. And based on what I’ve seen so far, you don’t know shit about protocol.”

“All I did was ask for a nurse!”

“It’s not what you say; it’s how you say it. You don’t talk to an old family master the same way as you would a brand-new vamp or a human.”

“I’ve met plenty of older vamps!” I said, stung. “I’ve met the Senate—”

“And if you weren’t connected to the master and also Pythia . . .” Marco shook his head. “I don’t know.”

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