She cocked her head and looked up at him, studying him, and Ty knew she’d likely see what most couldn’t. She should still have been a full Empusae. She belonged with that dynasty, had been among the best of them. But her mark showed the taint that she had taken upon herself out of love, ill-advised as love could be. Her sisters had cast her out, as was the custom.

And Anura, as obstinate as she was beautiful, kept her mixed mark—a torch, the flames coiling along her collarbone like elegant scrollwork—proudly bared even now, long after the one who’d made it had gone. And wrapped around the base of the torch was a large, sharp-clawed paw.

He remembered the lion who had given it to her. But the Rakshasa had been hunted to ground long ago, and Rai’s blood had been shed with most of the rest.

Ty shook his head, knowing that if she caught any hint of his pity, Anura would toss him out on his rear end. “No, no, I’ve been… on assignment, I guess you could say. It’s taken me longer than I’d thought to finish.”

Her eyes darkened until they seemed almost black. “This is about the attacks.”

This time he couldn’t hide his surprise.

Anura nodded, her expression grim. “Yeah, word has leaked out, Ty. A little here, a little there, but you don’t have a Gypsy curse rip up that many of your young and keep it completely quiet. She’s done good damage control—I’d expect nothing less—but she needs to rein in her thugs until she’s got some proof about who’s to blame. There are way too many Ptolemy around here lately. And to say they’ve got a bug up their asses about the Dracul would be a serious understatement. You and I both know that relations between those two dynasties are just a tinderbox waiting to go up, and it seems like everyone’s itching to light the match.”

“I didn’t know it had gotten so bad,” Ty said, and was sorry he hadn’t.

“Well, that’s obvious,” Anura replied.

He wondered whether she’d throw him out anyway, but instead she quirked him a half-smile. Old friendship, no matter how long neglected, trumped her worry over his presence. For now.

It made him feel like a heel for having neglected it for so long. Anura had always been generous to the castoffs. It occurred to him all at once that he had never really repaid her kindness.

“So what brings you here, Ty? And don’t feed me a line. You may be a cat, but everyone knows you’re the queen’s man these days.”

It rankled, the casual comment. More because he’d only recently heard the same thing from Lily, the implication that he somehow belonged to Arsinöe. He’d always mentally separated what he did from who he was. But it seemed he’d missed the fact that no one else had. It came to him, and it bothered him more deeply than he might have imagined. But then, how long had it been since he’d even come around here? Ten years? Twenty? And even then, Ty realized, he’d been neck-deep in court business.

“I came for advice, and for information,” he said, hearing the defensiveness in his own voice. Reflection was not something he cared for.

Anura’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Advice? Well. That is flattering. Of course, I’ll tell you what I think, Ty. As for the information,” she continued, guarded, and he could see that things had, indeed, been rough lately, “that depends on the subject. If you came here sniffing around for Jaden, I’ll just tell you what I told the others. I don’t know where he is.”

Jaden. The pieces fell into place, and suddenly he understood. “They came here looking for him. That’s who you were talking about when you came over here. But why would they look in Chicago, of all places? He’s the last person who would go hide in a herd of Dracul.”

Anura frowned, looking puzzled. “Where have you been, Ty? This is one of a dozen Dracul strongholds where Ptolemy have shown up over the last couple of months, making their presence known, starting trouble. We had a damned bloodbath in here a couple of weeks ago that started as a shoving match between a Dracul who was minding his own business and a bunch of Ptolemy who decided to make an example of him. Insulting his bloodline, calling the dynasty illegitimate, and I won’t even go into what they said about the Dracul himself. Stuff that Arsinöe would never have allowed in the past, no matter whether she agreed with it in private. A lot of highbloods have said that and worse about the Dracul, but still, this is their city.” She wrapped her arms protectively around herself, eyes piercing. “My city. And more people than just me are beginning to fear the worst.”

She meant war, of course. One dynasty against another, until one was wiped from the face of the Earth, its leader dead, its remaining members subsumed by the conquering dynasty. Such a thing hadn’t happened in Ty’s lifetime, but he’d heard whispers that it had been far more common in ancient times—that the very first dynasty, in fact, had fallen that way.

He didn’t relish the prospect. But he also understood that sometimes it was kill or be killed.

