"Raphael,” she said lightly. “I believe what we have here is a failure to communicate.” She said it mockingly, with an exaggerated Southern accent, and heard a movie buff back in the pack cough to cover a laugh. If Raphael got the joke, he didn't show it. He was in full glower mode.

"Duncan,” he said softly.

His lieutenant hustled the other vampires farther into the park, disappearing around the bulky mission building itself.

Raphael gave her one of his slow, seductive smiles, came closer and prowled around her in a tight circle, bending over to sniff lightly at her hair, the skin of her cheek. “You're bleeding, Cyn,” he murmured.

Cynthia stepped deliberately out of his circle, then spun around and glared at him. “Don't you dare, you bastard,” she hissed. “You think I don't understand what went on behind those black eyes of yours yesterday? You don't want me, fine. But don't think you can fuck me into submission. I may be easy, but I'm not that easy."

His jaw tightened angrily, but his eyes were hot with something other than anger. Cyn watched his fangs slide over his bottom lip and swallowed hard.

"I could throw you down and have you right here, sweet Cyn, and you'd do nothing but scream for more. You are mine. My blood sings in your veins; it calls you to me even now."

Cyn felt tears pushing behind her eyes, but refused to give him the satisfaction. “You're right,” she whispered harshly. “I do want you. But there's a difference between wanting and having, Lord Raphael. That's a lesson I've had to learn. And I won't have anyone,” she snarled. “Who doesn't want me."

The heat bled out of his eyes as he stared at her, replaced by surprise and ... pain? God, she hoped so. She hoped he felt even a fraction of what it cost her to stand so close to him and know he wasn't hers.

She closed her eyes and drew a steadying breath, then asked, “What did your scouts tell you?"

He studied her without answering, then shrugged minutely. “You were right about Pushkin's headquarters. This house—” He gestured up the hill. “—is no doubt his true nest. There are vampire guards at the gate, and...” He paused as if uncertain how to explain it. “The scent is right."

"That's not the main house,” she said wearily. She'd expected to feel triumph at bringing him this piece of information, satisfaction that she'd proven her worth. Instead, she just felt tired. She wanted this case to be over with. She wanted away from Raphael and his infernal games, away from his constant toying with her emotions, her desires. She just wanted away. “And I think I know where they're keeping Alexandra."

Chapter Forty-five

"You've got to spring the trap,” Cyn insisted, when Duncan and the other vamps had come back around. “If you hadn't known the other house was the main building, if I hadn't told you, what would you have done tonight? How would you have gotten through the gate?"

Duncan glanced at Raphael, who was half-seated on the picnic table, his long legs stretched out in front of him and crossed indolently at the ankles. He kept his brooding gaze on Cyn, but gave his lieutenant a slight go-ahead gesture with two fingers.

"Lord Raphael would have ordered the gate guards to admit him."

Cynthia frowned. “Just like that? Raphael strolls up and says ‘let me in’ and they do it? What kind of security is that?"

"It is what it is, Ms. Leighton. My Sire is their vampire lord. His will is literally their command. They would be unable to resist."

"But, if that's true, how could Pushkin ever hope to make this work? He has to know that, right?"

"Of course."

"So he has to eliminate Raphael. How does he do that?"

"He cannot,” Raphael's voice was cool, confident. “He can rise only by defeating me in a test of will, and Pushkin is nowhere near my equal."

"So how does he get rid of you then? You can't tell me he went to all this trouble without a plan to succeed. If he can't defeat you, then he plans to destroy you somehow and take over your territory."

Raphael puffed out a dismissive breath. “Even if he managed to destroy me ... which is most unlikely ... he would not succeed in ruling after me. This is a prized territory. Vampires would come from across the country, from around the world, to wrest power away from him. There are vampires among my own children who could defeat him. He would not last a month. But—” He pushed himself to his feet in a single, graceful movement. “Let us imagine he believes he can hold on somehow. Perhaps by combining his strength with another's ... Albin, for example, who is quite strong but unskilled."

"My lord, we would never—"

"I know that, Duncan, but Cyn has a point. One I had not thought of. Pushkin expected to succeed tonight. Why?” His silvered gaze bored into Cyn.

