“Was it hard?” Kaylin asked, and I stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out what he was asking. All I could think of was Lannan and his sick fascination with me.

“Hard? What?”

“Forcing my demon to submit to me?”

I did blush then, and because I knew he’d find out one way or another, I pulled away the cover and showed him the bruise on my stomach. By now it was the size of a cantaloupe.

“Did I do that?” His voice was quiet, and he looked taken aback.

“Yeah, you did. But really, it was your demon. You never would have punched me like that if you’d been in control.”

He pressed his lips together and turned to go. Over his shoulder, he said, “I’m sorry, Cicely. I’ll find a way to make it up to you. I would never deliberately hurt you. I hope you know that.”

But even as he left, I silently padded to the door of my room and locked it. No use taking any more chances.

I went back to sleep and slept dreamlessly until ten in the morning, when a splash of unexpected sunlight filtered through the window to land on my face. Blinking, I sat up, rubbing my eyes, and slipped out from beneath the covers. My breath came in cold puffs and, as I padded to the window to look over the frozen world below, it occurred to me that I’d need to turn up the heat. The house had central heating, and usually the second floor was a lot colder than the first.

I shoved my arms into my bathrobe and gazed down on the wonderland that spread out across the backyard and forest. The snow was beautiful, picture-perfect, and the sun glinted across the white diamonds covering the world and through the icicles hanging off the roof of the house. One icicle had grown all the way to the ground and must have been a good thirty feet long. The sunlight reflected through it, fracturing into prisms that skittered off the frozen cascade of water.

Delighted, I let myself sink into the beauty of the season, trying to put Myst out of my mind for a little while. If she weren’t around, we could enjoy the winter so much more.

If she weren’t around, the winter would be warmer and raining, not a thick layer of snow. Ulean swept up behind me, gently hugging me with her currents.

You were Myst’s daughter, you fool! She’s out to destroy you for betraying her! Chatter’s words came tumbling back as I gazed over the woodland. I had pushed them out of my mind, focused on the job to be done but now . . . now in the clear light of morning, after sleeping and regaining some semblance of clearheadedness, I couldn’t ignore them.

Chatter said that Myst was my mother . . . in the other life.

Ulean let forth a sigh, which rolled over me like a cool wind on a spring morning. Chatter should not have opened his mouth, but he did. Yes, it is true. You are—were—Myst’s daughter. You were on the verge of figuring that out on your own, though, so don’t blame him for telling you.

I’m not sure what to do with that. I shook my head, not sure how to process the information . . . not sure what it meant for the future. I’m not Indigo Court now, am I?

No, you are Cambyra Fae and magic-born. But you bear the trace markers in your soul of that time—which is how Myst recognized you. Do not worry, you don’t have their nature. Even then, you didn’t have their nature—not unless your loved ones were threatened. You were a misfit, miscast in your role as the Queen’s daughter. Ulean enfolded me in her gentle breeze. You are a good person, Cicely. Do not doubt that.

I closed my eyes, trying to summon the memories, but they were hidden still, and the only glimpses I had were those that had already come to me. But knowing who I had been—knowing what I’d been capable of—terrified me. What if my nature from then came back? What if Myst wanted to turn me, to use me against my friends like she was using my aunt?

Too many questions spinning in my head, I pushed away from the window as clouds began to sock in and a light flurry of snow started. It was as if Myst could read my thoughts and had come to douse any hope the sunlight had promised.

“Cicely? Are you awake?” Rhiannon’s voice echoed from outside my door as she tapped on it lightly.

I hurried over to unlock it. “Yeah, I’m awake.”

“Come down to breakfast. Leo’s out and about, and he left you a message.” She looked pale, and I wondered if the strain of all of this was getting to be too much on her. Heather, her mother, had been captured and turned by our enemy. Rhiannon was struggling to control her own powers and heritage. And from what I could tell, she wasn’t as strong as I was.

I cinched the terry-cloth robe tighter and slid into a pair of fuzzy slippers, following her downstairs to the kitchen.

