"That's what we were discussing when you made that most dramatic entrance," replied Voss with a lazy smile. "I know Cezar well enough, but since you know him best of all, perhaps you might have a suggestion. He promises to call off the emperor's invasion if you return to him."
Narcise shook her head, her thoughts whirling. Go back? Go back to Cezar? Never. But her heart was pounding and her stomach twisted nauseatingly. France's invasion didn't really matter to her-or to any Dracule-insofar as power was concerned.
But there were vampirs involved, and Cezar would ensure that there would be children as victims...as well as others. Children. If she agreed to go back, they'd be saved. She did believe Cezar would keep his word about that. He'd done so in the past, for he knew therein lay his power over her.
But to go back... She shuddered. No.
"I'll go to Paris," Chas said flatly. "I can get in to see him-"
"No, Chas," Maia interrupted. "It's too dangerous."
"Be still, Maia," her brother snapped, and received a warning glare from Dimitri.
"And you attempting to kill Moldavi wouldn't necessarily stop Napoleon," Voss added. "Although-"
"Attempting to kill him?" Chas echoed. His voice was sharp. "A poor choice of word-"
"Cezar could stop him if he wanted," Narcise said slowly. "He's got the new emperor under his thrall."
"It does seem more than a bit convenient that Bonaparte has been sitting for months with his army ready to cross the Channel at any moment...and now Moldavi claims he will invade at last," Dimitri mused. "I'm inclined to believe that your brother," he said, looking at Narcise, "is indeed behind all of this."
"And if he's influencing Bonaparte to invade, then he can stop him as well," Narcise said. And her Mark panged sharply...because she was thinking about what it would be like to return to Cezar. To put herself back under his control.
A little shiver caught her by surprise-a ripple of fear and trepidation-but then she remembered Sonia's vision. I'm his greatest fear. How can that be? And how could I use that?
It made her stronger. She could go to Cezar knowing that. And if he feared her, then it gave her the chance to destroy him.
If it were on her terms...
Narcise's heart began to pound harder. Could she actually go back there? She remembered the comforting feel of the saber...the way Cezar's eyes lit on her, with both delight and hate.
Another shiver started in her belly. It could be true. She could be his greatest fear.
"You aren't considering going," Chas said, breaking the silence. "Narcise." His voice was strung tightly and she saw the fear in his eyes.
But it was the weight of Giordan's stare that she felt the most. Heavy, silent, dark...resting on her like a boulder.
"He fears me," she said, thinking aloud. "He fears me more than anything in the world."
The twinge that had begun to inflame her shoulder eased a bit more. She had power.
"But how will that help you?" Chas said, his voice low, as if he were fighting to keep it so. "Once you're back there with him, you're under his control. In that place. He's got damned feathers everywhere, Narcise."
"There's something else," Maia Woodmore said quietly. "Maia, no," Dimitri said, his voice like a whip. "I forbid you."
She looked up at him, a steely but determined expression on her face, and lifted her chin. "You would want to know."
He glared at her with his mortal eyes, the burning no longer an actual glow, but no less furious. "Maia. You don't understand."
"Allow me," Giordan spoke again. He shifted in his chair, dragging Narcise's gaze toward him. His movements were so studied and casual that their easiness seemed forced. "I suspect Narcise isn't the only one Moldavi wants returned."
Dimitri made a soft, sharp curse under his breath and turned to look at his friend. "Naturally," he admitted.
"Just to clarify," Maia broke in with her imperious voice, "Moldavi promises to stop the invasion if Narcise or Mr. Cale returns to him. He doesn't specifically require both-"
"I'll go."
Narcise's breath caught at the blank expression that had settled over Giordan's face as he spoke. Like a mask. Empty, emotionless. She recognized him...and yet it wasn't truly him. His eyes...they appeared dead. And they were looking at her.
Her heart was thudding in her chest, but she wasn't certain why. The image of Cezar and Giordan rose once again in her mind and even the memory of the stew of smells around him came with it. Her belly lurched and she bit her lip, thrusting the thoughts away.
Dimitri started to say something, but Giordan's voice slashed out. "Don't be a fool. You haven't the means to stop me."
"Cale, certainly, there are other ways," Voss interjected. "Moldavi surely doesn't know about the change that's occurred with Dimitri and myself. We could accompany Woodmore and attend to Moldavi permanently."
"No," Narcise said softly. "No, I will have to go." Her Mark pulsed with anger and sharp pain, but she ignored it. "But you'll come after me. When it's safe. When I'm certain he's called off the invasion. You can-"
"Narcise," Chas began.
"Stop," she ordered, holding up her hand. "Have you forgotten? I'm a Dracule. I think only of myself. And in the end, this will serve me well. Knowing what I know about my brother now, I have more power than he realizes."
"But once you're inside there," Chas started again. "Narcise, you don't have any idea what will happen."
She fixed her gaze on him. "He won't kill me. And I can live through anything else." But at least the children will be saved. And the war would be stopped.
And maybe it wasn't only about her anymore.
Chapter 19
"You aren't truly going," Chas said, stopping her in the corridor at Rubey's several hours after the discussion in the parlor. "Narcise." He wore a tight, strained expression.
"Of course I'm going," she replied, echoing his own response to her same question from months ago. Unlike him, she hadn't even needed to pack a bag. "He's my brother." Again, she repeated his response.
"Narcise, I- Forgive me for not wanting to tell you about...this. I was afraid that exactly this would happen. That you would go back to him...put yourself at risk." He reached for her hand, drawing her closer. "But I shouldn't have lied to you. I was wrong to-"
"You were wrong twice," she reminded him, but didn't pull her hand away. She needed the comfort of touch right now. "You don't trust me, and you don't believe I can take care of myself. You want to control me, just as Cezar did."