"His arrogance, Bettina. His overconfidence. I wanted to use his cold-bloodedness against him. I had no idea he'd turn into an animal."

Chapter 48

Just as Morgana had once predicted, Daciano had turned into an unthinking, savage brute.

Salem hinted around that he was on the trail of the real poison culprit: "Update at eleven." But the sylph could look all he wanted to-he would never reach Dacia. No one could.

Cas said, "You know I can't stay in Abaddon any longer."

She admitted, "I thought this is what you wanted to talk about." From the moment he'd arrived tonight, she'd sensed he was soon to leave. "But I need you here, Cas. You're one of the few people I can completely trust." He was part of the ragtag family she'd assembled, along with Raum, Morgana, and even Salem.

"You don't need me. You're doing an amazing job."

"What if we're to go to war?"

Cas gazed up at the sky. "Do you think the Vrekeners will ever attack?"

She didn't know. Surely, they would have by now. "In any event, I need a general by my side." Raum had declined the position, telling her, "I'll get you settled in, m'girl, but then I want to retire. Maybe learn golf!"

"A general?" Cas scoffed. "They won't follow me, Bettina. But they'll follow you."

Though she had been accepted as queen, in the beginning the reception had been chilly. Basically, her entire populace believed she'd been spurned by two suitors.

Morgana hadn't been here to advise-the sorceress had disappeared, leaving only a message: "La Dorada risen. Happy Accession." So Bettina had followed Morgana's example, holding floor shows every night.

Raum had been instrumental in helping her organize the drunken festivities. Though he hadn't spoken to her about her situation-other than to offer a few gruff but well-meaning platitudes-he'd devoted himself to rehabilitating her image.

He'd taken care of all the heavy lifting with the extravaganzas, leaving her to provide the final touches and Sorceri flair. Gold plus color plus spectacle equaled dazzled demons.

Now when she passed people in the street, they smiled and called her "Good Queen Bett."

Each day, Bettina grew more comfortable in her role as regent, exerting power more confidently. The days of Bettina the Pushover had disappeared, replaced by Queen Bettina, a bold(ish) sorceress. Like Morgana and Patroness, Bettina got what she wanted.

The situation hadn't improved for Cas, though.

"Tina, believe me, I'd rather not go. I hate leaving you after he . . . after Daciano . . . after you lost the male you thought to marry."

The vampire had humiliated her and her oldest friend, but she still missed him to an aching degree. She'd been up and down-cursing Daciano, then yearning for him.

Tonight, I'll make you my wife, he'd said. Bettina eternitate, he'd assured her.

How could the vampire just leave her behind?

Directly before he'd traced away, he'd said: "You've gotten what you've always wanted, sorceress." Had he thought she still wanted Caspion over him? After she'd given the vampire her virginity? After the night they'd shared?

Perhaps the poison had muddled his thoughts?

But then, even before the finals, Daciano had seemed unwell-besieged by that grinding tension. . . .

So many things in the kingdom reminded her of him. She thought of Daciano every time she practiced with her power, or worked in her shop, or simply walked by herself around town.

Merely lying in her bed made her crave him to a staggering degree. She tossed and turned, waiting for him to appear.

It had been their bed-at least for one amazing night.

She had so many feelings bottled up inside her, with no outlet. What she wouldn't give for a chance to talk to him!

Bettina knew exactly what she'd say: Trehan Daciano, I screwed up. I thought you were going to die, and I acted to save you. Clearly, I was too hasty. Sometimes I do foolish things, especially if my entire life is off kilter, and I'm struggling with emotions I've never felt before.

But you . . . your behavior . . . how could you turn into a nightmare?

Sadly she wasn't expecting a sit-down with him anytime soon. He could be anywhere in the worlds.

Now Cas pointed out, "You'll have Salem to keep you company when I leave."

Though Bettina couldn't turn Salem back into a regular phantom, she'd revoked his servitude to her, melted down his copper bell, and made him a partner. He was a full-fledged businessman, even now out negotiating her next commission. "Where will you go, Cas?"

"The Plane of Lost Years."