There, next to a big breakfast of sausage and eggs and toast, sat an envelope with a bloodred rose seal, and my name on it. I recognized the slanted writing—it was from Regina, Lannan’s sister.

I stared at it, not wanting to open it. Not wanting to know what the vampires were demanding from me now. I was their pawn, their hope in this war, and after my dream about Lannan and Crawl, I longed to crawl away and hide somewhere. Finally, I opened the flap and pulled out a single sheet of linen paper, along with two checks.

The writing was, again, Regina’s.

Cicely: Your monthly stipend is enclosed. Also: We request your presence this evening at a small soiree at Geoffrey’s, along with Leo Bryne and your cousin Rhiannon. Formal cocktail attire—use the enclosed to buy something appropriate for yourself. Lannan requests you choose something in black with red accessories. A limousine will arrive for you at 7:30 P.M. Attendance is required. Best, Regina.

I swallowed a bite of toast, staring at the two checks. One, for twenty-five hundred dollars, was my monthly pay, for my second month of indentured servitude. The other was for three thousand dollars, and as I stared at it, I realized the writing on it was not Regina’s, nor was it Geoffrey’s—his I recognized on my monthly paycheck.

Lannan . . . it had to be from Lannan. Which meant that he was planning something and I was his target. Angry, I folded the checks and slipped them into my purse. I had to obey—they practically owned me. But that didn’t mean I had to like it.

“Heads up,” I said to Rhia. “You and Leo and I are required to attend a cocktail party at Geoffrey’s tonight.”

She shuddered. “I wonder just what kind of cocktails we’ll be expected to drink. Can vampires eat or drink alcohol?”

“I dunno,” I said, softly. “But contract or no contract, I’m not drinking any Bloody Marys while I’m there.”

Rhiannon broke out laughing. “Me either.” She glanced at the clock. “I keep thinking I have to be at work, but the school’s shut for winter holidays from now till the New Year, so what do you want to do today?”

I thought about the money burning a hole in my purse and shrugged. “Since we were gone longer than we expected, Peyton and I put off opening our headquarters. She has to work for Anadey today. What say you and I go shopping? My treat.” And with that, for the first time in a while, I felt like smiling. Lannan be damned . . . Even though I hated giving him a reason to feel smug, the thought of spending a few hours shopping with my cousin, and maybe taking in a quiet lunch, seemed like heaven.

“Sounds good,” Rhia said. “Finish your breakfast and then get dressed while I do the dishes.” So I cleaned my plate, shimmied into a pair of jeans and a turtleneck, and in no time, we headed out for the mall.

Chapter 9

The New Forest Mall was like most malls in the country: a mixture of the bland but necessary (think Limited Express, Jean Junkies, Sizzle), to the yummy (Pizza Ria, KFC, Brent’s Ice Cream Palace), to the esoteric (Leather & Lace, Sharpen, Versailles Vamp, Magic Forest).

There were quite a few people out and about—though no vamps, of course—but everybody seemed to be paired up, or walking in groups, and a feeling of tension reverberated through the air. Which was no surprise, given the recent spate of brutal deaths.

Rhiannon and I deftly maneuvered our way through the main drag until we came to Slither. I swallowed my reluctance and entered the store, Rhia behind me. The shop was geared for clubbing, and the outfits were pretty much what I figured Lannan wanted me to wear. The money rankled. I had no intention of decking myself out to be his toy, but I had to at least meet him partway or I’d be in violation of my contract, and I knew his punishment would be swift and terrible.

The entry was through a set of beaded curtains, and once we were inside, the light dimmed, with spotlights aimed toward the merchandise. Mannequins wore tightfitting jeans that rode so low on the hips it was hard to imagine how they stayed up, and skirts so high you couldn’t hide your panties if you tried. Sequins and glitter abounded, as well as spikes and rivets and studs.

“I like leather, but this isn’t my style,” I said, staring at the clingy, revealing clothing. “I don’t mind showing some leg or cleavage, but I’m just not comfortable with this crap.”

