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Friar looked at him and raised one lazy eyebrow. “You do not want the bodies placed in stasis?”

“I must first assure myself that she is dead.”

“Ah. You aren’t confident your people can tell the dead from the living.”

The insult rolled off the thick armor of Benessarai’s arrogance. He answered with the sublime indifference of one who knows that little can be expected of the lesser beings around him. “You would not, of course, understand. She was an abomination, but half that abomination was Rekklat. With Rekklat, one always makes sure.” He glided forward.

Robert Friar approached Lily. Behind him drifted a white, indistinct cloud.

Drummond was back. It was ridiculous to be so relieved.

Friar stopped in front of her. “Much has changed since we last spoke.”

“Yeah, the last time I saw you, you were too busy escaping to stop and chat.”

“Strange. I seem to recall you doing the running. You and all your wolfish friends.” His stroked her cheek with one finger and lowered his voice. “You won’t be running this time.”

Lily’s mouth went dry. He sounded relaxed. He looked calm and at ease, but his eyes burned with feverish intensity. And with that single casual touch of his finger, he’d let her know he was brimming with power. Overflowing with it, power like nothing she’d ever touched before.

She didn’t want to fear this man, but she did. “Benessarai did something to make Dinalaran kill Alycithin. A compulsion spell, maybe.”

“Very good,” he said, as if she were his pupil and eager for his approval. “He is a wonderfully talented seurthurin. That is one who practices the arts of the mind. Benessarai would say that today’s events were Alycithin’s own fault. She failed to make sure her people took adequate precautions.”

“Blame the victim? How very human of him.”

“You may not want to say so where Benessarai can hear. I’m afraid he’s quite shortsighted about our species.”

The copper-haired elf had knelt beside Alycithin’s body and was drawing shapes in the air over her open, staring eyes. He uttered some syllables, paused, then nodded with satisfaction, stood, and spoke to his people in his own language.

“Really most completely dead,” Friar murmured.

Lily hadn’t needed the confirmation. The mate bond was working freely again. She knew where Rule was—and he was close. Very close, but not yet here. They needed to stay out in the open a little longer. “Where’s Adam King?”

“Inside.” Friar smiled. “I’ll introduce you.” He raised his voice slightly. “If you’re quite satisfied, I suggest we move inside. I’m not happy being so exposed.”

Benessarai spoke without looking at Friar. “Patience. Who will attack when none can see us? We will have the remains in stasis quickly, but then the blood must be collected.” He waved at his people, who moved close to the bodies once more.

“I am unable to help with that,” Friar said, “so I will await you inside where there is more tidying up to do.”

“Oh, as you will, then.”

“Hugo, bring her along.”

The mass of fat and muscle gripping her arms shoved her—and she let the momentum take her to her knees.

“Really, Lily, you can do better. If you don’t, Hugo will carry you.”

The elves had stopped waving their arms. Two of them bent and tenderly picked up the bodies and started this way. Benessarai spoke to the other two. Lily raised her voice. “Benessarai, he intends to kill your hostage!”

The elf glanced her way. “Hostages are not killed.” He waved at the two remaining elves as the two carrying the bodies passed Lily.

She tried again. “He’s going to kill me, too, and feed me to his goddess.”

“That is true.” Benessarai cocked his head, curiosity brightening his eyes. “It is rather a waste. I have never encountered a sensitive. Bring her to me.”

Friar spoke softly. “She is my prize, not yours.”

“Of course. My apologies, Robert. That was thoughtless of me.” He began to saunter toward them.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lily glimpsed movement. A flash of orange. She ducked her head and shook it as if confused…which let her look that way without Friar noticing.

A tiger peered around the far corner of the warehouse. Just the head showed—that enormous, orange and black head with green eyes slitted against the sunshine. The tiger nodded at her once and pulled back out of sight.

Grandmother? Grandmother was here?

Thank God she’d ducked her head and her hair was hanging down, hiding her face. She had a moment to get her expression smoothed out, a moment to try to figure out what that nod meant. Distract them? Be patient? The latter, maybe, she decided. No one was rushing to the rescue right away, so maybe they had more preparations to finish.

Benessarai stopped in front of her. “With your permission, Robert, I would like to try something before you make your offering. It would be too late afterward.” He chuckled at his own wit. “Your man will need to let go of her and step back, or he will be affected. He wouldn’t like that.”

“Of course not.” Friar didn’t put much effort into the lie. He sounded downright brusque. “If it won’t take long.”

“Not long at all.”

“Hugo, release her but keep her covered.”

The big man grunted and dropped his hold on Lily. The smell of pizza retreated with him. Her shoulders ached.

“Hugo won’t shoot to kill if you try to escape,” Friar told her. “He’ll aim for your stomach. A gut full of buckshot would kill you eventually, but not so quickly I would fail in my duty to the Great One.”

“Do step away just a bit, Robert. There, yes.” Benessarai wiggled the fingers of one hand at Lily.

Magic prickled over her face. It felt like a breeze with feathers in it. “Air magic, only slightly shaped. Mind-magic is connected to Air, isn’t it?”

He frowned slightly and wiggled his fingers again.

The gust of magic was stronger this time, more prickly. “Why is it okay for Friar to kill me? I’m a hostage.”

“No, you aren’t.” Benessarai studied her the way a scientist might study a lab rat that was not reacting in the expected way to a stimulus. He started in with more hand waving, this time accompanied by a short chant.

Friar smiled slowly. “Allow me to explain. An abomination can’t make a true covenant. If Alycithin was unable to make a true covenant, she has no family. If she has no family, she is not party to the code. If she is not party to the code, then alas, you are no hostage. Only a prize.”

“I see. Yet I’m a valuable prize, aren’t I? I’m surprised Benessarai is willing to let you kill me without learning where sensitives come from.”

This time the elf answered. “I am curious. Do you claim to know?”

“Oh, yes, I know. You have humans in your realm, right?”

“Your kind are everywhere.” He said that the way a New York apartment dweller might speak of roaches: try as you may, you can’t get rid of them. “Tell me,” he said.

“Make me your hostage so I don’t get fed to Her Evil Nastiness and—”

Friar slapped her. Hard. Way harder than he should have been able to. She fell to the ground, dazed, with black fluttering at the edges of her vision.

“You do not—”

He kicked her in the ribs. She gasped and curled around the sudden pain.

“Speak of—” His leg drew back for another kick.

A tiger roared.

Hugo screamed.

Five hundred pounds of Siberian tiger raced straight at them.

Friar’s eyes widened. He reached for her. Lily tried to scramble out of the way, but she was dizzy, slowed by the blows. He got hold of her arm and started dragging her, and he should not have been able to do that. Not as fast as he was moving. She caught a glimpse of Benessarai fleeing through the open door of the warehouse, heard the two elves call out something, but she was fighting, kicking, squirming, trying her damnedest to stay out of the warehouse.