Even above his own desires, he wanted that the most, for her. While he would, in fact, take her to the ends of the Earth to protect her from this group or any other, not only did he not want her to be a fugitive again, he wasn’t sure she had the mental strength left to be one.

“Thank you.” Lord Uthe nodded after a quiet moment. “I admit, I’m surprised you would capitulate to such a directive, given your adversarial stands against this Council in the past.”

“I doubt you will ever find me very accommodating,” Mason observed dryly, and noted he won some small smiles from the Council. Even Belizar’s lips twitched. “But there is one thing that our esteemed Lady Lyssa helped me understand, though I perhaps was not as quick to understand it as the more astute minds on this Council. Every man or vampire should make an effort to obey the law, even when they disagree with it. Resistance should be reserved for things that strike at the very core of who we are.

This is about a human. While I believe a grave injustice was done to her, and that she deserves to be pardoned, she is still just a human.”

He paused, watching them exchange glances. The knot of Raithe supporters positioned on the left side of the room was shifting like a hive of bees about to erupt, but he knew they would stay in that tight knot as long as Belizar held sway here.

Mason thought of Jessica, crumpled on the sand, the tide bathing her legs as she wept. The fears that chased her waking moments as well as her dreams. Her wry smile, her slim hands moving capably over Hasna’s mane as she braided it. Her unexpected burst of laughter as they raced over the sand on Coman’s back, the clutch of her hand on his leg, the gasp of exhilarated breath.

He swept his attention over the Council once more. “But for the benefit of our species, I beg your consideration of one last point.

We’ve devoted much time to the fate of one servant. I think it would be wise to give equal, if not more, time to improving our laws, making it illegal to force a human into the role of full servant. While I feel the punishment for breaking that law should be as proportionately harsh as the trouble it can cause, at the very least, the human should not have to pay for the vampire’s folly, any more than she already has.”

At the uncomfortable silence, the sharp looks from Helena and Mortimer, Mason wondered if he’d pushed it too far. But Belizar merely inclined his head. “We thank you for your time, Lord Mason. The Council will now clear the chamber to deliberate this matter.”

Mason bowed. “I look forward to the Council’s decision.”

Since the Berlin site for Council operations was an ancient castle, he strolled along the parapets, desperate for the fog and cool night air after the stifling environment of the Council chambers. Bracing his palms on the stone, he gazed out over the lighted town nearby. He thought about using the cell phone again, only this time to call and speak to Jessica directly. He’d had to resist the urge to do so numerous times since he’d left, and now he wondered why he had. Why shouldn’t he call her?

Because it was weak, and unfair to her. He knew that. Sighing, he looked down the steep wall to the clumps of shrubs below. The more he reached out to her, the more likely it was he wouldn’t let her go, that he would be no better than Raithe in that regard.

What would she say, if he had her on the phone? Would she tell him what she’d been doing or be terse and quiet, since the last time she’d seen him he’d thrown her out of his room, aching and unsatisfied? Of course, she’d told Amara she missed him.

He should get her a gift while he was here. He didn’t know if she liked jewelry, but he knew she appreciated beauty. No, something that appealed to her interests. Perhaps a book on the archaeology of this region. That would be good.

“Why do you defend her?”

There were humans and vampires moving within and without the castle, so he’d paid only peripheral attention to them. Obviously, he needed to sharpen his senses, if he’d let this son of a sway-backed camel creep up on him. Turning to face Trenton, he saw four of his companions were with him, hostility emanating from them. A desire for violence.

All Mason’s intentions to remain even-tempered shattered as Trenton’s green eyes narrowed, for in that moment Mason remembered why he seemed familiar. He’d seen him in Jessica’s nightmares.

Raithe had given her to Trenton when she was bloody with lash marks, so dehydrated and in pain she kept fainting. While the vampire fucked her, he’d slapped her awake, again and again, until he was done, until the blood from her nose had dripped on her breasts, painted her with crimson lines where he rutted upon her.

The images crowded in quickly now, making it clear that Trenton had been one of Raithe’s most devoted sycophants. He’d wagered on the dogs as Jessica fought them for food. Helped string her arms up in chains for the stable rape, stayed to watch.

After hours of aping civility in that damned hot chamber, everything was washed in red. Mason’s fangs lengthened in his mouth, preparing for this kill. He would tear flesh, immerse himself in the cleansing numbness of savagery on Jessica’s behalf. Did Trenton see something in his face? His cronies certainly did, because they were backing up.

