It was happening far too frequently.

“Don’t presume to judge me.” His words were coated in ice. “My hungers are instinct, not a perversion of nature like some I could name.”

Dolf snorted, indifferent to Gaius’s disdain. “Hell, I don’t care if you drain every whore from here to Timbuktu, but the locals are starting to get itchy about the girls who’ve gone missing. Unless you want an angry mob, complete with torches and pitchforks, on our doorstep, you might want to dial back on your feedings.” He paced to study the books that lined the shelves. “Or at least import your meals from farther away.”

Gaius narrowed his gaze. “Is there a reason you’ve intruded into my privacy?”

There was a long silence, as if Dolf was considering his words. Never a good thing. Then slowly he turned to meet Gaius’s rigid expression. “Do you think it’s odd we haven’t heard from the master?”

Gaius hissed. The question had, of course, been nagging at the edge of his mind. But he was smart enough to know it was too dangerous to speak aloud.

“She will contact us when she needs our services,” he said stiffly.

“Are you so certain?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Dolf ’s humorless laugh echoed through the silent house. “Our last mission was yet another epic failure.”

Gaius shrugged. “The wizard was to blame for bringing the Hunter and Sylvermyst into the master’s lair. It wasn’t our fault.”

Dolf shuddered, still obviously traumatized by their time spent in the master’s company. “Yeah, well, the wizard is dead and the Dark Lord is still trapped,” the cur unnecessarily pointed out. “She might have decided to spread the blame around.”

“We would know if she’d decided to punish us for the latest disaster,” Gaius said with a grimace. “She’s never subtle.”

Dolf nodded, but his brow remained furrowed. “If you say.”

Gaius rolled his eyes. He could send the cur away, but Dolf would only return until he’d said whatever was on his tiny mind. “Now what’s bothering you?”

The cur hunched his shoulders. “To be honest, I preferred the thought that we’re being punished.”

Gaius frowned. “As opposed to what?”

“Have you considered the possibility that the Dark Lord hasn’t contacted us because . . .”

His words trailed away and Gaius made a sound of impatience. “Cristo, just say it.”

“Because she can’t.”

Gaius cursed, instinctively glancing around the seemingly empty room. Even if the Dark Lord was trapped in another dimension, he—or rather she—had spies everywhere.

“You are a fool,” he hissed.

“Perhaps, but I would be even more of a fool to spend the next century waiting in this godforsaken swamp for a master who has already lost the war,” Dolf grimly pressed, too far gone in his growing madness to consider the danger.

“What do you suggest?” Gaius asked, the ice in his voice warning he wouldn’t be coaxed into an indiscretion. His growing doubts would go with him to the grave. “That we abandon the Dark Lord and pray she doesn’t manage to escape her prison?”

Without warning, the nearest bookshelf slid outward to reveal a hidden passageway.

Gaius tensed in shock, his fangs lengthening in preparation for an attack. Instead, Sally stepped into the room, her hair hanging around her face, which was amazingly devoid of her ridiculous black makeup, and her slender body covered by a flannel nightgown.

She looked like a child. As long as you didn’t look into the eyes, which were glowing with a crimson fire.

“Yes, Dolf, please enlighten me on how you intend to betray me?”

The cur fell to his knees, his head pressed to the floor at the sudden blast of power that had nothing to do with Sally and everything to do with the Dark Lord. “Mistress.”

Sally moved forward, her expression slack as she was piloted by the evil deity to stand directly next to the cringing cur. “I have made allowances for you because you are young and impetuous, but my patience has run its course.” The voice was female, but not Sally’s.

“No, please,” Dolf whined, the stench of his fear filling the air. “I swear I will never again question your powers.”

“No, you will not.”

Leaning down, Sally placed her hand on the back of Dolf ’s head, her touch almost gentle. But even as the cur’s violent shudders began to ease, a dark mist formed around his body.