"He didn't plan to defeat you,” she said bluntly. “He planned to get rid of you. Which takes us back to the trap. You have to spring the trap. And when he comes to see what he's caught, you catch him instead.” The vamps stared at her like she'd grown a second head. Cyn made a disgusted sound. “You guys have all lived in the glow of Raphael's power for too long. When you're weak, you have to be wily to make up for it. So, let's suppose you don't know about the second house. What would you do? Climb over the walls or something?"

Raphael looked down his nose at her as if she'd suggested something completely ridiculous. “Oh, right,” she said, rolling her eyes. “What was I thinking? Okay, so Raphael here walks up to the gate, presumably with his coat billowing around him in a suitably dramatic fashion, and works his mind trick on the gate guard. But wouldn't Pushkin, I don't know, ambush you guys or something? Have his troops waiting in the bushes?"

"Most likely not. This is, after all, a challenge to my authority by Pushkin. If he cannot stop me from entering his nest, then he would submit to my judgment."

"You're kidding, right? After all this, he bows his head and says he's sorry?"

Raphael smiled slightly. “Not quite, but I would not expect any real resistance until I try to enter the house itself."

"You have to stop assuming that Pushkin's still playing by the rules. I don't think he is.” She thought for a moment. “Let's say the guard opens the gate, but he must be sending a signal that you're here, so they don't accidentally kill an ally instead of you."

"From the moment I seize the guard's mind, he can do nothing but what I tell him."

"Can Pushkin, I don't know, link with his guard, see what he sees?"

Raphael nodded. “Possibly. If it's one of his own children, then certainly."

"So that's it. Pushkin sees you arrive, waits until you enter the house ... and then who knows. Something absolutely lethal. Can you keep Pushkin from using his guard that way?"

"Yes."

"So, you make the guard see what he expects to see, which is you at the gate. He opens the gate, let's Pushkin know you're here and walks into the house. Let the guard spring the trap, whatever it is. Let him walk into the house."

Raphael looked at her. “That will very likely result in the guard's death."

Cyn shrugged. “Better him than you."

Raphael's eyes glowed with amusement and something else. “So bloodthirsty, my Cyn. Duncan?"

"It should work, my lord."

"Very well, then...” Raphael turned sharply and pinned her with his gaze. “Is Alexandra in that house?"

Cynthia gave him a disbelieving look. Did he really think she'd leave Alexandra to die? Shit. He was such an asshole sometimes. “No,” she snapped out loud. Raphael studied her carefully, then shifted his gaze to Duncan with a jerk of his head.

"Wait,” Cyn said quickly, before the blond vampire did the speedy disappearing thing. “There's a lot of activity going on over at the other house. I checked it out with my goggles, but some of your guys should take a look. You see better than I do, plus you'll make more sense of what they're doing."

Duncan signaled for a couple of the other vampires to accompany him and the three of them were gone before Cynthia could blink twice. She sighed. That was a handy trick. She stood awkwardly for a moment, painfully aware of Raphael's heavy gaze across the battered picnic table. “Look, my car's parked at the other end, I'm going to walk over there and gear up."

"I'll go with you,” Raphael murmured, his mouth curving into a bare smile.

"No.” They all stared at her. “I mean, you need to stay here in case Duncan comes back. I'll be fine.” Cyn started walking, not daring to look back until she heard footsteps hurrying after her. She whirled, ready to tell Raphael to fuck off ... but it was Elke who strolled up to her, a big grin splitting her wide face.

"The boss sent me along.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “You think maybe he doesn't trust you?” She sniggered.

Cyn met Raphael's eyes over the shorter woman's head. “Fuck off, Elke,” she said clearly, then spun on her heel and stalked around the building to the other parking lot.

The female vamp followed her anyway, but Cyn ignored her, pulling out her key and clicking the locks open before yanking up the rear hatch. There would be no finesse for her tonight. Tonight called for brute force. She opened the large, padded gun case on the floor of the cargo compartment, revealing what she thought of as her vampire arsenal. First, an Uzi submachine gun. She slapped in one 32-round magazine and stashed a backup in each of her thigh pockets. An almost involuntary smile crossed her face as she reached for the next item. She'd had it custom-made after her first encounter with a hostile vamp. It was an ammo belt of sorts, four lightweight, machine-sanded wooden stakes, each tipped with a lethal folded steel stabbing edge. The knife maker who'd designed it for her had taken pride in his product and etched intricate designs all around the band of each blade where it gripped the wood. Each was a work of lethal art.