He could tell she was working her subtle magic, deflecting others from noticing them, because despite their fast pace, and despite the fact that Graydon was well known in New York and Bel’s face was internationally famous, no one turned to look at them or remarked on their presence.

They made it through the lobby without fuss, and took the elevator up to the suite. As he knocked on the door, she stood beside him, to all appearances looking calm and composed, but he noticed how she twisted her hands together until the knuckles showed white.

He covered her hands with one of his and squeezed. Her large, dark gaze lifted to his, and she gave him a grateful smile.

This time, Luis answered the door. The younger Wyr nodded a greeting to Graydon, while his gaze lingered on Bel.

Almost imperceptibly, Luis’s expression lightened, and despite the fact that the younger Wyr had mated with another woman, and the fact that Bel was not Graydon’s, he felt a possessive snarl build at the back of his throat and an almost uncontrollable urge to get violent.

The impulse knocked him back into himself. He was getting perilously close to mating behavior again. He had to find some way to throttle back emotionally, but the only way he knew to do that was to have a complete cutoff from her – and after enduring the last two hundred years, he didn’t know if he could make himself do it again.

As Luis stood back from the door, Graydon let Bel enter first. When he stepped inside, the younger Wyr murmured, “You okay?”

He shot Luis a glance. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Luis was so perceptive. “Don’t worry about it.”

Bel lingered and glanced over her shoulder at them. Smoothly, Luis switched to telepathy. Does she know how you feel?

He sounded concerned. Graydon shook his head at the younger man.

It’s complicated, he said shortly. And how I feel is not the focal point right now.

Understood. Luis said aloud, “The living room is pretty crowded, but this was the best place we could think of to maintain privacy.”

Graydon followed Bel down the short hallway. The younger Wyr hadn’t exaggerated. Counting Luis, nine other people awaited them. A couple of opened bottles of wine sat on the coffee table, along with Diet Cokes, and several glasses.

Graydon took a quick sweep of the room. Claudia sat in a yoga position, cross-legged on the floor, her spine straight and posture relaxed. She looked like she could maintain the position all night if needed. Luis joined her, sprawling on the floor beside her.

Carling and Rune occupied one comfortable armchair. Rune lounged in the chair, while Carling perched on one arm and draped her shapely torso along the back, curling around his shoulders like a cat.

Slightly disconnected from the others, Constantine stood by the window. He leaned against the wall in a casual pose, arms crossed and one ankle kicked over the other. His posture was relaxed, but his sharp, curious gaze took in everything.

Julian sat at one end of the large couch, while Melly sat on the floor at his feet and leaned against his legs.

There was another couple present, which came as a surprise to Graydon. Bel responded to a flurry of greetings as Graydon frowned at the new, unexpected pair. A human woman sat at the other end of the couch. She was young, with pretty features and strawberry blond hair.

Graydon recognized her easily. She was Grace Andreas, the most recent in a long line of Oracles that led back to ancient Greece. Standing beside her, arms crossed, stood a tall, imperious-looking Djinn male with raven hair, white skin and diamondlike eyes.

He was Grace’s lover Khalil, a second-generation Djinn. Graydon’s mind clicked through a mental Rolodex, until he had placed the Djinn’s connections. The most important one stood out. Khalil’s father was Soren, the head of the Elder tribunal.

Rune had followed the direction of his gaze and said telepathically, You do know they work for us too, right?

I know, Graydon said. He didn’t like any surprises at this late point in the game. I just wasn’t expecting them.

Trust me, Rune told him. Khalil has valuable experience to bring to the discussion. And both Khalil and Grace are every bit as reliable as Claudia and Luis.

Graydon relaxed slightly. He had known Rune for as long as he had known any of the other sentinels. Rune had been Dragos’s First sentinel for centuries, before he met and mated with Carling. Graydon did trust the other gryphon – with his life, if necessary.

With several people’s lives, if it came to that.

Claudia nudged Luis, who rose to step into the kitchenette. Returning, he carried two dining chairs, which he placed opposite the couch. Murmuring a thanks, Bel sat.

Choosing to stand, Graydon reached for one of the Diet Cokes and popped the tab. He had a feeling the caffeine would come in handy.

“I guess that’s everybody,” he said. “Thanks for coming.”

By the window, Constantine stirred. “Now that we’re all here, why don’t you tell us what the hell is going on?”

Graydon took a deep pull from his Diet Coke before he answered. “Some of you already know, or at least, I’m pretty sure you must suspect,” he said. “We’re here to discuss how to kill a Djinn.”

The atmosphere in the room shifted, as if everyone had drawn in a collective breath.

“No shit?” said Constantine. The other sentinel coughed out a laugh. “Now things have gotten really fucking interesting.”

FOURTEEN

K

halil spoke. His voice was deep and pure, like a bell. “I want to be clear from the beginning about Grace’s and my involvement. We might attend this discussion, but I will not take part in a war against another Djinn again. Small children rely on me. Grace relies on me.”

Grace turned to look up at Khalil, and the expression of love on her face turned her into a luminous beauty. Khalil rested a large hand on her slim, tanned shoulder.