“If the Dracul are responsible for the mass murders of Ptolemy, Anura, they deserve to vanish,” Ty said. “You don’t know the whole of it.” He hesitated, then decided he owed her a bit of the truth. “Someone’s gone and set a Mulo on them. Whole initiations have been wiped out, the bodies dismembered, the houses burned. And it’s not just the young being killed anymore. Each time, whoever controls this thing ups the ante.”

Anura closed her eyes, and he knew she was thinking of the purge that had claimed her beloved. For that, there had been no justice and never would be.

“Mother above. No wonder.” Anura shook her head. “I appreciate the warning, Ty, though you must believe me when I say you don’t know all of what’s been going on either. If the Dracul are responsible, you may be right that they deserve all this. But without proof, this looks like an ancient and arrogant dynasty has finally found the perfect excuse to take care of the upstarts and grab a little more power while they’re at it. And it seems too obvious, too easy, that they would use the Romany magic all over again to conjure a curse like a Mulo. Vlad Dracul is a lot of things, but he’s no fool.” She shook her head and looked out into the crowded club. “Of course, it’s not like they’ve shared the secrets of how such things work with just anyone. Who else could it be?” She sighed heavily. “I don’t know. All I want to do is run my business and be left alone.”

She looked so miserable that Ty found himself in the unfamiliar position of wanting to offer comfort. The hell of it was, he had no idea how. Awkwardly, he reached out and gave her bare shoulder a tentative pat.

“Well. You’ll be all right, Anura. You always are.”

It didn’t work exactly how he wanted, but at least Anura looked bemused.

“Oh, don’t get all mushy on me, Ty. I wouldn’t know what to do if the most badass Cait Sith I’ve ever known went soft.” She brushed off his hand and glanced back out onto the dance floor.

Suddenly, he remembered Lily. She’d been dancing with that prig for three songs now.

He looked over to see Lily glaring daggers at him from over the big vampire’s shoulder as they moved to the beat, plastered against each other. She could move, he saw with a hot flare of jealousy. Why was it always the prim little things who had the ability to get out on a dance floor and suddenly start oozing sex? Her partner looked like he was in seventh heaven, but a dancer he was not. And Ty recognized the way he was starting to nuzzle at her neck. Her new suitor was hungry, horny, and eager to reach the next stage of his evening with the lovely Lily.

“Do I need to rescue that poor girl?” Anura asked. “I assumed he’d managed to thrall her away from you, but she looks like she’s having buyer’s remorse.”

“That’s no thrall. She went with him because she’s got odd ideas about the acceptability of me shedding blood in public places,” Ty growled. “Though she threatened to shed mine if I didn’t figure out a way to get her out of here peacefully in fairly short order. She knew I needed to talk to you.”

Anura’s laugh was low and throaty. “Tough to thrall and a little violent? I like her already. Though considering how picky you are, I shouldn’t be surprised you’d settle on a good one when you finally decided to choose a sura.” She looked at him curiously, though Ty barely registered her expression. He was too busy staring at the placement of Lily’s partner’s hands.

If they went any lower, he was going to make everyone very unhappy, despite Lily’s best efforts.

“Ah, she’s not yours yet.” It was a statement, not a question. But then, Anura had always been maddeningly perceptive. He could see no reason to deny the truth, especially when he needed information from her.

“She’s not mine at all,” Ty said simply. “She’s a Seer.”

Anura paled so much that even Ty could tell in the candlelight. “Oh, by the goddess, Ty, you brought a Seer here? Why? Why would you risk her? I wasn’t even sure there were any of the blood left!”

“Well, that’s the problem,” Ty said. “I’m not quite sure what her blood is or isn’t. Long story. I’ll explain, but we’ll need to get her out of here first, before I make another mess in your fine establishment.”

She was all fury and fear. “I’m no expert on those humans unfortunate enough to be psychic, Ty. I don’t want this. Get her out of here. Get her to Arsinöe, do what you must, but go away. If she’s not truly a Seer, then at least you will have delivered the queen an appetizing snack.”

It wasn’t like her to be so callous, but Ty could see how agitated he’d made her. Still, the thought of Lily cut down so easily sliced right through him.

“I need your help.”

Anura bared her teeth. “You bring an unbitten mortal into my club and risk inciting a blood frenzy, and for what?”

“Anura, do you know of a mark that looks like a pentagram? A snake curled around the outside of it?”