Tamaritha had grown tired of his irrationality and hushed him after a while. She should have left him on Le-Ath Veronis, she decided, and asked her healer to be sent in for the headache she'd gotten. Satris was being kept away from the throne room and Council meetings, too—he'd developed a terrible cough her physicians couldn't cure. Nowadays, listening to her cousin's coughing and whining annoyed her greatly.

"How much will you pay to establish your temples here under a different name?" Tamaritha asked, coming back to the priest before her.

"Ah, now we begin to see reason," the priest gloated.

* * *

"Here is the agenda for the Conclave," Grant laid the handheld computer before me.

"Lovely," I muttered. I was supposed to go through and review all the petitions, et cetera, so I could cast a vote. The Alliance had five hundred eighty-six members, so we were going to meet in one big meeting hall, I suppose. Everybody would have bodyguards and personal assistants with them, so you could multiply that number by at least six. There were three hundred sixteen items on the agenda.

"We're supposed to get through all this in a week?" I asked in disbelief. The General Alliance Council, comprised of the twenty Charter Members of the Alliance, reviewed petitions to join and things of that nature, but the laws governing all the Alliance had to be debated and voted on by the monarchs, presidents, despots, autocrats or whoever seemed to be in charge at the moment. That meant I had to go.

"At least half of it is electronic vote, with no debate. Those are laws that are already in place and only need approval to remain in place," Grant pointed out.

"Oh. Well, I guess I better read through this, huh?"

"Yeah. Get crackin', Queenie pants," Grant grinned.

"Did you call me Queenie pants?" I lifted an eyebrow at Grant in surprise. Some of his shyness had gone away. Truthfully, I was happy to see it go.

"It's more respectful than itty-bitty pants," he pointed out. Well, somebody had overheard my twins, then.

"Can I go?" Grant changed the subject. "To the Conclave, I mean?"

"I was planning on taking you and Heathe." I didn't add that Davan would have gone, too—if he were still with us. I was allowed to take up to nine people with me. I'd have to take Grant or Heathe—possibly both; I needed them to keep up with appointments and take notes. That presented a problem. We'd informed the Alliance (through Thurlow), that meetings during the day wouldn't be a problem. Let them make of that what they would. Grant and Heathe needed to have that ability, too. Grant was in my study; Heathe had gone to run an errand. Just as well, I could only do one at a time.

"Grant, when did you eat last?" I asked, turning the small computer in my hands.

"This morning. Why?"

"Can you bite, without, well, you know."

"Without what?" Grant wasn't getting this.

"She means without giving the climax." Thurlow folded in. "I can do this for you, lady."

"I'd prefer to do it," I muttered. "I know you did Rigo."

"I did. You need to take him with you," Thurlow informed me. Grant was now staring at both of us, not sure what was going on.

"Grant, if I give you blood, you'll be able to walk in daylight like some of the others," I told him. Grant had a light in his eyes and he was smiling, now.

"Can we do it now?" He was practically bouncing with joy.

"I have to give formal permission, first," I said.

"And you must be gentle," Thurlow added. Grant frowned at him.

"As if I wouldn't," he huffed.

"Come here," I motioned for him to stand beside my desk as I stood up. "Now. My blood is a gift to you, Grant," I said. "You will take no harm from it. There are no bindings or conditions, it is freely given." I pulled my collar aside, so he'd have a clear space to deliver the bite.

"I will be gentle," Grant said, grasping my neck in his hands and pulling me against him. He pressed his lips to my neck, delivering a careful kiss, and then I felt his fangs pierce my skin. I must have drawn in a breath, because Thurlow was there beside me.

"Lara'Kayan, it will be over soon," he was stroking hair away from my temple while Grant drank. He also told Grant when he'd had enough and Grant pulled away, licking stray drops of blood off my neck. He was nearly asleep when he looked into my eyes and smiled. Thurlow folded all of us to Grant's suite of rooms, and got him onto his bed. Grant was asleep already when that happened.

"Now, you," Thurlow said, lifting me in his arms before I could protest and folding me to my bed.

"I have work to do," I complained, but light was forming around his fingers, lulling me to sleep as they gently stroked my face.

"Sleep, my lady," he breathed, and just like that, I was out.

* * *

"She is sleeping," Thurlow allowed Rigo to step inside Lissa's suite. Rigo walked silently over the thick rugs scattered across Lissa's marble floors.