That plane was a hell dimension of continual wars where time moved even more slowly than in Abaddon-because days stretched on endlessly in hell. "You wouldn't go there. You can't."

Cas could experience years and years there, then return a day later.

"I need to go work this off. And get stronger." Many Abaddonae went there to make kills and harvest power.

"I understand, but does it have to be there?"

His hand tightened on his mug. "I will do anything-anything-so that I may never know defeat like that again."

"Please, just give this some time," she said, but she knew he couldn't continue on as he'd been doing.

"The people don't accept me. I don't accept me." He wasn't exaggerating; when Cas passed Abaddonae, they . . . spat in his path.

"Once we find the real poisoner, they'll come around."

"I'm sorry, Tina, I have to go."

There was no changing his mind. At that realization, her eyes began to water. "When will you return?"

"Centuries, if that's what it takes. So maybe a year in this time." He forced a smile. "Wish me luck, friend."

Sniffling, she whispered, "Good luck, Cas."

He pressed a warm kiss to her forehead for long moments, then disappeared.

Caspion was venturing into hell, to risk his life repeatedly, all because of Daciano-the reserved, patient vampire who had turned madman.

Though she'd been expecting Cas to leave, it still hurt. And now she was all alone.

Alone on the balcony, up so high-in the dark? With an "imperfect" barrier spell?

She shrugged and took another drink. Since Daciano had left, she'd mastered her anxiety even more. She challenged herself constantly, and its hold on her continued to wane. Plus, she'd begun to believe in her ability to defeat it.

Greatness did reside in her, after all. But there was one other factor.

She was too heartbroken to feel much of anything besides sadness-least of all fear.

Trehan Daciano had broken her heart when he'd left her behind, to live a life without her in it.

After that, she just didn't particularly care what happened to her.

Yes, these days Queen Bettina got what she wanted. Except for what she wanted most.

My vampire.

Though Trehan sat in his favorite chair with a book in hand, he couldn't read it.

So he stared into the flames.

Just as before, he took pleasure in nothing. A shade with a stupefying existence. Over the last several weeks, his pain had proved so unflagging and pervasive that it had grown into a raw sort of numbness. . . .

For his service in helping to save Lothaire's life, Trehan had been allowed back into Dacia. Perhaps he oughtn't to have bothered. Away from Bettina, his mind had only gotten worse-concentration nil, reason and logic absent.

But his body had eventually recovered, and it hungered for hers without cease.

The whispers among the Daci resumed. Everyone knew he'd left their realm, found his otherlander Bride-only to be betrayed in some way by her-then returned.

Those whispers held that he was even worse of a shade than before. And they were right. About all of it.

"Take another female," Viktor had advised, which just confirmed that he had not been blooded. Or else he'd know how ridiculous that sounded.

Bettina had awakened Trehan to experiences he never would have known. She'd given him life.

His body was hers, his seed was hers. He could never give either to another female.

They'd already been claimed. He had already been claimed. Then discarded.

Which left him alone, with a book in his lap, staring at the flames. . . .

"Good gloaming, Uncle!" Kosmina said as she traced into his sitting room. "I bring a message from Lothaire."

The newly crowned-and completely unhinged-king of Dacia.

Lothaire had turned out to be a ruthless dictator, prone to rages, with alternating bouts of lunacy and lucidity-more of the latter now that he'd reconciled with his Bride. Indeed she had nearly decapitated Lothaire, by accident.

It'd taken Lothaire weeks to realize that. Before that epiphany, when he'd been separated from his Bride, he'd lashed out at his cousins, Trehan included.

At one point, Lothaire had clawed his own heart out of his chest and sent it to Elizabeth in a box.

Trehan laid his book aside and rose. "What does he want now?"

Of all the cousins, Trehan understood Lothaire best-because I'm dancing at the edge of sanity myself. Kosmina, however, liked Lothaire best. She thought he was exciting and misunderstood and believed his love affair with Elizabeth was the stuff of legend. "He's summoned you to court."

"Has he, then?" Like some common subject. It rankled. Twice over, Trehan could have been a king. Now he regretted not seizing this throne.

Kosmina nodded brightly. "I told him I'd bring you straight away."

