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“Jules . . . I’m sorry,” I said.
Suddenly, I didn’t feel like laughing anymore.
“It was a long time ago,” he told me. “But I always wondered if maybe the start I had in life was what screwed it up for me. If maybe I’d had a different family, one who gave a damn . . . But you really can’t go back, can you? You can make me younger, but you can’t erase what happened—”
“I can,” Mircea said. “If that is what you want—”
“No, you can erase the memory of it. But then who would I be? From a screw-up to . . . a blank?”
Mircea made a frustrated sound, which was another measure of how not-himself he was today. “It is difficult to help you when you don’t seem to know what you want—”
“Yes!” Jules nodded. “Yes, exactly. Before I became a master, back when I was a baby vamp, I was told who I was supposed to be. I was given the right clothes to wear, the words to say, the jobs to do. And after, I was still expected to be that person, just . . . better at it somehow. It was like being in a play—put on the costume, say the words, try to stay in character . . . and I did. I did that. But I’ve been a character for so long now, I don’t know who I am when I’m out of it.” He looked at me and spread those expressive hands. “Cassie, you didn’t mean to, but you stripped off the costume, took it clean away. And now you want to know what I want? How the hell should I know?”
I looked at him, and I thought maybe I did finally get it. I got something else, too. “We may not know what you want, but we know what you don’t want.” I looked at Mircea. “He doesn’t want to make this choice today.”
“And I did not wish to lose eleven masters tonight!”
“What?”
“The raid. The one you saw us preparing for?”
I nodded.
“Twelve operatives went out; only one returned. And they had power, every single one. And skill. And centuries of experience you don’t have. And they died nonetheless.”
“But . . . what can kill twelve masters?” I asked in disbelief. Because the answer should have been nothing. Sending a senior master—a first – or second-level vampire—after a problem was to suddenly have no more problem. It was like sending a whole battalion. Losing eleven . . .
Nobody lost eleven.
“We don’t know,” he told me, running a hand through his hair. “As of right now, we have no idea. But it was a carefully coordinated attack that required intimate knowledge of us. There are very few people with that sort of information, very few who could have stage-managed a series of ambushes dangerous enough to kill first-level masters.”
“You think Tony and his group were behind it.”
“That is the current assumption. They certainly have the most cause. But whether it turns out to be accurate or not, until we root them out, they will keep coming. They’ve proven that much, at least. And Antonio—”
“Is a threat,” I agreed. “And you know I want him more than anyone. But I’m a little more worried about Ares right now—”
“Ares may never return if his supporters are taken out!”
“But Rhea didn’t see Tony returning to kill us all, did she?” I asked. “She saw Ares—”
“And you believe her? A girl you barely know?”
“—and so did my mother, and so did Jonas’ prophecies—”
“Prophecies, visions—give me tangible enemies to fight. I can’t fight air!”
And that was it, wasn’t it? Mircea really didn’t like feeling helpless, didn’t like being on the sidelines, didn’t like leaving his fate in someone else’s hands. But a god at full strength was too much, just too much for any of us, and he knew he couldn’t fight him.
So he was trying to take on those he could.
I understood that. But I also understood something else. That if I gave in to him on this, I’d be giving in on everything. Because how do you step back after giving someone an army? How do you turn him down when he knows you’ll cave, even on the big things, even on the huge things, because you already did?
If I gave Mircea what he wanted, it might help now, but it would hurt later. And it would hurt a lot. Not just because of all the extra master vampires suddenly running around, but because I would have just confirmed that I was nothing more than a weapon for him to fire, whenever he chose, at whatever he chose, and I couldn’t be that. I couldn’t do that.
Not and have any legitimacy left.
“I understand—” I began.