"I only want to touch her," Rigo whispered. Thurlow nodded.

Rigo settled on the side of the bed and lifted one of Lissa's hands, kissing each of her fingers. Before Thurlow could protest, he had her pulled against him, her cheek settled against his chest. "I have dreamed of this," Rigo whispered.

* * *

I was awake four hours later, eating a meal that Karzac set in front of me. He'd angrily crossed arms over his chest and waited for me to eat while I zipped through tons of information on my handheld computer. All sorts of laws were being put forward, including what to do with surplus recyclable materials. That bothered me—one of the proposals was to dump it on an uninhabited planet. Well, maybe not inhabited by humanoids—I was going to check that out myself. Another proposal suggested that each member planet be allowed to decide which religions to approve. That raised my hackles and made my skin itch furiously. Approval of that item would open the door for those Solar Red fuckers—I just knew it.

I wanted the Founder and the Grand Alliance Council to have final approval, and the matter would be debated during the Conclave. If it were left to individual worlds, then Solar Red and Red Hand could waltz right in under an assumed name to murder and plunder, all in the name of their state protected religions. Yeah, I was all for religious freedom, as long as it supported the population instead of killing and sacrificing. I'd seen firsthand what they could do. I didn't want to see any more of it.

"Karzac, please sit, you're making me tired by standing there." I scooted out the barstool next to me and patted the cushion. Karzac came to sit next to me. "Honey," I said, "look at this." I passed the small computer over to him and let him read the proposal. He looked at me as soon as he finished skimming the resolution.

"As long as Solar Red changed their name, they could be approved across the Alliance," he muttered, his green-gold eyes troubled at the thought.

"Anybody could do this," I muttered, "including Red Hand and Black Mist; all they have to do is set themselves up as a religion," I snorted.

"And by the time the Alliance figures out exactly what they are, they may not have enough support among the Alliance worlds to get rid of them again. They may be plotting a takeover," Karzac snorted.

"Oh, good lord," I muttered.

* * *

There was no sleep for me that night, which upset my twins quite a bit. I was busy, reading information on every ruler on every Alliance world. I knew, just by pulling up their records, which ones had been invaded already by Solar Red or Red Hand, under a different name. I figured a lot of them had taken money under the table, too, to allow the torturing assholes in.

Erland doesn't appreciate being wakened out of his beauty sleep—I learned that, but he and I had a long conference inside my study that night. I also had a promise from him and a promise from my grandfather, by the time it was finished. No way was I going to approach my father—he hadn't even bothered to say thanks when I'd restored Wyatt's immortality. Maybe he'd been too insulted when I'd told him he wasn't any different from his mother. It was time, too, to have a talk with Kiarra. I waited until she was awake; I had to Look to get that information.

"Hey, Adam," I folded into the kitchen at Gryphon Hall while Adam was having a cup of tea and reading stock reports on his handheld computer.

"Lissa, sit down and have a cup of tea with me." He was smiling. Adam isn't hard to look at, by any stretch of the imagination. He reminded me of an English actor that had been popular when I'd been snatched away by Griffin. Long dead, now, but Adam bore a slight resemblance.

"I'll get my own tea," I motioned for him to sit down again. I'd interrupted him, not the other way around. He didn't seem to mind, either, that I'd just shown up, without any notice.

"I'm used to it," he smiled and went back to his computer. I made myself a cup of tea and was sipping it when Kiarra and Merrill came in for breakfast.

"Lissa, what brings you here?" Merrill asked, coming to give me a peck on the cheek.

"I just wanted to talk to Kiarra about the Ra'Ak that I killed on Vionn." Kiarra had gone to pull something for breakfast from the fridge, but she turned to look at me when I spoke.

"What about him?" she asked. "Dragon said you had a few words with one of them before you killed him, but he didn't know what was said."

"We had a few words, all right, but he was stalling for time, trying to work his mojo. He wanted a Saa Thalarr under his thumb," I said.

"As if that's possible," Merrill snorted.

"Maybe not for you, Merrill, because of what you were before—a King Vampire that wasn't susceptible to compulsion. Or to me, because of what I am. He thought I was Saa Thalarr. And let me tell you, the compulsion, or whatever it was that he had, might have taken one of the others down. Some of the Spawn Hunters, for sure, and maybe others. He was full Dark Elemaiya, Merrill, before he became Ra'Ak. Have you heard of that, before?"