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  Bartholomew lifted the cloak from his shoulders and laid it across his wife, then faced Judah. “My lord, you know which ancient decree she was talking about.”

  Judah rose to his feet. “Yes, I know.”

  “Sidra believes her vision to be a true one,” Bartholomew said. “If it is…there is a mixed-breed child out there somewhere, a child who is half Ansara and half Raintree.”

  “Yes, there is.”

  “You already knew of the child’s existence?” Bartholomew asked.

  Judah hesitated. “Yes.”

  “After what Sidra has seen, I agree that you have to protect the child,” Claude said. “Write a new decree and sign it, with Bartholomew and me as witnesses. Revoke the ancient decree that demands the death of any mixed-breed offspring.”

  “Claude is right, my lord.” Bartholomew glanced down lovingly at his wife. “Sidra believes Cael will try to kill the child, and you must not allow that to happen. Without her, the Ansara are doomed.”

  “I swear on my father’s honor that I won’t let anything happen to the child,” Judah said. I’ll protect you, Eve. Do you hear me? No one will harm you. Now or ever.

  Mercy sensed a triad of minds searching inside the sanctuary boundaries—powerful thoughts that had combined in order to increase their strength. Instinctively, she realized the psychic exploration originated from far away. Lying aside the book that she’d been reading—an ancient script filled with spells and incantations of protection—she concentrated fully on the hostile energy. It took only a minute for her to understand the danger.

  Ansara!

  One mind was leading the other two, guiding them as it struggled to contact Eve.

  I won’t allow it. Closing her eyes and taking a deep, strengthening breath, she concentrated on surrounding Eve, adding extra protection to the magical boundary that already guarded her.

  It’s all right, Mother. I’m not afraid of him. He can’t hurt me.

  Oh, God, Eve. Don’t! Whatever you’re thinking about doing, don’t do it.

  Silly Mommy.

  You’d better listen to me, Eve Raintree!

  No, I’m Eve Ansara.

  Striving to maintain the second level of protection around Eve, Mercy opened her eyes and ran from her study, seeking her daughter. She found Eve sitting on a cushion on the floor in the living room, surrounded by an array of stuffed animals, all marching around Eve, their little stuffed appendages bounding up and down against the wooden floor.

  “Eve!”

  Eve gasped. Her eyes widened as she faced Mercy and abruptly aborted the spell she had used to animate her stuffed animals.

  “I was just practicing.” Eve’s beguiling smile pleaded for understanding.

  “That man—your father’s enemy—did you say or do anything—”

  “Don’t worry.” Eve stood, shoulders straight and head held high. Self-assured in a way few six-year-olds were. A true princess.

  “I sent him and the other two away,” Eve said. “They wanted to know who my father was and—”

  “You didn’t tell them, did you?”

  “Of course not.” Eve stepped over a tiger and a bear as she approached Mercy. “I shut them out. It made him mad.” She gazed up at Mercy, a deceptive innocence in her green Raintree eyes.

  Eve had been headstrong, stubborn and not easy to control before Judah entered her life, but she was always Mercy’s sweet little girl who might resist her mother’s wishes but would obey in the end. Without being able to pinpoint exactly the moment it had happened, Mercy recognized that Eve was no longer under her control. Perhaps it would have happened eventually, when Eve was older, whether or not she ever met her father, but somehow meeting Judah had changed Eve. And it had forever altered Mercy’s relationship with her daughter.

  “I love you just as much as ever.” Eve wrapped her arms around Mercy’s waist, laid her head on Mercy’s tummy, and hugged her.

  Mercy caressed Eve’s head. “I love you, too.”

  Eve eased away from Mercy and looked up at her. “I’m sorry you’re sad because I’m an Ansara.”

  Mercy bit down on her bottom lip in an effort to neither cry nor scream. Sighing heavily, she looked right at Eve. “I am Raintree. You’re my daughter. You are Raintree.”

  “Mother, Mother.” Eve shook her head. “I was born into the Raintree clan, but I was born for the Ansara. For my father.”

  A shiver of realization chilled Mercy, sending the cold, hard truth shooting to her brain. The fear that she had kept buried deep inside her since Eve’s conception came out of hiding, bursting from her in a psychic energy storm that shook the entire house.

  Mercy seldom if ever lost control of her powers, but this reaction had been entirely involuntary, a knee-jerk response to suspecting that her daughter’s destiny was to save the Raintree’s mortal enemies.

  Eve grabbed Mercy’s hand, instantly calming her. For one brief instant, as mother’s and daughter’s powers linked, Mercy felt the immense power Eve possessed.

  Once again in control of herself, Mercy said, “Your father’s people, the Ansara, and my people, the Raintree, have been enemies since time immemorial. Sidonia has told you the stories of our people, how long ago we defeated the Ansara in a terrible battle and only a handful of their kind survived.”

  “I love it when Sidonia tells me those stories,” Eve said. “She always tells me how mean and bad the Ansara are, and how good and kind the Raintree are. Does that mean I’m both good and bad?”

  How was it possible that one minute Eve was wise and powerful beyond her years, and then the next minute she seemed to be only an adorable six-year-old?

  “We are all good and bad,” Mercy said.

  “Even my daddy?”

  “Yes, perhaps.” Mercy could not bring herself to tell Eve that Judah was as wicked and evil as all his kind. But how do you know that to be true? a taunting inner voice asked. Judah is the only Ansara you’ve ever know, the only one you’ve ever met.

  The Raintrees’ knowledge of the Ansara came from historical accounts two hundred years old.

  And from an inborn psychic instinct that Mercy could not deny.

  Tuesday, 8:45 p.m.

  Three whores from his private brothel stroked and petted and pleasured Cael as he lay on black satin sheets. Risa and Natalie had disappointed him bitterly earlier today. He had sent both women out of his sight, placing all the blame for his failure to penetrate Eve Raintree’s mind squarely on the psychics’ shoulders. He had spent hours fuming, the anger inside him building to an explosive point.

  Needing to release his rage and find temporary ease and forgetfulness, he had sent for a diversion. Each of his whores had taken her turn under his whip, screaming and begging as his blows brought blood to their backs and buttocks. Their pain aroused Cael unbearably, adding heightened sensation to the sex act. As the redhead with the talented tongue brought him to yet another climax, Cael clutched her by the hair of her head, making her scream in pain as he shuddered with fulfillment.

  As he rested there, sated and sleepy, the double doors to his bedroom suite swung open as if a gale-force wind had ripped them from the hinges. Cael laughed when he saw Alexandria storming into his private quarters. No doubt she would throw a jealous tantrum.

  “Send your whores away,” she said, her voice oddly calm. “I need to speak to you without an audience.”

  Naked and reeking of sex, Cael shoved the women aside as he eased to the side of the bed and stood to face Alexandria. When he looked her in the eye, he saw neither anger nor jealousy.

  With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the whores. “Go. Leave me. Return to the brothel.”

  The women obeyed instantly, hurrying to put on their robes as they exited the room. Once they were gone, Cael walked over to Alexandria and smiled at her.

  “You disappoint me, my love. I had expected a jealous tantrum.”

  “You flatter yourself if you think I care who else you screw, now or in the future. As long