Jealousy

inside my own head, than face the fact that I’d gotten him into this. And that he was probably paying for it right now.

I knew what they did to break werwulfen. I’d learned as much at the other Schola.

Sergej was going to do that to Graves.

Oh, God. I struggled against Christophe’s hands.

“He will have you too if you run out of here screaming.” His fingers bit in. “Listen to me, Dru. We’ll get your loup-garou back. I swear it on my blades and my bloodline. But there’s nothing you can do right this moment.”

I knew he was right, but it didn’t help. The numbness was over, and my entire chest was cracking open. Hot water slicked my cheeks. Was I ever going to stop crying? Jesus.

“I swear it.” Christophe stared me down like we were the only two people in the room. “The rest of the Council will swear, too. Won’t you?”

A long, tense-ticking quiet moment went by. I couldn’t look away from Christophe. He stared like he had X- ray vision and was checking out my brain folds.

“Because,” he continued inexorably, “they are offering me a seat on the Council, since two of their members are, to put it kindly, unfit. And they were about to tell you that you, dearest one, are the head of the Order now.”

“Screw their Order.” And I meant it. “They can put their Order where the sun doesn’t—”

He lifted his hand, and I subsided. It was just like having Dad give me the Meaningful Look. Bite your tongue, Dru.

“The Order is a massive organization, well-funded and—once we finish rooting out Anna’s holdouts—well- trained and loyal. You stand a much better chance of finding your friend and surviving with them on your side.” He paused, and the next thing he said held no shade of businesslike mockery. It was the gentle tone he’d never used around anyone but me before. “And if you do not trust them, skowroneczko moja, try to trust me.”

“I—” But the protest stopped before I could even find words. His blood was still tingling through my veins, whispering to me. I knew what it was like to have fangs in my wrist and to feel the awful, horrible, draining and ripping sensation. He’d done that for me while I lay dying on an operating table. Anna had been shooting with an assault rifle, for God’s sake, and Christophe had hunched over me. Protecting me with his own body.

He’d been there at every turn, watching out for me. And coming back for me, time and again.

There was just one question I could ask right now.

“If I stamped out of here right now, Christophe, what would you do?” For once, I didn’t care that everyone was watching.

“You wouldn’t be so foolish.” Amazingly he smiled. It was a slow, very private expression, and it lit up his eyes for a bare moment before it vanished. “If you did, skowroneczko moja, moja księżniczko, you would not go alone.”

“Now hold on just one moment—” Bruce began.

“Shut up.” There was no joy in snapping that and having someone shut his mouth so fast he almost lost part of his tongue. “Are you serious?”

As if I could even ask Christophe that with his blood burning in me and my mouth still tingling, not just from the aspect running through my teeth but also from the taste of him.

One corner of his mouth lifted fractionally. Then his entire face turned solemn. “Completely. Trust me, Dru. First we find Anna. Then we hunt Sergej down. With you fully trained and bloomed, the Order has a chance. You do not have to be helpless anymore.”

What do you do when someone says something like that? Something that jolts through you like a train skidding to an emergency stop. Something that turns everything upside down because it’s so true.

I clutched the coat to my chest. Managed to tear my eyes away from Christophe and look at the rest of them. Bruce looked worried, Ezra somber. Alton had folded his arms and was watching Christophe closely, a line between his eyebrows, his dark eyes snapping and intent.

Hiro looked steadily back at me, his mouth set and his hair stirring slightly as the aspect touched him. As if he was urging me to make the right decision.

I didn’t know if there was a right decision. But I had to make one. It counted, right now. I had to choose the right thing to do, because Graves was . . .

Oh, God. I didn’t even want to think about it. But I had to. Because I’d gotten him into this. It was my fault. All of it was my fault, and once I started laying blame I just would not stop. All of it, the whole huge mess, was my goddamn fault.

Time to start doing the right thing, Dru.

With Christophe to help, it might even be possible. It was all I could do.

I hugged the coat as I half-turned. I walked down to the end of the table, each step taking a lifetime.

I pulled the heavy carved chair at the head of the polished table out and dropped down into it.

The sighs of relief—Bruce and Hiro, at the same time, with Alton’s a fraction of a second behind—were audible. I tried to ignore it. Ezra folded his arms. Christophe stood still, but his eyes were burning. And fixed on me.

“All right,” I said, hugging Graves’s coat so hard my arms ached. “Where do we start?”