“I made no attempt to influence you,” Isis insisted.

“You are what you are.”

“That is truly what you think of me?”

“We’re strangers,” he said. “What should I think?”

To Daniel’s astonishment, she worked at the fastenings of her robes, and they fell like water to her feet. Beneath them she was naked. And breathtaking. Her body was sweetly curved, full-breasted and full-hipped, her legs shapely and strong, her waist supple.

“You cannot abide losing control, Daniel,” she said. “Now I give you a choice. You may prove to yourself that I cannot influence you…because I want you, and I will do nothing to make you want me.”

SUSAN KRINARD has been writing paranormal romance for nearly twenty years. With Daysider, she began a series of vampire romances, the Nightsiders series, for Mills & Boon Nocturne. Sue lives in Albuquerque, New Mexico, with her husband, Serge; her dogs, Freya, Nahla and Cagney; and her cats, Agatha and Rocky. She loves her garden, nature, painting and chocolate…not necessarily in that order.

Dark Journey
Susan Krinard

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Contents

Cover

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Foreword

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Extract

Copyright

Foreword

For thirty-five years after the end of the war between Opiri1 and humans, the greatest hope for lasting peace lay in the self-contained mixed colonies established along the western seaboard of the former United States of America. These colonies—unlike the slave-holding Opir Citadels, which kept captive humans as blood donors, and the human Enclaves, which rejected all Opiri as monsters—demanded full equality between Opiri and human members, and encouraged the willing donation of blood from human colonists.

For many years, such relatively small colonies provided the only working examples of truly peaceful coexistence between humans and Opiri. But rumors of a new kind of mixed colony began to spread: tales of a former Opir Citadel turned free city, populated by hundreds of citizens both human and Opiri.

Never before had the experiment of equality been attempted on such a grand scale. In the original colonies, every member knew every other member; humans were well acquainted with the Opiri who would live on their donated blood. In a city, such personal acquaintance would be far less likely, and the government would have to be correspondingly complex to ensure a steady supply of blood from cooperative humans, to distribute it fairly, to properly apportion work among the citizens, and to prevent less well-adapted Opiri from reverting to the old ways of asserting dominance and obtaining blood by force.

Doubting that such a system could be maintained for any length of time, the Western colonies sent ambassadors to the new city of Tanis. If such a city-state could survive, the hope for a permanent end to war might be realized. If it failed, many on both sides of the divide would regard Tanis as proof that coexistence on anything but the smallest scale might never be achieved.

—From The Armistice Years: Conflict and Convergence

1 Colloquially known as “vampires” or Nightsiders.

Chapter 1

It was time.

Daniel moved through the woods to the edge of the field, making one last check to be certain that his clothes were appropriately dusty. Cattle grazed in the waning light, and in the distance Daniel could make out the small white forms of sheep. Farther on stood more fields, green with crops, and beyond that...

Tanis. The former Citadel of Tartaros, rising beside the river, its odd but impressive silhouette revealing its nature as a place where—if the stories were true—humans and Nightsiders, or Opiri as they called themselves, lived side by side in peace and equality.

They lived the same way in Avalon, the colony to which Daniel had escaped when he’d fled the Nightsider citadel Erebus, and in Delos, the compound he had governed in the far north of Oregon, where Opiri, humans and half-bloods worked together to fend off common enemies.

He’d given up his command of Delos and returned to the place where he had first been free. But his reunion with old friends and comrades had been incomplete.

His father had disappeared. Ares, former Bloodmaster of Erebus, had gone east in search of the mysterious half-domed Citadel at the foot of the mountains. He’d wanted to find out if it was truly possible for an entire city to maintain the equality that only smaller settlements and colonies had managed since the end of the War.

Daniel had serious doubts that such a thing was possible. Nevertheless, since Ares had not returned, he had volunteered to complete his mission. And if Ares’s disappearance had something to do with his going to Tanis, Daniel would find that out, too. No matter what role he had to play.

For now, that role meant blending in among the human field workers as they ended their workday. The path between the fields widened to a dusty dirt road, bounded on both sides by pastures. By the time Daniel reached the crops, the last light of day was reflecting off the several towers of the former Citadel and glinting on the surface of the river behind it. Workers—humans—gathered along the road to return to the city, while other figures, white-haired Nightsiders, arrived to take their places.

It was just dark enough for Daniel to slip in among the retiring workers, just another man in a plain shirt and pants and work boots. He didn’t let on that he could see everything as if it were full daylight; as far as the people of Tanis would know, he was fully human.

He lingered at the back of the group as the workers started toward the city gates, talking in low voices. One of the women shot a curious glance Daniel’s way, but said nothing.

The human workers stopped as a flood of artificial light fell over them from the parapet walk above the gate made of immense logs bound together with steel, which would require the efforts of more than a few inhumanly strong Nightsiders to open. Opiri looked down on them from the walk, and they appeared to be armed.

Clearly the people of this city feared attack. But from whom?

Daniel braced himself for some kind of screening or check on the workers, but no one seemed to pay any particular notice as they passed through a smaller door just to the right of the gate. They entered a large, canopied courtyard, where other humans and a few Nightsiders spoke to the workers, tallied the day’s harvest or engaged in activities Daniel couldn’t identify. Daniel noted that there seemed to be little mixing between the Opiri and the humans.

Not a good sign, Daniel thought, in a place supposedly devoted to peaceful coexistence between humans and the beings they used to call vampires. But he didn’t have much time to think about it; the humans were passing through one of the doorways at the other end of the courtyard, moving more quickly as if they were eager for food and rest. Again, nobody stopped them, and they entered an open area like an immense, railed balcony that was part of a raised causeway circling the inter wall of the city. Two wide ramps on either side of the landing descended to the lower part of the city. The humans hurried down the ramps, paying no attention when Daniel fell behind.

Waiting until all the humans had left the landing, Daniel moved to the railing. His gaze followed the causeway, exactly like the one in Erebus where Bloodlords, of lesser rank but far more common than Bloodmasters, displayed their Households in grand promenades, showing off their wealth and power, accompanied by a train of their favorite serfs.

Daniel forced himself to look away to the city below. A single main avenue ran through the center of the city, terminating at the base of the largest tower. Unlike Erebus, the former Tartaros’s towers were clustered at the far end of the Citadel, piercing the half dome that protected the area from the sun. Once, such towers would have been occupied by the wealthiest and most powerful Bloodlords and Bloodladies, Bloodmasters and Bloodmistresses, shrouding blocks of lesser buildings in their shadows.

Closer in lay the low town, where Opiri of lesser rank would have made their homes, a maze of structures interspersed with plazas and small parks. The town glittered with lights like distant stars.

Tanis.

Daniel ground his teeth together, resisting the overwhelming emotions that took hold of him in that moment. He hadn’t set foot in any Citadel since Ares and his allies had helped Daniel and dozens of human serfs get out of Erebus, but he had not forgotten one moment of pain or humiliation, not one day of being chained like a dog or forced to give blood to a ruthless master and other Opiri of his master’s acquaintance.

This Citadel had changed, yes. Half of it was now open to the sky. Human workers left and entered the city without being subjected to checks or examinations.

But that didn’t mean Tanis was like Delos or Avalon or the other mixed colonies. It would be a miracle if it were.

“A lovely sight, is it not?”

Daniel stiffened and then forced himself to relax. The woman who had come to stand beside him at the railing spoke softly, without concern or threat. But the hairs at the back of his neck prickled with recognition even before he turned to look at her.

The first thing he noticed was her hair. Glossy and black as a raven’s feathers, it fell past her shoulders and almost seemed to move of its own accord as she spoke, tempting any man within reach to run his fingers through it.

But the hair framed something even more remarkable: a face of astonishing beauty by the judgment of human or Nightsider. Her chin was firm, her brows finely shaped, her eyes nearly black with the slightest tinge of deepest purple, her lips full. The skin of her face and bare arms was golden bronze. Hints of her figure appeared beneath the layers of her flowing, semitransparent robes—a hip here, a breast or shoulder there. Daniel had no doubt that this woman’s body was as sleek and perfect as her face, hair and voice.

And there was something more about her that Daniel felt all the way down to his bones: a profound charisma, a pull that Daniel had experienced before, and not only in Erebus.

Surely she couldn’t be what his senses told him. Not with hair like that or eyes so dark or teeth as blunt as any human’s.

But Ares’s hair was just as black, an anomaly among pale-haired, pale-skinned Opiri. And he knew of other anomalies. Daniel, for instance, lacked the sharp Nightsider cuspids of his kind, the half-breed offspring of a Nightsider father and a human mother. He looked nothing like a normal dhampir, and had no need for blood.

She was not what she was pretending to be.

“It is beautiful,” he said, as if he believed she was only another human sharing the view.

“It isn’t often that our fellow humans come here,” she said, every word as rich and smooth as sun-warmed honey. “I often wonder why that is so.”

Daniel gripped the railing, breathed deeply and unclenched his fingers. “Memories of a darker past?” he said.

She ran her fine-fingered hand along the railing and gazed at him until he had no choice but to look at her fully. Her eyes were not only striking; they were wise and perceptive and sharp with intelligence.

“Were you one of the original inhabitants?” she asked. “I do not recognize you as a former serf of Tartaros.”

“No,” he said. “I came here for refuge, after I escaped from another Citadel.”

“How long have you been here?”

Daniel leaned against the railing. “In Tanis? A few months,” he said.

“Not long enough to forget what your life was like before,” she said, sympathy in her voice. “This still must be very strange for you—a Citadel without masters and serfs.”

He smiled with one side of his mouth. “Can you read minds?”