At first nothing happened and Gaius wondered if it was simply a spell to keep him trapped on the floor. Then, instinctively, Gaius stepped back, watching in horror as the blackness began to boil and churn, consuming Dolf ’s body with a silent swiftness.

There was no other way to explain it. Wherever the mist touched Dolf, his body just . . . vanished. There was no sound, no scent, no sense of anything but death claiming its latest trophy.

A ball of dread lodged in the pit of his stomach.

What the hell?

Sally was only supposed to be a conduit for the Dark Lord, but it was obvious she was able to call on some hefty magic. The thought should have been reassuring. It surely meant that the Dark Lord still maintained a large portion of her powers and was capable of returning Dara from the grave.

Instead, Gaius could only watch Dolf being efficiently destroyed and wonder if the cur had been given the preferable fate.

It was the distant howls of Ingrid who had been driven to her wolf form as she sensed the loss of her brother that at last snapped Gaius out of his dangerous sense of unreality.

Lifting his head, he found Sally regarding him with those eyes that burned with crimson fire.

“A shame, but he had outlived his usefulness.” Stepping over Dolf ’s disintegrating body, Sally walked to stand directly in front of Gaius. “What of you?”

Gaius swiftly bowed. “I am yours to command.”

“So I have your loyalty?”

“Without question.”

“And what of your faith?”

Gaius warily straightened, praying the creature was incapable of reading his mind. “My faith?”

“It’s simple, vampire.” She reached to run a nail down his cheek. “Do you still believe we can achieve your glorious future together?”

Gaius suppressed his shudder, holding himself motionless beneath her light touch. No use provoking the crazy creature. “Of course.”

“Hmmm.” The nail dug deep enough to draw blood. “Not the ringing endorsement I might have hoped for from one of my most devoted disciples.”

Gaius desperately sought a distraction. “What would you have of me?”

The crimson eyes narrowed before she dropped her hand and stepped back. “I need you to travel to Chicago.”

“Again?” Caught off guard, Gaius spoke without thinking. “Did the prophet escape?”

The air hummed with a surge of power and Gaius silently cursed his stupid question. What the hell had happened to his frigid discipline?

“You agree with Dolf?” Sally asked in a lethally soft voice. “You suspect that I’m incompetent?”

“I . . . of course not.”

“But you suspect I’m incapable of holding on to my prisoners?”

“No.” Gaius sought to minimize the danger. “I was just curious why you would want me to return to Chicago.”

The punishing pressure eased, although the crimson gaze regarded him with an unwavering intensity that warned his brush with death was far from over.

“The child I need is being held there.”

Child? There was only one child that the Dark Lord could be interested in, and yet, Gaius paused, certain that he must have misunderstood.

“You mean the babe that’s being protected in the King of Vampire’s lair?”

Crimson eyes flared with hunger. “Yes.”

“That is . . .” This time Gaius managed to swallow his impulsive words.

“There’s something you want to share?” the Dark Lord mocked.

Hell yes, there was something he wanted to share. He wanted to share that it was sheer madness to try and battle his way into the most highly guarded lair in the entire world.

He would be dead before he ever reached the front gates.

“No matter what my powers, I can’t possibly bluff my way past the Anasso and his Ravens,” he cautiously pointed out. “And I certainly can’t overpower them.”

Sally shrugged. “You won’t be alone.”

Gaius glanced toward the flakes of black dust that was all that remained of Dolf. “I doubt my remaining companions would offer the firepower I would need.”

“The curs are no longer necessary to my plans.” Sally gave a wave of her hand. “I have a new servant to assist you.”

Gaius didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified. “May I ask who it is?”

“A vampire named Kostas.”

Kostas. The name wasn’t familiar to Gaius, but that wasn’t surprising considering that he’d spent the past few centuries beyond the Veil. But he did know that the vampire wasn’t one of Styx’s Ravens or one of his trusted allies, which made him wonder what kind of help he could provide.