We meet here because it is safer for us all. Hunter cannot astral travel.

Meaning there was something the bitch couldn’t do? Amazing. That still doesn’t answer the question about my other followers.

They are not among Hunter’s supporters, he said, but neither do they side with us. They do not, in fact, know I support Harry. If they did, they would report it to Hunter, just as they would if they knew of this meeting.

Then I guess I had to be glad they didn’t know about it. It also meant I had to be damn careful about what I said out loud from now on. I returned my gaze to Stanford. None of this changes the fact that I have no intention of helping you.

And if Hunter attacks more of your friends?

I’ll deal with it when it happens. But would I? Could I? As much as I hated Hunter, as much as I’d love to see her dead for what she’d done to Jak, I very much doubted I could ever win a fight against her. And even though I knew Azriel would take the witch out if given half the chance, he could do so only if she attacked me. She wasn’t stupid enough to do that, either. Besides, he’d made no secret of his desire to kill her – not even from her. She no doubt had plans – and protections – put in place for such an eventuality.

Stanford continued to regard me steadily, and there was something in his eyes that made me think he was neither surprised by my answers nor in any way put off by them.

Which made him very much like Hunter in some respects. The question was, just how far would he go to get what he wanted?

When she kills again – and she will kill again, trust me on that – we will be here, ready to discuss our plans further. His tone was still even, still unperturbed. Trepidation skittered down my spine. Its cause wasn’t so much fear of him or his plans, but rather his certainty that Hunter hadn’t finished her bloodshed just yet. But you should know now that we do not expect you to go up against her alone and unprepared.

Well that’s mighty big of you. I frowned. What do you mean by unprepared?

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He half shrugged. There are means of – nullifying, shall we say – the more terrifying aspects of what Hunter has become.

And what, exactly, has she become? You never did explain that.

She is a Maenad, he said, and a follower of the Greek wine god Dionysus, who can on one hand bring joy and divine ecstasy to those who come in contact with him, and on the other brutal, unthinking rage.

While I was absolutely positive Hunter didn’t even know the meaning of joy, the brutal, unthinking rage certainly fit.

Stanford continued. In ancient times, Maenads roamed the mountains and forests during what was known as the orgiastic rites of Dionysus, and often tore apart and devoured any animal or human who came in contact with them. Hunter still performs those rites today, although there are none alive who could confirm it.

Does that mean she became a Maenad before she became a vampire?

Yes. The followers of Dionysus have no gain when it comes to life span.

But when you became a vampire, you certainly did. I studied him for a second, then said, If there’s no witnesses left alive, how do you know she’s still a practicing Maenad?

Because when you are touched by the magic of a god, as the Maenads are, it is not something you can cast aside.

So Hunter was imbued by the spirit of a god and warped because of it. I guess that made about as much sense as anything else right now.

How do you plan to stop her doing to me what she did to that spider spirit?

By trapping her in a place that breaks the connection to her god, thereby restraining what she is able to do in his name.

Which really didn’t tell me a lot. If you’re able to do that, why not do it now and take her out yourselves? Why do you need me involved?

Because, Markel said gravely, such a death goes against the council’s rules of hierarchy and challenges, and they would be honor bound to kill us.

Meaning what? That to kill Hunter you have to formally challenge her?

Yes, Stanford said. Such challenges must be performed in front of chosen witnesses, so that they can confirm the legitimacy of both the fight and the kill. As a fully functioning Maenad with the power of a god behind her, Hunter would wipe the floor with either myself or Markel. It is the reason she has retained her position as long as she has.

Then make sure the fight happens someplace she can’t use her powers.

It is not that simple, Markel commented. The place has to be council sanctioned, and will be guarded against any form of interference. Restricting Hunter’s Maenad nature would be seen as such.

Trust fucking vampires to make the whole stepping-up-the-ladder scenario so damn complicated.

If she’s so damn powerful, why hasn’t she tried a takeover of the high council before now?

Because as much as the majority fear her, she is aware that fear alone is not enough. She may be powerful, but the weight of numbers can overwhelm even the strongest. Stanford paused, and half shrugged. The movement spun small eddies through the astral plane near him. She has never been a fool, no matter what else she might be. But with these keys in her hand, she has hell itself behind her.

I snorted. Not even Hunter could control hell.