“No. But I have had many years of experience in understanding people.”

Many years. Daniel looked at her out of the corner of his eye. How many? he wondered. A hundred? A thousand? Certainly far more than the twenty-odd years her body and face suggested.

“May I know your name?” she asked, moving closer to him.

It didn’t matter what he called himself, he thought. It was highly unlikely that anyone here would know him from Erebus, Delos or Avalon.

“Daniel,” he said.

“I am Isis,” she said.

He held his breath for a moment and then let it out slowly. How appropriate that her name should be that of a goddess, as Ares’s was that of a god.

If Ares had been here, she would certainly know.

“You have just come in from a shift in the fields,” Isis said, breaking the silence. “You must be tired, and hungry.”

He went on his guard. Her concern seemed a little too intimate. And she was standing too damned close, close enough that he could smell her fresh, citrusy scent and hear the beat of her heart.

“Where do you work, Isis?” he asked.

“In the administrative offices,” she said. “It is an easy job compared to the fields.”

“We all do what we’re best suited for,” he said.

“That is how it is supposed to be, is it not?” she asked, her lovely lips sliding into a faint frown. “The more difficult the work, the higher the reward.”

“You don’t agree?” he asked.

“‘Difficult’ is a subjective concept. Should one person be given more credit for being able to do what another person cannot?”

“There is no perfect system,” he said.

She cocked her head. “And I think you were no ordinary serf, Daniel,” she said, sliding her hand closer to his.

The comment was too personal, and definitely unwelcome. “I had a decent education in my Enclave before I was sent to the Citadel,” he said coolly.

“Or perhaps you were never a serf at all?”

He stared at her, suppressing his anger. This was the interrogation he’d expected if he’d been caught entering the city, but it wasn’t proceeding at all in the way he’d imagined.

But I was caught, he thought. This was no chance meeting.

“Oh, yes,” he said, very softly. “I was a serf, for many years.”

“In what Citadel?”

He was prepared for the question. “Vikos,” he said, naming a Nightsider Citadel in the area once known as northern Arizona.

“And you escaped?” she asked.

“Bloodlords don’t release their serfs.”

“Except here,” she said.

He pretended not to hear her. “Where did you come from, Isis?” he asked.

“I was never in bondage,” she said, looking down at her slender hands on the railing.

“Then why are you in an isolated Citadel instead of in a human Enclave?”

“Perhaps because I believe in what this city represents. There are many like me, or this place could not exist.” She met Daniel’s eyes. “Of all the refuges you might have sought when you escaped, you chose Tanis rather than a human compound or even another Enclave. Yet surely you have good reason to hate Opiri?”

“I don’t hate them,” he said. “My own fa—”

He broke off, appalled at what he had been about to say. It was she, this woman, who threw him so off balance with her allure and questions and keen observations. It was as if she’d known him before.

She came from outside, he thought. From some other Citadel, where she must have been a Bloodlady of distinction, an owner of many human serfs.

“The majority of humans here are former serfs, aren’t they?” he asked. “Do they hate all Opiri?”

“No. I must seem rather foolish.” She smiled again. “In which ward do you live?”

This wasn’t a question he’d expected. He knew too little about Tanis to answer.

“I need to get home,” he said suddenly. “It’s been pleasant talking to you, Isis. Maybe we’ll meet again.”

“I am certain of it,” she said. Behind her, men in olive-drab uniforms—both of them Darketans, children of Opir mothers and human fathers, human in appearance save for their sapphire eyes and sharp teeth—advanced on Daniel with shock sticks in hand.

“What’s going on?” he asked, backing away in seeming confusion.

“Please go with these men,” she said, her voice still as musical, her face every bit as flawlessly beautiful as before. He felt the push of her “influence,” that particular gift limited to the most ancient and powerful Bloodmasters and Bloodmistresses.

But he was fortunate enough to be virtually immune to the lady’s subtle power. “Why?” he asked, his gaze fixed on the guards.

“I know you are not a citizen of Tanis, Daniel,” she said. “We do not allow strangers to enter our city without first being questioned and screened.”

“You turn away refugees?” Daniel asked.

“Only those incompatible with our way of life,” she said.

“Do you enjoy spying on your own kind?” he asked, still playing along with her masquerade.

She blinked several times. “You were recognized as an outsider when you entered the gates,” she said. “My purpose was only to determine if you were a threat to us.”

“A threat?” he said, holding his arms out to his sides. “How?”

“Please, Daniel, go peacefully. You will not be harmed.”

“And if I refuse?” Daniel asked.

Moving almost more quickly than Daniel could detect, the two guards lunged at him. One of them caught his left arm. He swung around, defending himself without thought, and punched the guard in the face with his fist. The second guard grabbed his right arm and twisted it behind him.

Everything within him, all the instinctive desire to be free, urged him to keep fighting. Panic nearly overwhelmed him, but he pushed it down. He bore the pain silently and allowed the other guard to jerk his other arm behind him. Manacles locked around his wrists.

He gave Isis a long, cold look. “They were wrong about this place,” he said as the guards pulled him away. “And you’re wrong about me.”

“Come quietly,” the Darketan guard said. “You don’t have anything to be afraid of.”

“Wait,” Isis called after them as they turned for the archway. “I will accompany you.”

The two guards inclined their heads...deferring to Isis, Daniel thought, as if they were still in a traditional Citadel. Daniel knew that they, like him, were feeling that indefinable magnetism, whether she intended to use it on them or not.

Head down, Daniel slipped into his role as a downtrodden serf.

Letting all the resistance go out of his body, Daniel allowed the guards to escort him back down the left ramp. He was aware of Isis behind them, though her footsteps were almost inaudible to his sharp hearing. He still didn’t understand how an Opir of her obvious stature would be employed in meeting and questioning outsiders, unless her work could be considered evidence of real equality in Tanis.

But he was still a prisoner, and he couldn’t afford to remain one. Nor could he risk being ejected from the city without getting the answers he needed.

The ramp ended abruptly at ground level in the low town and led out onto a wide plaza open to the sky. Clearly designed to be as welcoming as possible, adorned with decorative murals, many benches and large planters filled with flowers, the plaza was deserted save for a few humans strolling along tiled water channels cut into the concrete. They smiled and bowed to Isis as she passed by, and some of the men stopped and stared as if they had never seen anything so beautiful. On every side stood recently built, multistory buildings; above, the stars were so numerous and bright that it felt more like twilight than full night. The partial dome at the other end of the city cast a deeper, almost sinister shadow.

They crossed the plaza toward a cluster of tall buildings. The guards headed for one of the larger structures and pushed Daniel through the door.

A large reception area was dominated by a desk attended by a human receptionist sorting through a stack of papers. She immediately rose to her feet and stood alert while another pair of uniformed Darketans materialized from a corridor behind the desk. Three pairs of eyes made note of Daniel and then focused on the woman behind him.

“Isis,” the receptionist said, her voice a little breathless, her smile very bright. “How may we serve you?”

“I will require a private room,” she said, sweeping past Daniel and the guards.

The receptionist’s gaze fell on Daniel. “Will you require more guards?” she asked with a worried frown.

“I need none,” Isis said, glancing at Daniel with a slim, raised brow. “I do not think our friend will cause any trouble.”

“Yes, Isis.” The receptionist nodded to one of the guards behind her, who strode back into the corridor. A few moments later he returned and nodded to Isis.

“If you will come with me,” he said.

With Isis striding ahead of them, Daniel’s guards led him past the desk and into the corridor. It was dim and plain, punctuated by a dozen identical doors. The escorting guard stopped at one of them, unlocked it and inclined his head to Isis.

“If you need assistance—” he began.

“I know what to do.”

The guard held the door open for her. The room was as featureless as the corridor, with gray walls, a single table and two chairs.

“Unbind him,” Isis said. Daniel’s guards exchanged glances and unlocked the manacles. Putting on a mask of confusion and fear, Daniel shivered and rubbed his wrists.

“There is nothing to be afraid of,” Isis said, catching his gaze. She believed his panic was real. She took his arm, and he felt the power of her nature, magnified a hundred times—warm, soothing, almost magical. As the door closed behind them, she led him to one of the chairs at the single table.

“Please, sit,” she said.

Daniel took one of the chairs and watched Isis as she sat at the opposite side of the table.

“Now,” she said, “it will be easier for everyone if you cooperate. Nobody will hurt you, but we must know why you are here.”

And that, Daniel thought, was precisely what he couldn’t tell her.

Chapter 2

Daniel pitched his voice a little high to suggest nervousness and clasped his hands under the table. “I told you,” he said. “I came here for refuge.”

She smiled almost sadly, her teeth perfect and white. Once again Daniel felt the impact of her fascination, the seductive call of predator to prey, the effortless ability to bring “lesser” creatures under her control. Once again he shook it off.

“You came secretly, without declaring yourself,” she said. “Why would you take such an approach?”

Avoiding her gaze, he stared at the tabletop. “I had to be sure,” he said.

“Sure of what?”

“That the stories about Tanis being a refuge were true.”

Isis spread her own delicate hands on the table. “I can assure you that they are.” She spoke with sympathy, and Daniel was aware that his body was responding to her naturally seductive body and the warm scent of her skin. His mind was clear enough, but his heart was beating too fast, and another part of his anatomy was very much at attention.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked, bringing his body back under restraint.

It was the wrong thing to say—certainly nothing a wary and frightened former serf would have asked. Maintaining the balance was tricky at best.

He wasn’t sure he could keep up the pretense.

She studied him, her dark eyes intent on his face. “I told you—we make certain that newcomers can live with our rules and will be comfortable beginning a new life here,” she said. “The same concerns apply for both humans and Opiri. But there are those who have come to observe our city in secret so that they can take reports back to their people.”

