Damn it, he wished Lyssa was at his side. Of course, last time she was here, she’d threatened to kill them all, including him, a prime example of “Do as I say, not as I do.” Holding that reassuring and amusing thought, he stepped into the chamber.

21

TWO hours later, he decided there was no virtue in restraint. Unless by restraint, one meant applying shackles, followed by a great deal of bludgeoning.

The most outspoken of the vampires Raithe had sired was Trenton. The youthful vampire was vaguely familiar to Mason, though he’d not yet placed him. He was backed by a handful of cohorts with expressions of smirking contempt behind an aura of righteous indignation. As Trenton rebutted Mason’s comments, or responded to Council inquiries, their burning eyes fixed upon Mason, tips of fangs showing in an aggressive way that revealed their immaturity. Probably not one of them, including Trenton, was more than sixty years old, but given the gravity of the matter, their plea wouldn’t be summarily brushed aside.

Keeping his gaze off Raithe’s proponents as much as possible, Mason explained in an even tone the details of her kidnapping, the death of her fiancé, the faking of her death for the local papers, Raithe’s threat on her family. None of those was technically against vampire law, but all were considered serious lapses of judgment, due to the hazards of exposure they presented for their kind to human society.

Uthe, as well as the two less conservative Council members, reacted as Lyssa had, with distasteful shock. Belizar’s expression remained unreadable, as expected. He was leader of the Council for a reason, and would give nothing away. Lady Helena was not so circumspect.

“It is an unfortunate occurrence, Lord Mason. But no matter the circumstances, the law is very clear about a human servant who takes a vampire’s life.”

“Yet it is such an unlikely scenario, it’s a wonder we have a law about it at all, rather than dealing with it case by case,” he pointed out. “In our documented history, we have had four instances of it. In every instance, the servant in question was forced into servitude, and suffered extremes of brutality from the vampire. Out of those four, three were third-marks who died with their Master or Mistress, so there was no one left to punish. Jessica Tyson is the only servant to ever survive killing her Master.”

“As such, she could become an inspiration for those second-marked or even suicidal third-marked servants who harbor similar desires.” That from Lord Mortimer.

Mason lifted a shoulder, making sure his attention passed over each face on the Council with equal gravity and appeal. “I like to believe, as I hope you do, that our relationship with our servants is symbiotic. Most servants who will hear of your decision have no desire to leave their Master or Mistress’s service, because it was their choice. They have not been subjected to what Raithe did to Jessica Tyson.”

He then relayed a select few of those atrocities. In preparation for this meeting, he’d had to sift through those visions, pick the ones he knew would have most influence on this group. It had enraged him, the idea that one type of fear and agony would be weighted more highly than another. That anger resurged now as he showed them the skinning as punishment. The repeated rapes and humiliations. The dark dungeon with the rats and spiders. The group in his peripheral vision stirred with irritation, but he kept his gaze locked on Belizar, reminding himself of Lyssa’s words. No emotion.

Lady Helena blinked. He noted it when she swallowed, a sign of discomfort. Uthe shook his head, anger crossing his gaze. While Council usually met without their servants present, Mason knew they all enjoyed close relationships with them, as he did with Enrique and Amara. He couched his explanation of the torments in those terms, suggesting the Council imagine their own servants being so treated. When there was a muttering from Trenton and his companions, Belizar cut a sharp glance at them.

“Our right to exert our will over a human servant who has bound his or her life to ours is unquestionable,” Mason continued. “They are ours to do with as we wish, but we are guided by the symbiosis I mentioned, that deep connection. As such, we are all familiar with the human mind. A mortal cannot be pushed to the point of unbearable pain and despair, and not be expected to attempt escape. That is what Jessica Tyson did. She didn’t act out of retaliation, but the desire to get away from Raithe. Because, as we all know, the only way for a servant to escape her Master is to kill him.

“Most vampires want a strong connection with their servants. When it doesn’t occur, frustration can escalate to brutality, particularly if the human is taken unwillingly, or without a reasonable comprehension of the role. While I am pleased to hear that Lord Brian is working on a way to reverse the marks chemically for these infrequent instances, it is no substitute for a vampire using good judgment.”

His tone hardened. This time he cut a deliberate glance toward Trenton. “Raithe exercised deplorable judgment, and continued to compound the problem. Even had Brian’s solution existed, Raithe would not have availed himself of it, because he allowed himself to be guided by the baser, more savage instincts we all possess.”