I never said she could control it. The threat of unleashing it – of making a hell here on Earth – would be enough. There are few who would risk such a thing.

There were at least two people I knew of who could and would risk it. Unfortunately for everyone, they were the ones who currently had both gate keys.

Look, as much as I sympathize with your desire to kill her, there’s no way in hell I’m about to be the bait in any trap to snare Hunter.

Both men studied me for a moment, then Stanford nodded. As you wish. However, if you change your mind – and I fear that you will be forced to – then you know where to find me. Or Markel.

I wouldn’t bet the blood bank on it, I replied grimly.

I only ever bet when I’m sure of a win. Stanford didn’t seem too perturbed by my refusal to fall in line with his plans, and that made me more than a little nervous. I doubted he was the type to give up easily. He added, In this case, I certainly would bet the bank – blood or otherwise.

He bowed – an old-fashioned but elegant movement – then disappeared. Swirls of gray were the only indication that anyone had ever stood there. I glanced at Markel. You should have known this would be a waste of time. You’ve been following me around long enough to get some sense of how I’d respond.

He shrugged. Reminding you of your options – and the fact we can and would do our best to make it a more even fight– can never be considered a waste of time.

Give me an army at my back and I might consider it. But one-on-one? No fucking way.

You would hardly be alone given the reaper rarely leaves your side.

And you think Hunter wouldn’t be canny enough to have a means to nullify his presence? Magic can restrain him, Markel, and I’m betting Hunter has been around long enough to know such a spell.

More than likely. He hesitated. However, if you have no intention of ever going up against her, then do nothing more to antagonize her. She walks a knife edge of sanity at the moment.

If you know this, the fucking council must. Why won’t they do something about her? Surely if they ganged up on the bitch they could defeat her.

As Harry said, we are bound by rules and conventions. It is not that simple.

I snorted. And do you think Hunter plays by the rules? Or even cares about them?

Perhaps not, but if we play her game, then we are no better than her. And she is not without her supporters. He hesitated. Be wary of what you say. We hear every word here on the plane. You would not want her other followers to realize anything untoward has happened.

I know. I studied him grimly for a moment. What happens if they do suspect anything?

Then I will have to take care of them.

Kill them, you mean.

He shrugged. There is little other choice. Besides, it is what I do.

But won’t it alert Hunter that something has happened?

If an astral traveler is killed on the plane, then they die here on Earth. It would not be the first time such a death happened, and I daresay it will not be the last. It is a risk we all take when traveling.

That didn’t actually answer the question.

Yes, she will suspect and more than likely question me. But she has no reason to question the loyalty of the Cazadors, and she will not suspect my involvement.

No, she’d suspect me.

Perhaps, but we work twelve-hour rotating shifts. If the kill is timed right, it would be at least ten hours before the body was discovered. The plane is an ever-shifting environment. There would be no evidence left to find.

There’d be a ghost. Ghosts can be questioned.

It would be a fragmented ghost, and insane. They would get no information from it.

I frowned. What the hell is a fragmented ghost?

It happens when the part of the soul that walks the field is killed. The traveler not only dies in flesh as well as spirit, but it sends the remainder of their soul mad. It is the source of the ghosts who wail. They can do little else. He bowed slightly.Until next we meet.

And with that, he disappeared. I shook my head and imagined myself back in my body. I whooshed back quickly – a little too quickly, as it turned out. My eyes sprung open as I gasped in shock.

“Whoa,” I said, swallowing heavily as my stomach leapt up into my throat. “Forgot all about the side effects of doing that.”

The bed dipped as Azriel sat beside me and held out a can of Coke. “Would this help?”

“If I was a normal person, no it wouldn’t.” I pushed upright, and ignored my rebellious stomach as I accepted the Coke. “I, however, happen to have this stuff running through my veins.”

He smiled. “And here I was thinking it was junk food that fueled you.”

“Speaking of which, where’s the pizza? If I don’t eat it, you’ll nag me.”

He nodded toward the bedside table, then added, “What did Markel want?”

“He was basically warning me to get a move on with the keys.” I leaned sideways and snagged a thick slice of pizza, then, just in case one of my astral watchers was near, silently added, And playing middleman for Stanford. It doesn’t take a genius to guess what he wanted.




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