“You mean spies?” he asked in a much quieter voice, edged with alarm. “Why would anyone do that?”

“Some of them fear us, Daniel. We believe that the Enclaves and the Citadels throughout the west have learned what we have accomplished and may regard us as a threat to the separate worlds they have built, though those worlds are built upon hostility and a truce that might fail at any moment.”

Isis was right, Daniel thought. He remembered the mad Bloodlord in the northwest who had nearly started another war because he had stolen half-blood children and recruited rogue Freebloods—lordless Opiri—with the intent of attacking the Citadels and, eventually, the human Enclaves, as well. The Armistice had always balanced on the head of a pin, and a stiff wind could blow it off and plunge the world back into chaos.

“Do you think some Citadel or Enclave would attack you?” he asked.

“We do not know. But it is possible they may send agents to observe us, so you see that we must screen everyone who seeks sanctuary in Tanis. There can be no exceptions.”

So they must have screened Ares, Daniel thought. “What do you want from me?” he asked with feigned anxiety.

Her expression turned grave. “At the causeway,” she said, “you said you escaped from Vikos.”

“Yes,” he said, after a calculated hesitation.

“That is at least a five-hundred-mile journey,” Isis said, “much of it through mountainous territory. You came so far alone?”

“Yes,” Daniel said, looking past her at the drab wall.

“And your supplies?”

“I left them behind when I came into the city.”

“Your clothes are not too worn. Did you steal them?”

Daniel didn’t answer.

“You must have had help along the way.”

“There are...humans hiding everywhere,” he said. “Trying to survive and keep away from Opir hunters.”

“And none would come with you?”

Daniel shook his head. “They were afraid this was a trap.”

“But you were not?”

“In Vikos,” Daniel said, “there were rumors that humans here were more than—”

He broke off, but Isis completed the sentence for him. “Chattel?” she said, her lush mouth setting in a thin line.

“Yes.”

“And you chose to risk coming here, based only upon a rumor?”

Daniel swallowed, as if debating whether or not to continue. “It was a risk I was willing to take.” His jaw tightened. “But I will never let anyone take me prisoner again.”

“I understand,” Isis murmured.

Daniel imagined that he heard pity in her voice. He had never needed or accepted pity from any human or Nightsider, and he wanted none of hers.

“Do you think I am a spy?” he asked. “Who would I spy for? The Enclave that cast me out as a criminal and sent me into slavery? Vikos, where I was treated no better than an animal?”

“It seems unlikely,” she said soothingly.

“Very unlikely.” He laughed with half-feigned bitterness. “What do I have to do to prove myself?”

“We will keep you in a quiet room for a time, and others will speak to you. Once we are certain you are no threat, you will have the opportunity to—”

Daniel jumped out of his chair, nearly knocking it over. “You’ll lock me up?”

“You will be comfortable. Nobody will—”

“No manacles,” he said, working his fists. It was barely an act.

She rose slowly. “We have no intention of binding you. That is not done here, except when it is absolutely necessary.” She moved toward him, her white-and-gold robes swirling around her feet. Before he could back away, she touched his hand, her fingers—warm and soft and gentle—stroking his arm. Her influence washed over and through him.

“You must understand that not all Opiri are like the ones you knew in Vikos,” she said. “I will prove it to you.” She released his hand. “Can you trust me?”

Daniel knew how easily she could make most humans accept anything she said, do anything she bid without the need for compulsion.

He let her believe she was succeeding.

“I trust you,” he said slowly.

“I am Opir,” she said.

He put the length of the room between them, keeping his gaze unfocused and his voice on the edge of panic. “You have...dark hair,” he stammered. “Your eyes...”

“Nevertheless,” she said, “I am what you humans call a Nightsider, and I would never do you harm.”

Don’t overplay it, Daniel told himself. “You tricked me,” he said, pressing himself against the wall.

“It is easier for new humans if one of their own kind introduces him or her to our world, but it is the work I have chosen, and my appearance makes it possible.” She removed the caps from her teeth. “You did not guess, Daniel?”

He dropped his eyes. “No, my lady.”

“I am only Isis here.” She searched his face. “You never suspected? You were not playing a game to deceive me?”

“How could I?” he whispered.

“Because I think you know that most Opiri never consider the possibility of being deceived by a human.” She paused, as if carefully choosing her words. “Even if you had attacked me when I found you, there would be no punishment. We understand a former serf’s justifiable fear and anger.”

“We? Did you feel the same when you owned serfs?”

“I never kept any human in bondage, nor did I take part in the War.”

“But you hunted humans for blood.”

“I never killed,” she said. “But I saw much suffering. Six years ago I was among those who discovered this Citadel after it had fallen into chaos and savagery. I began to realize what life on our world could be.”

“And you changed it?”

“I can take little responsibility for what Tanis has become. All our citizens have shared in the work. We established new laws, expelled the worst of the Bloodlords and freed the serfs, giving them the choice of whether to remain under a new regime based on equality, or go their own way in freedom.”

“How many stayed?”

“Most chose to take a chance with us.”

“And the Opiri? Did they agree to abide by your new laws and give up their Households?”

“Those who did not were quickly removed from the city.”

“But you’ve still got former serfs living with their former masters.”

“We have many immigrants from other Citadels and Enclaves, people who have no experience of Tanis as it was.” Her eyes were bright and earnest. “There is safety here. Safety we must maintain.” She stroked his arm. “I see more than one man in you, Daniel. You are an enigma. I think you pretend to be a fearful and defiant serf now, but that is not what you were when we first met. Whatever the purpose of this act, it is unnecessary...unless, of course, you mean us ill. And I do not believe you do.”

If she had been any other woman, human or Opiri, Daniel would have interpreted her lingering touches as an invitation. But he already knew better, even if his body continued to react as if she might invite him to her bed as a willing partner.

Manipulation. Deception. She was as controlling as any Bloodmistress with dozens of serfs at her command.

Once again he shut down his body’s response. “You will still hold me here,” he said, “whether you believe it or not.”

“I would understand your true nature, Daniel, and your reason for coming to Tanis.”

“I’ve given my reason.”

“Yet now you doubt that what you sought is real, simply because you were brought in for questioning.” She lifted his chin with her soft hand. “I do not expect you to understand this all at once. But if your hope brought you here, it will help you to see with new eyes, and leave behind your old habits of servitude. If you choose to stay.”

“When you haven’t even decided whether or not to make me leave?”

Isis sighed and shook her head. “You are in need of fresh clothing, a good meal and rest. We shall discuss these matters in greater detail at another time.” She let her hand drift down his arm. “Let me show you to your quarters here at the Center. When you have been cleared, you will be given a tour of the city and time enough to see what we have to offer. Then you shall be granted a chance to apply for citizenship...if that is what you desire.”

He dropped the mask completely and straightened, glad to shed the false weight of fear and submission. “And what is the price?” he asked.

“As you must know,” she said, “every citizen is expected to do his or her part, human or Opiri.”

“Humans have to give blood,” he said.

“Willingly,” she said. “But you must have known that.” She tapped on the door, and the guards opened it.

“I will take Daniel myself,” she said.

The guards’ faces tightened with worry, but they made no protest. Isis, Daniel thought, had them in the palm of her hand.

He followed her along the corridor to a door at the rear of the building. A second, smaller building stood on the other side of a narrow garden. Summer flowers nodded gently in the breeze left by Isis’s passing as if they, too, offered obeisance.

“These are the visitor’s quarters,” she said. “They are used only until the prospective citizen has been properly introduced to the city and is assigned a permanent residence. I hope you will find your room comfortable.”

The room she indicated was near the back of the building. She opened the locked door with a key hidden somewhere among her robes and invited him inside.

It was more or less what Daniel had expected: a bed, a small table, two chairs, a small chest with a lamp. An inner door led to a bathroom. There were no windows.

A thread of real panic worked its way through Daniel’s gut. He hated small, windowless rooms. He hated being a prisoner. But he’d known it might come to this, and so he stepped inside.

“I will see that food and drink are brought immediately,” Isis said. “Clothes will come after I report the sizes you require.” She looked him up and down with a faint smile. “I think I have already made an accurate estimate.”

An intensely physical tension rose between them as Daniel realized that she had been as fully aware of his body as he had been of hers.

Her smile faltered, and he had the sense that she was startled by the change in the air, as if she had suddenly lost the use of a tool she had wielded with ease all her life.

What would she do, Daniel thought, if he let her see just how little under her influence he really was?

She must have seen something in his eyes that alarmed her, for she looked away and backed toward the door. “I will speak to you again soon,” she said. “Rest well, Daniel.”

In a moment she was gone, and the door lock engaged. Daniel sat down on the bed and stripped off his boots, dirty shirt and pants, trying to distract his thoughts from Isis and the sense of walls closing in around him. He stepped into the shower and imagined that the water was washing away the memories, but they were never far from his thoughts. Part of him still lived in that tiny, dirty cell Lord Palemon had kept him in when Daniel wasn’t being used or punished for defiance. Even his good years with Ares and his time in Avalon and Delos hadn’t erased that cell from his mind.

When he walked out of the bathroom, Isis was standing by the door. A tray of food and a pitcher of water lay on the table, but Daniel barely noticed them. Isis wet her lips and stared at him, and his body reacted exactly as it had before. This time there was no concealing it.

“I am flattered,” Isis said huskily.

“It’s no less than you expect from any man who comes near you,” he said.

Her brows drew down. “You are discourteous, Daniel.”

“And you aren’t used to discourtesy, are you? You don’t have to order anyone to get what you want.”