“What about this?” Rhiannon motioned to a black dress with gold threads running through it. It had a plunging keyhole neckline, which, though it showed off the cleavage, didn’t leave me with the feeling of tits on parade. The back was draped, reaching the top of the butt, and the dress was snug and form-fitting. But at least it wasn’t so short that I couldn’t bend over without worrying—and around Lannan, bending over wasn’t such a good idea.

The material was knit and it even had a cute little butterfly charm that held the keyhole shut. I flipped through the rack until I found one in my size—most were made for girls the size of young boys, and I was most assuredly not that—and carried it into the dressing room.

A glance at the price tag took me aback—fourteen hundred. But he’d given me over twice that amount with which to shop so what the fuck?

Rhiannon followed me. I shimmied out of my jeans and top, then dubiously assessed the dress. Finally, I sucked it up and slid it over my head, thankful that it had no sleeves. It made it easier to slide it over my curves.

“Oh man.” Rhia gave me one of those Wow looks. “Look in the mirror.”

Dreading the sight, I obeyed, and I blinked as I stared at my reflection. Wow was right. The dress hugged my body in a flattering way, showing that I had an hourglass figure as well as muscle. It was lightweight and comfortable, and yet I definitely felt dressed. Some dresses left me feeling naked.

“I can sit okay.” I demonstrated, then knelt down, squatting to pick up a thread off the floor. “I can crouch down without my ass giving a peep show.”

“It looks wonderful on you. All you need is a shawl and some heels to go with it.” Rhiannon shook her head, smiling softly. “I could never wear that. I’d be far too self-conscious. But I have a beaded cocktail dress I found in Mother’s closet and it fits me, and it still looks new.”

“You think you’d be self-conscious? I know that Lannan just wants to watch me in something like this. I know all too well that he wants me because I won’t succumb to his vampire charms, and I won’t knuckle under. If I gave in, he’d probably lose interest.”

And there was the rub: If I did what he wanted and had sex with him, Lannan would probably stop bothering me. But that would compromise my essential nature. I didn’t want him—at least not when he wasn’t using his charm on me, and even then only my body responded.

“I don’t know about that, Cicely. You never know why people get obsessed. Sometimes giving them what they want only makes it worse.” Rhia bit her lip, then said, “I wish I’d never let you agree to the blood tithe. I wish we’d waited—Myst was going to turn Heather no matter what, and I just couldn’t face it. But now, every time Lannan makes a play for you, I feel guilty. You could have avoided that part of the deal if you hadn’t been trying to help me.”

I sat down beside her on the narrow bench and took her hand. “It’s not your fault. Heather’s my aunt; I was going to do everything I could to help her. How could I ignore the fact that she was in danger? I screwed up on the time limit thing with Geoffrey, but that was my own fault. I’ve never dealt with vampires much . . . not till now. But Lannan . . . No, I think even if he hadn’t horned in on the deal, he would have been coming after me.”

She let out a long sigh. “I guess you’re right. Everything is just so fucked—and nothing’s settling long enough to catch my breath. Don’t you feel like you’re in the middle of a whirlwind and it won’t stop spinning?”

Grinning, I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Rhia, my mother saw to it that I’ve been on a carnival ride since I left here at six years old. Come on, help me get out of this. Then we’ll go shoe shopping, look for a shawl, and go out to lunch.”

With a grateful smile, she helped me ease the dress over my head, and I slipped back into jeans and my turtleneck. Truth was, everything did seem like one big blur to me. But I decided to be the strong one. Rhia needed me, and even though I was the younger cousin, I felt so much older, in so many ways.

On the way home, we stopped by Anadey’s Diner for lunch. The snow was coming down hard as we gingerly parked next to a snowbank and hurried for the door. The lights on the Christmas tree glimmered out through the window, reminding us that the winter solstice wasn’t far away. I had my doubts about how much of a celebratory mood we’d be in, and if Myst didn’t stop with the snow, there wouldn’t be longer days to look forward to . . . not for a long time to come.

Peyton waved at us as we pushed through the door and stomped the snow off our feet. She was cooking, as usual, while Anadey waited tables. Anadey had become our touchstone since the Indigo Court took Heather, and we clung to her as we’d cling to a surrogate mother.