a good argument.” She grabbed her wrap from the tree branch where she’d hung it and threw it over her shoulders. “Rest in peace, Cato Petrovic.”
She’d walked halfway to Fifth Avenue when a man stepped out from among the trees along the path and gestured to her frantically. She paused as she recognized his face, pursed her lips and went to join him.
“Elisha Hatch,” she said. “I didn’t think you’d be here.”
The human looked right and left, his nervousness palpable. “I watched,” he said. “Cato was my friend, too.”
Friend? Perhaps, Allie reflected. But Elisha had primarily been Cato’s laboratory assistant, the one human her mentor had trusted to help him in his mysterious work. He remindedAllie too much of a mouse…or more likely a rat, with his beady eyes and furtive movements. Not every human could live comfortably among vampires.
“What is it?” she asked, eager to be gone.
He rubbed his arms repeatedly, though the night was warm. The tattoos on the back of his right hand jumped and quivered. “Did Cato…did he give you anything before he died?”
The question caught her unawares. “What do you mean?”
“There was something…something he was supposed to leave to me if anything happened to him. It’s missing. I thought you might have it.”
Allie narrowed her eyes. “If something happened to him?”
Elisha risked a glance at her face. “The old weakness, you know.”
Just as Raoul had claimed, but Allie was far from satisfied. “Was he in some kind of danger?”
“No, no. Nothing like that.”
“And what was he supposed to give you?”
Once again Elisha looked carefully about them. “Papers,” he said. “Notes from his research. He didn’t want them to be misplaced if he…if he couldn’t work on them anymore. He knew I was the only one who could understand them.”
Allie weighed his answer. It seemed reasonable enough. “Why do you think he would have given them to me?”
Elisha shifted from foot to foot. “Maybe he thought they’d be safe with you.”
“Safe from what?”
But Elisha had scarcely begun a hesitant reply when he saw something that shut him up fast. He melted back into the trees, leaving Allie to wait alone for Raoul.
The Master glanced toward the trees as Allie returned to the path. “Talking to someone?” he asked.
“I thought I saw an intruder hanging around.”
“And did you?”
“I must have imagined it.”
Raoul regarded her with a half smile. “Your imagination is as troublesome as your impertinence, Allegra.”
“Impertinence? Is that what they call it?” She began to walk, and Raoul fell into step beside her, his shoes soundless on the path.
“Impertinence,” he said. “Rashness. Foolhardy defiance.”
Allie yawned behind her hand. “Glad I made an impression.”
“Oh, you most certainly did.” He moved almost imperceptibly, and suddenly he was in front of her, walking backward with casual ease. “I had hoped you would stay for a little chat.”
“I don’t think there’s anything to talk about, Raoul. Not anything we haven’t discussed before.”
Raoul’s handsome, ageless face altered before Allie’s eyes, becoming more animal than human. “I’m not satisfied with the outcome of our discussion.”
“I guess even the great Master will have to get used to the occasional disappointment.”
With a flash of white teeth, Raoul came to a stop. Allie caught herself in midstride. They stood face-toface, inches apart, gazes locked.
“I think not,” Raoul said. “I’ve ruled the clan for thirty years. I have no intention of allowing a rogue protégée to foster anarchy and disrupt the organization I’ve built here.”
“I’m not a protégée any longer, Raoul.”
He leaned closer, bathing her face with his breath. “You will submit. There is no other way for you.”
“I know the law as well as you. No one, not even the Master, can compel me to accept a new patron once I’m free.”
“Free to spend your nights among humans.”
“With anyone who doesn’t think that the last good hooch was distilled during the Roman Empire.”
“Does that include dogs?”
She remembered Bendik and his threats. “So what if it does?”
For a moment his eyes glinted red, and his body seemed to lift off the ground. Then he relaxed, the muscles under his perfectly fitted suit smoothing out with supple grace.
“You’re afraid, Allie,” he said. “There is no need for fear. If you give yourself to me, I will care for you. You’ll want for nothing. You will belong.”
Allie gazed into his eyes, feeling his power like hot, fresh blood flowing over her tongue. It would be so easy to agree. One bite, and she would be bound to Raoul as she had been to Cato…his offspring, his student, his property. She would be part of the strigoi hierarchy in which every member knew his or her place, virtually incapable of challenging the Master’s control. No need to make decisions or worry about spending the long centuries alone. No need for anything but obedience…
She shook her head, casting off Raoul’s subtle influence. “Nice try,” she said. “But I’m not likely to want for anything with the money Cato left me. And by clan law you can’t touch it, as long as I pay the settlement.”
“You think that’s enough?” He grabbed her arm and tightened his grip until she felt her pulse pound beneath her skin. “You’ll never leave this city or rise from your lowly rank.You won’t ever be permitted to create your own protégés, Allegra…not if you live a thousand years.”
Allie pulled his hand away. “You think that’s the ultimate ambition of everyone like us? To make more? It may be the only way to gain status in the clan, but I don’t care. Get it? I don’t care.”
She pushed past him and continued toward Fifth Avenue, bracing herself for another assault. But Raoul didn’t follow. That didn’t mean he’d given up, not by a long shot. She would have to keep fending him off until he got the message, even if it took the rest of the century to do it. Of course, there was always the possibility that he would resort to illegal force, but that was a chance she was willing to take.
And how far are you willing to go, Allie? She slowed her angry stride, her thoughts returning to the strange encounter earlier that evening. Funny that she was still thinking of Griffin Durant. She should have been able to put him out of her mind easily enough; she’d spoken no less than the truth when she’d told him that he wouldn’t want to know her. She’d done the right thing by implying that she was still blood-bound. One look at Griffin Durant and anyone would realize he was the old-fashioned type, still clinging to his Victorian morals, chivalrous to the core.
The problem was that she’d taken more than one look, and he had somehow become imprinted on her mind. There was no doubt he was handsome, and not in the pretty-boy way of so many among the pampered rich set. His slightly wavy dark brown hair tumbled over his forehead as if he hadn’t the patience to slick it down into the usual style. He had a small scar on his chin. His wolf-yellow eyes had been haunted with some past suffering.
He was the right age to have served in theWar, and that would explain a great deal. Allie couldn’t imagine that many werewolves had volunteered to fight. Certainly