Her dark eyes sparked with anger, bringing out the deep purple lurking within them, and Daniel laughed inwardly. She wasn’t so different from the Opiri he’d known in Erebus, or even some of those he’d met outside in the colonies. She summoned respect, even if she didn’t acknowledge it.

“You’re a Bloodmistress,” Daniel said bluntly. “You were born to influence others.”

He was surprised to see distress in her expression. “What do you know of it?”

“Do you deny it?” he demanded.

She wrapped her arms around her chest and shivered. “You are wrong.”

“A pity you never had a chance to own another intelligent being,” Daniel said. “Then you could have had absolute power.”

“I do not want it!” She gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles turning white against her golden skin. “You do not know me. You see only what you wish to see.”

“Then you do deny it, in spite of all the bows and smiles and deference everyone shows you, as if you were the goddess your name implies.”

“I made no attempt to influence you,” she insisted, her golden skin turning pale.

“Maybe not consciously,” he said, relenting a little, “but instinctively. Because you are what you are.”

“That is truly what you think of me?”

“We’re strangers,” he said. “What should I think?”

To his astonishment, she worked at the fastenings of her robes, and they fell like water to her feet. Beneath them she was naked. And breathtaking. Her body was sweetly curved, full-breasted and hipped, her legs shapely and strong, her waist supple.

“You cannot abide losing control, Daniel,” she said. “That is your rebellion against your old life. Now I give you a choice. You may prove to yourself that I cannot influence you...because I want you, and I will do nothing to make you want me.”

Chapter 3

Lust shone in Daniel’s pale blue eyes, but he made no move toward Isis.

He was disciplined, she thought. Disciplined and proud, yet willing to set aside his pride to play the serf if he thought it was to his benefit.

But he had also accused her of trying to dominate others with her influence. Surely that could not be true; she had sworn to give up such power long ago.

At the moment, Daniel had all the power. Dangerous was the word that kept coming to mind, even though he was still a prisoner. His body fascinated her; every part of him was whipcord muscle and lean grace, like one of the wildcats that roamed the wilderness. His skin had been bronzed by exposure to the sun, and his eyes were bright and keen in his tanned, handsome face.

She had never met a human who had such an effect on her, not in all her long years of life, though she had known thousands upon thousands of men; men who had worshipped her as a goddess, laying gifts at her feet, willing to serve her in any way she desired.

This man would never serve her. There was a hardness in him, scars she could feel but not see, experiences she could only imagine in spite of her time spent with former serfs. She had always been able to sense what lay in human hearts, had regarded them with sympathy and pity. But Daniel...

He would reject her pity, her sympathy, and any offer to guide him as she did the thousands she had sworn to protect. And still she reacted to his proximity as if she were a starving Opir in the presence of fresh, pumping blood.

How could it be that she should desire a man who was not only a stranger to the city, but an utter enigma to her? How could her body betray her so cruelly? What had she meant to prove by stripping herself and standing before him, a living offering to one who could so easily disdain her?

“Enough of these games,” Daniel said in a husky voice, his gaze never leaving hers. The back of her neck prickled as he drew closer. His steps were nearly as silent as an Opir’s, his stride loose and easy.

But he was no more relaxed than she was. The physical evidence of his desire had not abated, and his nearness stiffened her nipples and brought her to aching readiness.

“What do you want, Isis?” he murmured. “What are you hoping to gain from this? Are you hungry for blood that doesn’t come from a storage unit? Or do you think you’ll learn something about me you can’t get any other way?”

Anger blurred her vision. He mocked her, but she had made herself a target. She could ignore Anu or Ereshkigal when they derided her for her lack of objectivity in her devotion to mankind, but this was different. This was very personal. She had thrown aside all her pride to prove to this one man, this human...

She reached out and took his hand, laying it on her breast. He sucked in a sharp breath, and his gaze fell to his hand on her skin.

“I want nothing,” she whispered, “except to prove that I—”

He caught her lips with his, pressing his palm against her breast. There was no hesitation in him now. His tongue plunged inside her mouth, and she felt for the table behind her, her knees going weak. He cradled her head in the crook of his arm while he stroked her nipple with his other hand, kissing her mouth and her throat and her shoulder.

Then she noticed the thick scar tissue on his neck, the residue of hundreds of bites never properly healed. She flinched, sickened by the implications of those scars. Not only had he been bitten hundreds of times, but the Opiri who had used him hadn’t bothered to mend the wounds they left in his flesh. It would have been a simple matter of altering the chemicals in their saliva to close the wounds and set them to healing.

But Daniel didn’t seem to notice her concern. He swept her up in his arms, carrying her easily to the narrow bed. He laid her down and immediately knelt over her, his eyes clouded with hunger. A moment later his mouth was on her nipple, licking and then suckling it while he eased his body over hers. She parted her thighs and arched up against him, moaning deep in her throat.

He kissed her again and slid his hand down her belly to the moistness between her legs. He knew exactly what to do, and in seconds she was gasping, at the mercy of her body’s reaction as if she had never known such sensations before. Daniel knew she had surrendered; he pinned her arms above her head, almost tenderly, and kissed his way down her body from breast to hip, pausing only for a moment before his mouth found the center of her pain and pleasure.

His tongue was an expert tool, licking and exploring, making her tremble violently in anticipation. When he dipped it inside her, all she could think of was taking the rest of him, drawing him in, feeling him moving and thrusting and carrying her to the heights.

As if he’d read her thoughts, he slid his body up over hers and braced himself on his arms. He looked into her eyes and brushed a strand of her hair away from her lips.

“How long has it been?” he asked gently.

Isis didn’t want to talk. But she felt him waiting for her answer, withholding himself until she gave it up as she gave up her body.

“Not...since I came to Tanis,” she whispered. “I must...remain apart...”

“Why?”

“It is my place...to guide them, show them...the way to live in peace and harmony.”

“Humans?”

“They...they need—”

Suddenly his warmth vanished, the weight of his body gone as he rolled away. Instinctively she closed her legs and covered her chest as if she herself were a serf on the block, ready for claiming.

“I am honored that you chose to suspend your noble chastity with me,” he said from across the room, “but I wouldn’t want to interfere with your work.”

She sat up, meeting his steady gaze with shattered dignity, stung by emotions that had seemed so distant for so many centuries: wounded pride, regret, confusion.

But she could not let him see. He must not know how deeply she felt his rejection. The rejection of a human, who should have been grateful—

No, she thought. That was the old way, the wrong way. This small error in judgment changed nothing: not her commitment to aiding the humans of Tanis, nor her attitude toward Daniel. It would be as if this had never happened.

She would learn who and what Daniel was, why he should have such power to make her forget herself so completely. She would learn his weakness.

Rising from the bed, she gathered up her robes and pulled them on, letting them hang loose.

“I thank you for reminding me of my purpose,” she said. “I will not make such a mistake again.”

To her surprise, Daniel looked away. He turned and walked into the bathroom, and for the first time Isis saw the other scars he carried on his body: the raised pink and brown welts from numerous savage beatings crisscrossing his back, and lower, layer upon layer.

Ill and dizzy, Isis reached for the bed table. Memories. He carried them with him every day, and he could never escape their mark.

Someone tapped on the door behind her. She fastened her robes and opened the door.

“Lady,” the human attendant said, color rising in his cheeks. “I have the visitor’s clothes. Should I come back at another—”

“No.” She smiled at him, and his body relaxed. “I am just leaving.” She took the clothes from him and laid them across the bed. Daniel had not emerged from the bathroom when she left.

Still bewildered by the intensity of her feelings—the lust, the fascination, the pity—she gave brief instructions to the guards and sought her own quarters. Unlike most of her peers among the Nine, she preferred to live near the humans with whom she spent so much of her time, in a fifth-floor apartment that held little of the extravagance some high-ranking Opiri enjoyed.

Supposedly, such ranks did not exist in Tanis, and most Opir citizens preferred to live in the towers under the half dome. It was only sensible, since they could not tolerate sunlight.

Once in her apartment, Isis bathed and dressed in fresh robes. Daniel’s earthy scent had become entangled with the fabric, and she instructed her maid to have them washed as soon as possible.

She sipped the blood from her small personal store and found it almost unpalatable. Of course there was no comparison to taking fresh blood from its source, but that was considered a transaction between two private individuals and carefully regulated.

Had Daniel known that, when he mocked her about being hungry for his blood? Did he think she would take it without his express consent?

Her mouth went dry as she thought about what he had done and how tempted she would have been if he had completed the act. If she had so much as touched his neck with her lips...

But that had not happened, she reminded herself. Nor was there any chance of it happening in the future. She would simply find someone else to finish questioning him.

Gathering her composure about her like a heavy day coat, she prepared herself for the meeting of the Nine. She was in no mood to deal with Ereshkigal’s sullen manner or Anu’s arrogance, but it couldn’t be helped. The Elders of Tanis had set policy for the city, and though they did not enact or enforce laws, their opinions had weight with the elected Council of ordinary Opiri and humans. She must be there because she was one of the Nine most personally sympathetic to humans and most protective of their dignity.

She laughed quietly. Had she respected Daniel’s dignity? Was she so unaware of her own flaws that a human must point them out? Was she so careless with her power, so accustomed to the influence that she didn’t even realize she was still using it?

“It’s part of what you are,” Daniel had said. But giving guidance was not the same as ruling like a true goddess. The one was necessary; the other was lost in her ancient past.