You kill him here and now, and Jessica will never be safe. Never exonerated. She will be a fugitive forever.

There was no doubt this time that the voice that exploded in his head was Lyssa’s. He knew of no other vampire who could speak in another vampire’s mind with the sharpness of cut glass, slashing through brain matter like butter. He almost yelped.

You’re nine hundred, not a fledgling like these whelps. Control your reaction. Goddess, you need a sitter.

It was the command mixed with the exasperation that recalled him, that made him retract the fangs. Whatever happened here, Mason knew Trenton would disappear in the next month or so, never to be seen again. He’d make sure of it. While a dead vampire had to be investigated, little was done if one disappeared, for vampires were notorious for going to ground for long periods of time. Trenton was far too low on the food chain to merit a search party.

Mason didn’t miss the irony of that. Once, he’d been low on that food chain himself. He, of all vampires, knew how easy it was to become the victim among vampires. But he had no problem using that to his advantage now. That, too, was the nature of a vampire. Yesterday’s weakness was today’s strength. He’d learned patience the hard way, taking time to strike at the opportune moment.

He forced his lips to curve, showing the now retracted fangs, knowing the moonlight was catching the red glint in his eyes, though his voice came out remarkably mild. “I defend her because it’s the right thing to do. Humans cannot be underestimated.”

“They are weak, puny—”

“Insignificant against our all-powerful selves. Blah, blah, blah.” Mason shrugged. “Yet our human servants help us manage our bloodlust and blend into a world overrun by mortals. Abusing that relationship to the extent Raithe did is unwise. Use your mind to do your thinking, Trenton, not your hot blood. And remember you were once human yourself.” It was a deliberate insult to point to a made vampire’s humbler origins. Trenton whitened with fury. Looking at this pathetic gathering of Raithe’s offspring, Mason knew they hadn’t had the guidance and mentoring they should have. Raithe had likely turned them, taken their new, wildly fluctuating bloodlust and created sadistic monsters. While Mason might have felt pity, they’d had a choice. Unlike a human being taken as a servant, vampire law said a human had to give his or her consent to be turned, and only after the Council approved the action.

The boy was stupider than most made vampires. He snarled and lunged forward. Mason couldn’t be happier as he leaped to meet him.

The others closed in, but he’d already caught Trenton by the throat and slammed him against a stone turret, so hard the rock crumbled beneath the impact. The others came to a stumbling halt and spun around, realizing he’d passed them by and now had their ringleader pinned against stone twenty feet behind them.

“Stay back,” he hissed. “In the time it takes you to think about crossing the ground between us, I will have killed every last one of you.”

“My lord Raithe deserved better,” Trenton rasped over Mason’s hold, his eyes burning.

“Your lord Raithe deserved far worse, and the lot of you with him. You’ve lost your meal ticket. An older vampire has already taken over his properties and thrown you out.” Mason bared his fangs as Trenton scowled darkly. “That’s the true reason most of you are here, hoping to get scraps from another table. Figuring I’ll buy you off to support my position. You severely overestimate your own value, and underestimate the Council’s wisdom. Go ingratiate yourself with another rich fool.” But those words were directed to the angry vampires behind him. Now Mason brought his face close enough to Trenton’s that he could see death in his eyes, the gleam on Mason’s fangs. As the young vampire hissed, frightened and trying to wriggle free, Mason held him effortlessly, dropping his tone so only the boy could hear him. “For you, Trenton, that’s a wasted effort. Enjoy the short life you have left.”

He dropped him then. Trenton thudded to the stone, but rolled and scrambled past him, back into the ranks of his friends. As Mason turned, he wished they’d rush him so he’d have a reason to kill. But they didn’t. There were a few mutters and grumbles, some foul glances, but then he was alone again beside the parapet. And still wishing he had the courage to call Jessica on the phone, like some idiot teenager.

“Ah, damn it.” He retrieved the phone, furrowed his brow, then figured out how to call back the last number.

“How did it go?”

He bit off a sigh. “I hate cell phones.”

Lyssa’s voice was amused. “You didn’t mean to call me?”

“No. I meant to call last number received, not dialed.”

“Well, since you’re here . . . ?” She paused.

“Thank you,” he said, grudgingly. “Some of Raithe’s young whelps followed me out to the castle walk. I didn’t throw them off. Ah, bollocks. I should have thought of that. It wouldn’t have killed them, but it would have been satisfyingly painful.”