Straight away? Suddenly Trehan found himself in the mood for a leisurely stroll.

"You're walking?" she asked. "May I go with you?"

"I don't think I'm good company, but I don't object."

Once they'd exited the library and started along a misty cobblestone street, Kosmina said, "Wait till you see the castle, Uncle. Queen Elizabeth has been busy!" His niece was delighted by all the changes in their realm. As she'd told Trehan, "We don't have to hate each other anymore! I can visit you without worrying if my brother will try to kill you for it."

For eons, the great black castle had lain empty with echoing halls. No longer. Ever since Lothaire and Elizabeth had reconciled and begun their new rule, it had been in a continual state of upheaval.

As soon as Trehan and Kosmina made their way through the castle's towering gold doors, they were met with chaos.

Servants flitted all around them, tracing furniture and decorations. Some mongrel-looking canine chased them, baying with impatience. A vividly decorated Christmas tree stood in each alcove.

"Elizabeth said we'll have 'Christmas' year-round and decorate with only the choicest adornments!" Kosmina explained. "I don't know what Cracker Barrel is, but its wares are of great importance to our queen."

As Trehan took in the mayhem surrounding him, he wondered how Bettina would view the scene. What would she see? What could her beautiful eyes alone descry?

There was no higher sensibility inside Trehan-he'd needed her for that.

"You grieve for her," Kosmina said softly.

He stiffened. "I've told you I don't want to discuss this with you."

She and Elizabeth had been haranguing him to return for his Bride.

He hadn't been able tell them that Bettina loved another, had found it impossible to utter the words: My Bride chose a demon over me. My Bride nearly broke me with her duplicity. My mind is not well, and I don't know how to fix it.

In a wry tone, Kosmina said, "I'd tell you I won't bring it up again, Uncle, but it would be a lie."

"The situation's complicated. One day I'll explain it." When you're three hundred years old. Changing the subject, he said, "Any idea what Lothaire wants?"

"None. But he's lucid today," she said happily.

The last time Lothaire had appeared even remotely so, Trehan had attempted to give the king an overview of the family and the houses, outlining the last three millennia of their secret history.

"Five houses?" Lothaire had sneered, cutting Trehan off. "You all live under one roof now. Mine. Because I'm the king of the castle." Then his red eyes had grown vacant, and he'd begun muttering about "Lizvetta's lingerie."

Trehan had been . . . underwhelmed by the Enemy of Old's attention span.

Now Trehan said to Kosmina, "Even when he's lucid, Lothaire doesn't exactly personify the traits of his house." He was descended from the king's line, the most ancient one, known for its wisdom.

Wisdom? Lothaire couldn't be bothered even to hear about his vaunted house.

Chapter 49

"Every day he gets better, Uncle! And guess what else. Lothaire and Elizabeth want me to journey . . . outside."

"Pardon?"

"He wants me to undertake a mission for the kingdom."

"What kind of mission?"

"To infiltrate a covey of nymphs in a place called Louisiana!" she said in a breathless voice. "I don't know exactly why. He just said the task would be 'eye-opening' for someone like me."

Infiltrate a covey? Over my dead body. Kosmina would perish of shock before the plague ever touched her.

In addition to all his faults, their new king had a twisted sense of humor. "We'll discuss this later." Again, when you're three hundred. His voice must have been harsh because she paled.

Anger always at the ready, Trehan? Striving for an even tone, he said, "There's no need to rush into these things, Kosmina. One change at a time, then?"

"Oh. Of course, Uncle." Wisely, she didn't press the subject.

At the great entrance to the court, she gave him an encouraging nod, then traced away.

When Trehan entered the enormous space, Lothaire was sitting in his throne with Elizabeth upon his lap-she rarely sat in her own, a feminine version of Lothaire's.

The new king had scrapped the ancient and revered thrones of their forebears and designed new ones. Each was decorated with gold-dipped skulls, only Elizabeth's skulls were "daintier."

The two regents were sickeningly in love. As usual, they were deep in conversation, taking little notice of the world around them; Lothaire stroked her bottom lip with his thumb, while she brushed his light hair from his forehead.

Can't touch each other enough. Trehan had been that way with Bettina.