Still struggling with her conflicting emotions, she called for a shuttle that would carry her through the human sector to the rear of the city and the towers of the Opiri. As always, she felt as if she were entering a different world; as always, it troubled her deeply. There should be no dividing line between Tanis’s human citizens and its Opiri, and yet the half dome’s shadow was that line. There were times when both races, and the half-bloods, were expected to mingle—as in the forthcoming Games and Festival—but there was always a guardedness, especially on the part of the humans.

Isis had never ceased to hope that would change.

The driver left her at the bottom of the spiraled ramp that reached from ground level to the base of the main tower and the elevated causeway that circled the city. The old Citadel had originally been built with three elevators for each of its six towers, with a single elevator serving a powerful Bloodmaster’s Household and the other two assigned to several smaller Households of influential Bloodlords and Bloodladies. Since the reclaiming of the Citadel, the former serfs’ quarters had been remodeled, and former Households had been split up to accommodate most of the city’s Opiri, even the formerly houseless Freebloods.

But this entire tower belonged to the Nine, and nobody questioned their right to it.

Isis took the first elevator past several floors assigned to three of the Nine, stopping at the highest floor. There a large chamber, which encompassed the entire top floor of the tower, served as a meeting room more lavishly furnished and decorated than her own simple quarters. The Nine had confiscated works of fine and decorative arts from the towers’ previous inhabitants, and now kept them safe for the people of Tanis.

Isis paused just outside the elevator door to take in the scents and sights of the treasure room, basking in its beauty. On a small pedestal stood a very old sculpture, chipped and cracked, of a serene woman kneeling on one knee, her arms draped with plumage, a sun-disk set between a pair of horns gracefully balanced atop her head.

It was strange to look at it now, when Isis could still recall a time when it had been new. When she had been that figure, wearing a winged robe and carrying that same horned crown upon her head.

“Reminiscing?” Bes said, coming to join her. He was an oddity in a world of Opiri, no matter how ancient: short, round and cheerful, with a face that seemed frozen in a constant smile; large ears; and an oiled, curled beard.

Isis turned with a smile. “It is better to think of the future, don’t you agree?”

“Yes. But, ah, those were the days.”

“You find plenty of amusement with your human friends...at least in their taverns.”

Bes laughed. “They do know how to enjoy themselves. Not like—” He grimaced. “‘Uneasy is the head that wears the crown.’”

“You do Anu a disservice,” Isis said. “He is no king.”

“Tell him that.”

“We are ready to begin,” someone called from behind them. It was Hera in her deep blue chiton, a glittering peacock pendant hanging from her slender throat.

Bes rolled his eyes. “Let’s get this over with,” he said.

They walked around the corner into the meeting area. The space was dominated by a large, beautifully designed round table, and the walls were decorated with murals and works of fine art on every side.

As was customary, Anu sat at the head of the table, Ereshkigal on one side and Hephaestus on the other. Hephaestus stood out from the others with his slightly misshapen body and his limp, but so did Athena and Hermes—Athena with her bright gray eyes, and Hermes with his red-gold hair. Anu, Bes, Ereshkigal, Ishtar, Hera, and Isis herself were dark haired and golden skinned.

They all stood out among the pale-skinned, white-haired Opiri, but their differences in appearance only reinforced their position in Tanis.

“Be seated,” Anu said.

The others gathered around and took their respective chairs, Isis opposite Anu. Fond of ritual as he was, Anu brought the meeting to order with words in a language nearly forgotten even by the Elders of Tanis, and called upon each of them in turn.

Hephaestus and Ereshkigal, who lived among the Opiri, had little to report. Neither did Anu. None of their people had broken any laws or attempted to take blood from unwilling humans.

“Because they are seldom among humans,” Isis said. “How can they face and overcome such temptations if they remain among their own kind?”

“There is peace here, and no taking of serfs,” Anu said. “Is that not sufficient?”

Not for the first time, she examined Anu’s face, sensing that he was hiding something he did not want her to know. Hephaestus and Ereshkigal seemed to avoid her gaze.

But what would they have to conceal? They had all come to Tanis seeking the same way of life, worked toward the same goals.

Knowing it was better not to air her doubts at the table, Isis listened while Hermes spoke of the half-bloods—chiefly Darketans—under his aegis, and Hera and Ishtar reported on the status of their wards in the human sector. They offered only the briefest and most general commentary, as if “their” humans were of little real interest to them in spite of the Nine’s noble intentions.

With Bes it was entirely different. He was his usual cheerful self, offering nothing but praise for the humans with whom he so readily associated. If there were problems, he would never admit it.

Athena, who valued wisdom, assured her fellow Elders that her humans were content. That left Isis.

Immediately she remembered Daniel and quickly dismissed the thought. “We have had record numbers of humans apply to join us here,” she said with satisfaction. “It is as if they see our city as a beacon, shining throughout the wilderness.”

“How many actually escaped from the Citadels?” Anu asked.

“No matter how harsh their discipline, no Citadel can prevent all escapes. Most of the humans here are prepared to work hard and appreciate the strength of our defenses against outside forces.” She glanced at Athena. “They have settled throughout the city... I am surprised that none of you have reported the influx in your wards.”

“Of course I am always glad to see more humans in Tanis,” Athena said.

“My assistants will have this information,” Hera said, fondling the peacock pendant.

“I will look into it,” Ishtar said. “I would regret not having greeted them personally.”

Isis looked at her askance. Ishtar might consider most humans beneath her, but she was ready enough to take them to her bed for her own amusement.

And am I so much better? Isis thought.

“Have you nothing to say about this human who entered our city without identifying himself?” Anu asked.

Of course Anu would know, she thought. He made it his business to look after all of Tanis, and he had agents who watched and reported back to him personally. He was not secretive about it.

“The human is currently confined to the Immigrant Center,” she said. “He was a serf in Vikos. I have questioned him. He has given plausible reasons for entering Tanis without declaring himself, but of course I will investigate further.”

“See that you do,” Anu said. “We know the Enclaves and Citadels are watching us for any sign of weakness or vulnerability.”

“The Enclaves observe out of fear, and the Citadels with an eye toward conquest and stealing our humans. But I believe this human’s story.”

“You have never been objective enough where humans are concerned,” Anu said.

Isis rose from her chair and met Anu’s gaze. “I know my duty,” she said, “and have no need to be reminded.”

Anu’s lip curled slightly under his tightly braided beard, but he nodded his head.

“Very well,” he said. “I would have all of you remember that the Games and Festival will soon be upon us. It is time to let yourselves be seen in the human wards—especially Hera, Athena and Ishtar—to remind the humans for whose favor they compete.”

“Bread and circuses,” Bes said with a laugh. “Let the humans work out their aggressions by legally fighting each other.”

Isis winced. She had never liked the Games, which pitted one ward against another. Soon after their arrival in Tartaros, the Nine had agreed that competitions would be an excellent way to give both humans and Opiri an outlet for any hostile impulses as well as a method of cementing loyalty to the Elders of Tanis and thereby ending any lingering conflicts between Opiri and humans. To ensure fairness, Opir competed against Opir, human against human.

But things had changed since those early days. Over time, Opiri had dropped out of the Games, leaving them entirely to the humans. Isis felt that the competitions had outlived their original purpose. The Festival that followed them still served as an opportunity for Opiri and humans to mingle, but the Nine held themselves apart from the city’s humans far too often. They should walk among the people, not only during the Games, but on average days when citizens went about their ordinary business.

Isis remembered how angry she had been when Daniel had been “disrespectful” to her. Her reaction had sprung from the habits of millennia, but it discredited her own philosophy. How would Anu react to such boldness from a human?

What would he think if he found out how readily she had given herself to Daniel so soon after they had met?

“I will see to my people,” Athena said. The others Anu had admonished agreed with brief nods and sighs. Isis stepped back from her chair and walked away from the table.

“It is not wise to provoke Anu,” Athena said behind her. “He is overly proud, but he still has power.”

“No more than any of us,” Isis said, facing her friend. “We are all equals here.” She lowered her voice and touched Athena’s arm. “Perhaps you will come to my ward and see the new human. I do not think he is a danger to anyone in Tanis, but another interrogator might learn more than I have.”

“Let me do it,” Ishtar said, joining them. “I can be very persuasive.”

“And I have neglected my people too long,” Athena murmured.

“If you have failed to acquire enough information from this human,” Anu said, slipping up behind Athena, “it would be wise to let Ishtar try.”

Chapter 4

Isis considered objecting, but she had no desire for a real quarrel. Anu could be right, and he, too, held part of a long-lost past in his memory. The past Isis tried to ignore but was not yet ready to forget.

So she agreed, and she and Ishtar—the latter in robes that rivaled the most transparent and revealing garments worn in the Egypt of the old days—summoned a shuttle to take them back to the human sector.

“It is the middle of the night, when most humans are sleeping,” Isis said when the driver helped them out of the vehicle. “Come to my house and share my wine until morning.”

“But any human will be more vulnerable at such a time,” Ishtar said. “We should not delay.”

Isis knew she was right. Reluctantly she accompanied Ishtar to the Immigrant Center. She knew better than to let Ishtar into Daniel’s room, and had the guards bring him to the interrogation chamber.

Dressed in his new clothes, Daniel seemed almost like any other fit human in Tanis. But his eyes revealed nothing when he looked at Isis, and they narrowed to slits at the sight of Ishtar.

He knew Ishtar for what she was, Isis thought. She remembered with painful clarity every accusation Daniel had flung at her: You don’t have to order anyone to get what you want.

If he thought Isis was a seductress who commanded reverence with her influence, Ishtar would quickly prove that Isis had nothing on her sister of the Nine.

“Is this my new interrogator?” Daniel asked Isis in a calm, cool voice.