It flashed through his mind again, those terrible days after Farida’s death. He’d kept them safely locked away for years now, but since Jessica had come into his life, many of them had started to break free. Blood. Screams. Death.

Focus. He could almost hear the snap of Lyssa’s voice, and given her uncharted range of powers, he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t her.

Rising from his chair, Mason moved to the center of the room, meeting Belizar’s eyes for a long moment and then briefly traveling over the Council members again. He ignored Trenton and his group now, the way he’d disregard children playing around the feet of their parents. “When we claim a position of superiority over another species, we must always remember the baser instinct we, as vampires, possess. Many atrocities can be rationalized and justified. We enjoy the power we exert over our servants, and, in truth, it’s a mutual pleasure. But for some vampires it becomes a destructive desire, to see how far that power extends. They take the relationship into darker realms that do not bode well for our anonymity. There must always be limits on our behavior. It is the only way we live together in a crowded world.”

“So you want to turn the girl loose?” Helena’s brows rose. “Her crime against her Master aside, it’s dangerous for a marked servant to be loosed from our world, unsupervised.”

Mason cocked his head. “This girl wants simply to be left alone, reconstruct whatever life for herself she can. Do we not owe her that?”

“We owe her nothing,” Trenton snapped. “That human bitch killed Lord Raithe.” Mason wondered if Lyssa would be proud of him, the fact he stood motionless, ignoring the young whelp as if he hadn’t spoken.

Instead, it was Belizar who surged up from his chair, his lip curling back in a snarl.

“You will not speak out of turn here.” His voice reverberated through the chamber, so thunderously it vibrated through the floor.

“Do so again, and I will have you buried in the earth for a week.”

For the first time, Mason was glad for the attack on his home that had destroyed his west wing and his landscaping. The vampire hunters had been used as a tool by a faction of mostly made vampires seeking to overthrow the Council at that gathering. Since then, the Council had demonstrated an extremely short fuse for disrespect of any kind, particularly from made vampires.

Trenton subsided with a sullen look. When the Russian vampire turned his attention back to Mason, his eyes still glinted with a hint of red. As Brian had said, the façade of civility was useful only when everyone wished to play nice. Mason wasn’t sorry for it right now.

“Lord Mason, do you have anything else?”

“One more thing.” Mason met Belizar’s gaze, held it, knowing he was the one vampire who had to believe his next words for him to have a chance of winning Jessica’s case. “I give my personal guarantee to Council that pardoning Jessica Tyson will not adversely affect our society.” He paused. “If the Council will not pardon her to seek the life she wishes, forbidding any repercussions against her from our society, then I ask they allow me to keep her as my third-marked servant, living under my guardianship.” Once everything died down, he could set her up somewhere, doing whatever it was she liked. He’d buy a mansion wherever that was, and that could be her home. She’d never need to see him, but to all appearances, she’d be living as his servant. Time would pass, things would change, and she’d be all right. Eventually he would go back to his desert, his hole, as Lyssa said. After all, Amara and Enrique stayed in South America for months at a time without him, while he drew blood from the occasional oblivious Bedouin traveler who crossed his path.

It all sounded very reasonable. Except the idea of leaving Jessica alone like that didn’t sit well with him at all. It was a passing feeling, he told himself. As she did better on her own, he would be bothered less by the idea.

“If Brian perfects his serum”—Lord Uthe pinned Mason with his shrewd gaze, bringing his attention back—“and finds a way to erase her memory of her time in our world, will you accept that, and allow us to handle her placement?”

“I will accept the administering of the serum, with her knowledge, but I will help with her placement. She is under my protection.

That cannot change.”

Damn Lord Uthe for being as smart and well informed as he was. But as he held the other male’s gaze, Mason reminded himself that Lyssa had said this Council member would be his greatest ally, if he dealt with him fairly. The silence stretched out as he sensed each Council member mulling over his words.

“Lord Mason, if we disagree with you, and wish the girl brought here for justice, how will you react?” This from Belizar, asking the one thing that would expose where Mason’s true loyalties lay. The Council looked toward him expectantly. Your feelings for the girl have no place here . . . Lyssa’s words resounded in his head.

“I’d of course bring her here,” he lied, “according to the Council’s wishes, though I would continue to argue for a merciful judgment. We are not a compassionate species, but I believe we are a fair one. Do not rule against her, my lords and ladies. Let her live in peace. That is all she wants.”