Unlike ordinary Opiri, Isis could blush. Even Daniel’s few, cursory words carried her back to his bed and into his arms...and reminded her of his final mockery: I am honored that you chose to suspend your noble chastity with me.

Ishtar had no concerns about chastity. She moved very close to Daniel, her eyes heavy lidded.

“I am Ishtar,” she purred. “I doubt you will find my questions unpleasant.”

Daniel smiled a cold, almost cruel smile, ignoring the brush of Ishtar’s full, barely covered breast against his shoulder. “Are you finished with me, Lady Isis?” he asked.

She lifted her chin. “I thought it was you who was finished with me.”

With a throaty laugh, Ishtar looked from Isis to Daniel. “How interesting. Did she not please you, Daniel? Was she reluctant to share her many gifts?”

“You seem eager to share yours, Lady Ishtar.”

“I have no prejudice against humans,” she said, stroking his chest with a plump forefinger.

“But you’re like Lady Isis,” he said. “A Bloodmistress used to getting your way.”

Instead of showing offense, Ishtar merely laughed again. “I see why Isis had trouble with you,” she said. “But if you have any secrets, you will give them up. If not to me, then to another.”

“My choice of pleasure or punishment?”

Isis flinched, thinking of the scars. “I told him there would be no punishment,” she told Ishtar.

“Then by all means, let us try the former.” Ishtar smiled at Isis. “Do you care to watch?”

The room filled with the smell of lust, and Isis couldn’t bear it. If she’d had any courage, she would have dragged Daniel out of the room. But Ishtar might succeed where she had failed, and all Daniel would lose was his pride. The city must come first.

She quickly left the room, locking the door behind her, and sat in the reception area. Endless moments passed. The Opir guards offered her warmed blood. She declined.

At last she heard the sound of a door opening and quickly closing again, with no little force. She rose as Ishtar entered the waiting room and swept past her to the door.

“Ishtar,” Isis called after her.

The former goddess paused, her beautiful face thin lipped and set. “He did not respond,” she said, as if she were speaking of something quite impossible. “He must be made of stone.”

With a silent sigh of relief, Isis took Ishtar’s arm. “You learned nothing?” she asked.

“Only that he has come for sanctuary, but wished to learn if Tanis was all that he had heard before he let himself be known here.”

“As he told me,” Isis said. “Surely there can be little more to tell.”

“Not if he resisted me,” Ishtar said with a toss of her black hair. “But perhaps that alone makes him dangerous.”

“He is different,” Isis said, “but we learned long ago that not all humans are the same.”

Ishtar blew out a puff of air. “I did note the scars upon his neck. His history must be quite interesting. I should advise Anu to keep Daniel in custody until he has the chance to interrogate the human himself, but I see that you have some concern for him.” She smiled slyly. “What draws you to this human, Isis? Perhaps you wish to take him as your consort? I would not blame you.”

“You know I have no need for a consort,” Isis said, “even if he would agree.”

“Yes,” Ishtar said with a faint scowl. “By all means, let us not forget that mortals are now our equals.”

“It was our goal when we arrived to take charge of Tartaros,” Isis said. “To guide, but not to rule.”

“Like Bes, you spend too much time among humans.”

“If you would look upon them as students rather than casual bed partners, you might see the value in their company.”

Ishtar snorted inelegantly. “Let me handle my charges in my own way. They are content enough.”

Isis knew she would gain nothing by arguing. At least Ishtar took a personal interest in some of her humans, and it was largely benevolent. She seduced, but did not coerce...though perhaps, with her, there was little difference.

For Daniel, there obviously hadn’t been.

“I will go back,” Isis said. “Tell Anu that Daniel will be my responsibility.”

“I will do as you ask,” Ishtar said, her voice silky with insinuation. “But do not let him get into trouble, or we shall both be in trouble with Anu.” She shook out her robes. “I think I shall seek out more willing company.”

Once Ishtar was gone, Isis returned to the Center. Daniel was still in the interrogation room, standing against the far wall with his arms folded firmly across his chest. His expression seemed carved in stone, as Ishtar had described, but his eyes held an almost feverish look.

He had not been totally unaffected, after all. Isis didn’t know whether she should be disappointed that he had felt Ishtar’s sexual appeal or pleased at his strength of will in resisting it.

“Why did you send her?” he asked her. “Did you think that since you failed, she would succeed?”

Isis sat in one of the chairs, angry and ashamed at the same time. “I could not rely entirely on my own judgment,” she said.

“I admit that I wasn’t expecting tactics like these from you, Lady Isis.”

“There are others I could have sent to question you,” she said sharply. “They might not have been so accommodating.”

“And all without punishment,” he said. “That would have been interesting.”

She closed her eyes, wondering how this human could defeat her so easily. “I have made myself responsible for you,” she said.

“Responsible?” he asked. “Why?”

“It is my decision to set you free, under my recognizance. If you commit any disturbance or prove to be an agent from an Enclave or another Citadel, I will be blamed.”

“By whom?” he asked, stepping away from the wall. “I have met two Bloodmistresses in the short time I’ve been here.” He took a step closer. “How many of you are there, Lady Isis?”

“How many of whom?”

“You said you were ‘among those’ who came here when the Citadel had fallen into chaos. Are there others like you and Ishtar?”

“Yes,” she said. “Nine of us were traveling together after the War, seeking—”

“Do they all look like you, more human than Opir?”

Isis paused at the question. The most ancient and powerful Opiri had always borne a closer resemblance to humanity than those who came after. That was the great irony most Opiri did not care to examine too closely.

“You’re an Elder,” Daniel said, speaking into her silence. “You didn’t go into the Long Sleep with all the other Opiri hundreds of years ago.”

“How would you know this?” she asked. “How many of my kind have you seen?”

“One,” he said. “But we all knew there were more still walking the earth.”

“You learned this in the Enclave, before you were exiled?”

“In Vikos.”

The serfs there had spoken of it, he meant. But whom had Daniel seen? There were other Elders who had chosen not to join the Nine in their quest, but they had seemingly vanished.

“Nine of you,” he said, before she could speak again. “All Elders. Who better to enforce the peace? Who better to rule than Opiri wiser and more experienced than nearly all others of their kind?”

“No!” she said, rising quickly. “Yes, we founded this city. But an elected Council of humans and Opiri makes the law and enforces it through the Darketan and dhampir Lawkeepers. The Nine only observe and occasionally advise.”

“And they don’t use their power of influence on the people of Tanis.”

Carefully considering how to answer, Isis hesitated. “We...agreed that every citizen of Tanis should be free in every way.”

“Ishtar agreed to this, as well?”

“I am sorry,” she said, clinging to her dignity. “It was wrong of me to call upon her.”

“I accept your apology,” Daniel said, though his expression remained forbidding. “I’d like to meet these other Elders. Unless, of course, they’re too busy to see a simple human visitor.”

“It can be arranged,” Isis said. “But there are other matters to attend to first.” She lifted her chin. “I will ask for your promise,” she said. “Your oath that you will never do anything to harm Tanis.”

* * *

Harm Tanis. It was a strange request. Daniel knew all too well that Isis feared some kind of enemy from among humans or other Opiri outside the city, but hurting Tanis was entirely beyond his capability, even if he’d wanted to do it.

The only humans or Opiri who would face opposition from him were those who prevented him from carrying out his mission. His goals hadn’t changed; he needed to gather general intelligence about Tanis and find out if Ares had passed through this city.

Isis’s description of the Nine had intrigued him, especially as it related to Ares. Ares was, like them, an Elder. If he had carried through with his mission here, it shouldn’t take long to find out what had become of him. Not when Isis had been so free with her information. Not when he seemed to have as much influence on her as she’d ever had over him.

Something had happened between them...something he hadn’t expected or wanted. He still didn’t understand why she had been so quick to offer herself to a stranger.

He glanced at Isis, who waited patiently for his answer. Oh, he knew what she claimed to want: to assure Daniel that she couldn’t or wouldn’t try to influence him. She had also claimed to desire him. A Bloodmistress, one of the Elders, wanting a former serf she knew almost nothing about.

That was the part he still had the most difficulty understanding. And yet, whatever her original intentions, she’d responded to him like a woman in the throes of passion, hungry to be touched, to be lost in sensual pleasure. That wasn’t something that could easily be faked.

But she’d also told him that he couldn’t abide losing control, that it was his way of rebelling against his old life. She thought she knew him.

That wasn’t why he’d rejected her at the end. It wasn’t because she’d implied that humans required her “guidance” and that she had to remain somehow untouchable in the eyes of the city, like some kind of sacred virgin.

He’d stopped because he had felt too much. For her, yes...as nonsensical as that might be.

But he’d also remembered: the human women who had been brought to him in Erebus...and the threats that had followed—threats to kill the women if he refused, threats of ugly punishments that would befall them if they failed to perform as breeding stock.

There had been Opiri women, as well. Palemon had lent him out to service them. He had been a useful object, like all his fellow serfs in Palemon’s Household.

Leaving that Household hadn’t erased what had been done. Neither had Daniel’s escape from Erebus, or the years of freedom afterward.

Just as he hadn’t appeared to have aged in those intervening years, the memories had remained as fresh as the blood in his veins. In spite of what he’d told Isis, he could still hate.

But didn’t hate her, even though she’d thrown Ishtar at him. He’d been cruel to Isis because of his own experiences, his own suspicions, but he hadn’t thought such cruelty was in his nature. Ruthlessness, yes, when it came to protecting those close to him or under his care. But hurting his only ally would not only be foolish, but unnecessary.

For now, he needed her, in spite of the risks. And as long as he had a job to do, he wouldn’t let the memories get in his way again.

“I promise you that I have no ill intentions toward Tanis,” he said.

Isis relaxed a little, as if she’d genuinely feared he might refuse to give his word. “I am glad,” she said.

“I apologize for my discourteous behavior,” he said, holding her gaze.

Her lips parted. “I, too, apologize for any distress I may have caused you. Perhaps we can simply begin anew.”

They gazed at each other until Isis looked away. “I can either arrange for you to stay here like most new immigrants,” she said, “or find a vacant apartment for you near the plaza. The lodgings will still be plain, but luxury is not a priority in Tanis.”

“I never expected luxury,” he said. “I only objected to the lock on the door.”

Isis flushed again. “After you have rested sufficiently and feel ready, you will be eligible for a tour of the city. We have guides whose particular work is to show newcomers around Tanis.”

“I thought that was your chosen work,” he said. “Pretending to be human so that newcomers wouldn’t feel uneasy. Or is your real job to look for immigrants who might pose a threat to Tanis?”

“It is not,” she said. “This particular area of the city—the administrative ward, the plaza and the living quarters in the area—are my responsibility.”

“Your responsibility?”

“I’m responsible for the welfare of my people.”

“You’re only concerned for the people in this area.”

“No, but I represent them for the Nine.”

“Humans, from what I saw in the plaza.”

“There are some Opiri,” she said, her voice a little defensive. “They work in the offices.”

“And other areas of Tanis?” Daniel asked. “The former Opir quarters in the lower Citadel? The towers? Who’s responsible for those?”

She hesitated, sweeping her fall of black hair away from her face. “You asked about the other Elders,” she said slowly. “When we took Tartaros from the original Bloodlords and Bloodladies and freed the serfs, we divided the city into nine wards, one for each of us. There are three Opir wards covering the towers, one for the half-bloods and the remainder in the human sector.”

“Three Opir wards covering the towers,” Daniel said. “The human sector. A city divided.”

“Some Opiri do live among humans.”

“But there are no humans living in the towers.”

Isis shifted uncomfortably. “You have just entered Tanis. You have no right to judge us yet.”

“I can only judge by what you tell me. And you’ve been honest, Isis. Even when what you say doesn’t reflect well on this city.”

Isis glanced away. “If you have such grave doubts,” she said, “why not leave Tanis now?”

“I’m permitted to leave?”

“I can see to it that you are free to do so.” She sighed, and her face took on an expression of gentle forbearance and oddly impersonal warmth. “I do understand, despite what I may have said or implied.”

“Then you will be my guide.” When she didn’t answer, he moved closer to her...close enough to touch. “You’re afraid of me, Isis. You don’t have to be.”

“Why should I fear you?”

“You’re afraid you might want me again.”

“Because you are so irresistible?”

He laughed, concealing his bitterness. She swept away from him and strode toward the door.

“Someone will take you to your new quarters soon,” she said. “You will remain in the Immigrant Center for now, but there will be no locks.” She paused in the doorway. “Exploring without a guide is highly discouraged. I will send one later this morning.”

Daniel stood alone in the room for some time after she was gone. He didn’t like himself for poking and prodding at Isis, but at least now he was certain that there were others like her and Ishtar in Tanis. After centuries of living among ordinary Opiri, Ares would have met nine of his own kind.

Would he have been tempted to make a new life here, with Trinity?

No, Daniel thought, not without sending word back to Avalon. And to him.

Daniel spent the wee hours of the morning in his new quarters, sleeping in fits and starts, haunted by ugly dreams he couldn’t remember after the sun rose over Tanis.

But he remembered Isis. She was the first thing he thought of when he opened his eyes. He bathed and dressed, considering how he could get her to agree to show him the city in spite of last night’s firm rejection.

Of course, it would be easier with some other guide, someone who wouldn’t simultaneously attract him and remind him of the shame of his past. Easier, but not nearly as useful.

If he were more careful, more respectful of Isis—if he kept his physical and emotional distance—he might persuade her to show him more than the average guide might be permitted to do.

Because he already felt that there was something not quite right in this city. It was only gut instinct, but he had learned to trust that instinct long ago.

Isis mustn’t know about his doubts, of course. All he had to do was pretend to believe what she did, and she would give him all the help he wanted.

Chapter 5

It was not Isis’s intention to go back to Daniel. Like all Opiri, she didn’t require sleep, so she had tried to distract herself with books and music and a long stroll through the gardens until dawn brought the realization that she couldn’t simply walk away from him.

There were still too many things she didn’t understand about him, and she so badly wanted to understand. He had an effect on her that she had never experienced before.

And too much remained unresolved: he had accused her of fearing him because she thought she might want him again. It was a ridiculous notion, and yet part of her was afraid. She had gone too far with him, and there was no undoing what had occurred between them.

Still, she could not allow herself to fear anything or anyone in Tanis, not if she was to play her part in the future she envisioned. Surely there could be no question of seduction now. Not on her part. And Daniel would have no reason to touch her again.

Daniel had been correct: she had made herself responsible for him, and she could not fulfill her promise if she put him into the hands of another.

So she dressed in a very simple white gown, casually adorned with a gold sash and a beaded pectoral necklace a human craftsman had made for her. She put on plain sandals and pulled her hair back, just as she would wear it on any occasion when there was work to be done. The unembroidered day coat, with its protective cowl, was the finishing touch.

Instead of summoning a private cab, she caught a shuttle with humans and Opiri on their way to jobs in the administrative offices. It was a pity that Daniel couldn’t see her then, among the people like any average citizen.

You have nothing to prove, she reminded herself. And nothing to regret.

When she reached the Immigrant Center, Daniel was pacing in the lobby, each movement imbued with a powerful grace, muscles sliding easily against each other in perfect harmony. He looked up as soon as she entered, and she saw as well as felt the change in him: his blue eyes lit as if a fire burned behind them, and there was a subtle shift in his body, as if he were shedding an invisible weight.

Isis felt her own body respond in spite of all her determination to hold herself aloof, warmth gathering between her thighs and her heart beating more quickly. She smiled at Daniel with the most neutral expression she could manage and approached him as cautiously as she might a lion in the wilderness.

“You changed your mind,” Daniel said, his voice warmer than she’d ever heard it.

“Yes. I realized that I was being unreasonable in refusing to guide you.”

“I’m glad,” Daniel said, bowing his head. The simple act confused and angered Isis, as if he were mocking her with his show of respect.

But he wasn’t mocking her. The cynicism she had expected seemed to have vanished, along with the hardness in his face and eyes.

Why the change? she thought. But she knew she should accept his manner as a gift instead of questioning it. Now she could enjoy showing him the city. If he could come to believe in it as she did...

He might stay.

She shook away the thought and smiled again. “Are you ready to begin your tour?” she asked.

“I look forward to it.”

“Then let us begin. We will walk much of the time, but there are areas where we will need other transportation.”

Daniel nodded, and she turned for the door.

They began in the main plaza. The sun shone in open sky above, and Isis was careful to keep her cowl over her head when they were exposed to the daylight.

She showed Daniel the multistory apartment buildings the citizens had built after Tanis had been established on Tartaros’s foundations. Very few Opiri lived in the apartments, but the humans there acknowledged her and Daniel with smiles and words of greeting. She was relieved that none of them actually bowed or showed her any particular deference, and astonished that she should be thinking about it at all.

Daniel’s accusations had made her aware of things she had simply taken for granted.

She pointed out the Council chambers and the Hall of Justice, built in the Greek style with wide stairs and columned porch, and showed him the other government buildings, some adapted from the old, pre-Tanis days, others more recently constructed.

“Your Council is made up of Opiri, humans and half-bloods?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “They also serve as judges on those rare occasions when a citizen breaks the law beyond the scope of the Lawkeepers and must be evaluated.”

“No juries?” Daniel asked.

“Witnesses are called during the hearings,” she said. “All testimony is accepted.”

“But the Council makes the final decision.”

“An elected Council,” she said quickly. “All citizens have their vote.”

As they left the vicinity of the Hall, they passed a number of Lawkeeper patrols as well as a few guards who served in other capacities, and Daniel noted that none of them appeared to be human. Isis was compelled to admit that guards and Lawkeepers were by custom either half-bloods or Opiri. Daniel’s terse nod forced her to realize that the lack of humans in law enforcement would seem strange, even problematic to an outsider.

She had never even thought about it.

“That building, there,” Daniel said, indicating the featureless walls of a two-story structure at the far edge of the plaza. “What is that?”

Isis felt a strange reluctance to answer. “The blood depository,” she said. “It is where humans go to—”

“Contribute blood.” Daniel’s expression was neutral, but she felt the tension in him nonetheless.

“As I said before, no human is forced to do it,” she said.

“But this city would collapse if the human population refused.”

“They know that as well as you do,” Isis said, her words sharp with annoyance.

“They’d be compelled to donate in short order,” Daniel said, still staring at the building.

“That is why Tanis is built upon cooperation and sacrifice. Our citizens do not allow themselves to surrender to their instincts, no matter how powerful they may be.”

“That is reassuring.”

But his doubt was apparent, in spite of his attempts to hide it.

Isis was relieved when they caught a private shuttle that took them away from the clusters of multistory buildings and deep into the human sector, where older, lower buildings had once housed the Citadel’s many Freebloods, former Opiri vassals who had yet to establish a Household or claim a serf.

“And now Freebloods live in the towers with the ranked Opiri?” he asked.

“Most do,” she said reluctantly. “Though many chose to leave and seek their fortunes elsewhere when Tanis was established.”

“Rogues,” Daniel said. “No Citadel would take in Freebloods from another Citadel, and the only way they can live outside is by running in packs and ambushing free humans or raiding colonies.”

Isis knew she shouldn’t be surprised by his knowledge of Freebloods. He would have seen many in Vikos. But if he knew about the packs...

“Were you assaulted on your journey to Tanis?” she asked, trying to imagine Daniel fighting off a dozen rogues and escaping with his blood and his life.

“I was able to avoid most of them. But I saw them. I saw what they could do.”

“You said that you received help from humans hiding in the wilderness,” Isis said. “We know that there are a few colonies in this area and in the mountains to the west, small human settlements that move frequently if they feel threatened.”

“I stayed in one for a time. It was under nearly constant attack. People died.”

“I am sorry,” she said, meaning it. “We are also aware of colonies built upon the same principles Tanis follows, where both Opiri and human citizens are welcome.”

“Colonies, not cities,” Daniel said. “Before I was sent to Vikos, I heard of them. But it was said that they were no safer than the human settlements outside the Enclaves. Even if they managed to maintain their principles of coexistence, it wouldn’t mean much if they couldn’t defend themselves from the Citadels and rogue raiders.”

And was that, Isis wondered, why Daniel had come all the way to Tanis...to find a place that could defend itself and would still permit him to live in freedom?

She wanted...needed for him to see that Tanis was that place.

They left the central avenue and entered the maze of narrow streets between the residential buildings of Bes’s ward. The little Opir wasn’t there, and most of the human residents had gone to their jobs for the day. The older children were in school, while the younger ones stayed with one of their parents or a caretaker.

The buildings were neat and well-kept, with flower boxes on windowsills and decorations on doors and walls. The small neighborhood plaza was green with trees and grass, crisscrossed with well-tended paths. A few older humans congregated near a bench, gossiping among themselves. They grinned and shouted greetings to Isis, their eyes shining. She acknowledged them with a wave of her hand. A group of children walking with their teacher brought her a bunch of hand-picked flowers. Daniel looked on in silence.

As they turned the corner from one street onto another, a middle-aged man stepped up to speak to Isis, dipping his head in a gesture of respect. He told her of plumbing problems in his building, and Isis promised to see that Bes looked into the situation. Several other men and women approached with similar concerns, ranging from quarrels with neighbors to questions about the Council elections coming up in two months’ time. Again, Isis assured them that she would speak with Bes as soon as she was free.

One young mother emerged from her ground-floor residence to greet Isis, holding an infant in her arms. Joy flooded Isis’s heart, as it always did when she saw mother and child. Once humans had brought their children to her to be blessed, and mothers had prayed to her for the health of their families.

So very long ago.

The mother slipped the infant into Isis’s hands, and Isis kissed the boy’s soft, round cheek. Daniel gazed at her with a slight frown between his brows, as if he could not imagine her with a child in her keeping.

“Hold him,” she said, gently laying the infant in Daniel’s arms.

He held the child awkwardly; not as if he had never done so before, but with an almost excessive caution, as if he didn’t trust himself to do it properly. After a moment he returned the infant to its mother with a nod and a half smile.

“Thank you, Lady Isis,” the woman said, backing up a few steps before returning to her apartment. Daniel stared after her.

“The boy’s eyes,” he said. “He’s a half-blood. His father was Opir.”

“The child’s a dhampir, yes. Did I not tell you that we have mixed couples in Tanis? Not as many as I would wish, perhaps, but it is a new beginning.”

“Have you ever had a child, Isis?”

She was too surprised to be angry over the impertinent question. “You know it is possible?” she asked.

“I learned in the Citadel that Opir women could give birth in a mating with a male human. It was kept secret because no Opiri wanted to admit that a female of their kind could have a child by a serf.”

“Then you know the origins of the Darketans.”

“Humans call Darketans ‘Daysiders.’” He looked keenly into her eyes. “Unless you spent all your time since the War wandering in the wilderness, you know that the Citadels take them from their mothers when they are hardly more than infants and treat them little better than serfs, even though they rely on them to do their daytime spying in the zones around the Citadels.”

“We do not do that here,” she said. “Our Darketans come to Tanis to live full lives as equals. And female Opiri in Tanis can choose to have children by human males if they wish. There’s no shame attached.”

“And how often has it happened?”

A sharp pain struck Isis’s heart as she spoke. Yes, she could have borne a child, if she had ever found a male human for whom she could care deeply enough. But she had never sought one out. It had always been her work to nurture others, and bearing a child would bend her attention away from those who most needed her.

“It’s ironic that the Citadels never objected to the wartime practice of Opiri males forcibly impregnating human females,” Daniel said.

Ironic, Isis thought. Hypocrisy. She was hardly proud of what Opiri had done during the War, even though she had never been part of it.

But Daniel’s voice had hardened, and she wondered why the subject seemed so personal to him. He claimed he didn’t hate Opiri, but his words suggested otherwise.

“Why did you wish to know if I’d ever given birth?” she asked, quickly changing the subject.

“It seems as if it would be natural for you.”

She relaxed. “Is that a compliment?” she asked.

“It’s clear that you would love your children, as all these people seem to love you.”

Her mind flew directly to his accusation that she used her power to influence others. Isis was tempted to end the tour there, even though Daniel had hardly seen any of the city. But he was already walking on, his gaze quick and probing as he looked up and down the streets.

She caught up with him. “What is it you wish to see?” she asked.

“Another neighborhood,” he said. He paused by the small Lawkeeper station situated at the northern border of Bes’s ward.

“What is this?” he asked.

“There is a Lawkeeper station set up at every border between wards,” she said, feeling once again as if she had to justify Tanis’s laws. “We find these to be practical locations, and they can easily be found by any citizen.”

“Then they aren’t meant to hinder movement between wards?”

“Of course not! Any citizen may visit any part of the city.”

“And are stations located in the Opir wards as well as the human ones?”

“Naturally,” she said, “though the stations are located at the base of every tower except the one inhabited by the Nine.”

He seemed satisfied with the answer, and they continued past the guard station into the next ward.

It was overseen by Hera, who, Isis knew, very seldom visited her people. Isis rarely came here herself, and almost at once she noticed that something was not quite right. There was refuse in the streets, and no planters of flowers and greenery near the doors. Even the buildings themselves were in less than optimal condition, seamed with cracks and even a few broken windows.

Daniel was staring at one of the buildings, his face expressionless. “Is this one of your bad neighborhoods?” he asked.

“There is no such thing in Tanis,” Isis said, struggling to conceal her shock. “Every citizen receives the credits he or she requires to live comfortably, though work beyond the basic requirements can be used for nonessential goods.”

“It looks like someone forgot to give these people their share of the common wealth.”

Isis was appalled. Hera should never have let things come to such a state. She was the advocate here. Even though she kept her distance from humans, there was no excuse for her failing to care for her charges.

“I will speak to her at once,” Isis said.

“Speak to whom?” Daniel said, a grim set to his mouth.

“The sponsor who looks after this ward.”

“And who is that?”

Isis was very reluctant to name names, but she could not bring herself to withhold the information. “Hera,” she said. “Clearly, she has been neglecting—”

“Hera, Isis, Ishtar,” Daniel said, his forehead creased in thought. “Who are the others?”

A human boy appeared on the street, a boy of an age where he would soon move from the schoolroom to his chosen work. His clothes were slightly worn and ill-fitting, and when he saw Isis he stopped suddenly and stared as if she were taking Daniel’s blood right in front of him. His expression grew pinched, and he quickly disappeared around the corner of the nearest cross street. Other humans, some older, gathered nearby and gave Isis the same sullen, almost unfriendly stare. Many of them wore Hera’s peacock sigil somewhere on their shirts, though they clearly had no reason to thank her for their current circumstances.

One of the larger males moved toward Isis, and Daniel stepped between her and the human. He stared the man down, and he retreated, followed by the others.

Isis touched Daniel’s arm and led him back toward Bes’s ward. Daniel’s muscles were taut as if he wanted to resist her, perhaps even return and speak to the angry humans.

Hera, Isis thought, what have you done?

This would have to be brought to the Nine’s notice, regardless of Hera’s likely animosity. The others would see that she did not fail in her duty again.

But that would not erase Isis’s memory of the looks those poor people had given her. She could not remember the last time a human being had shown her even the slightest hostility.

“Why did they stare at you like that?” Daniel asked, echoing her thoughts.

Isis latched on to the first safe explanation that came to mind. “It is nearly time for the Games,” she said.

“The Games?”

“Twice a year the human wards hold competitions,” she said. “Did you notice the badges on some of the humans’ shirts and uniforms?”

“I noticed them. Peacocks.”

“Hera’s symbol. When the Games are near, many humans wear the emblems of the Elders to represent their teams.”

“Only humans?”

Isis glanced away. “There was a time when Opiri participated, competing among themselves. Now they only observe.”

“What kinds of competitions?” he asked.

“Racing, jumping, older games that humans remember from before the War.”

“No fighting? Wrestling, boxing, martial arts?”

“No!” She stared at him. “We do not condone violence.”

“Then those people were hostile toward you just because you represent an opposing team?”

“I have no team in the Games.”

“So you didn’t anticipate their attitude. You don’t understand it.”

His challenges came too thick and fast, and she answered carelessly. “It makes no sense to me. Unless they are angry with Hera, and project that anger onto—”

“Isis!”

She snapped out of her thoughts to find Bes gazing up at her and Daniel, a grin on his perpetually pleasant face.

“And who is this?” he asked, staring up at Daniel. “The man who entered Tanis so clandestinely? The dangerous invader?” He shivered dramatically. “Are you quite sure it’s safe to let such a monster run around loose, my dear Isis?”

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