«No, truly, Miss Blake, I do not.»
«It's Ms. Blake, or Marshal Blake, to you.»
He made a small gesture. «Ms. Blake, then.»
«What would you have done if you had succeeded in rolling the minds of six Masters of the City?» Asher asked. His hair hid half his face, a golden distraction.
«I will not answer your question for you are not master here, nor powerful enough to be témoin.»
«Fine, what he said.»
Merlin looked at me. «What is that, Ms. Blake?»
«Don't make me repeat the question, Merlin, just answer it.»
«I don't understand what you hope to gain by this little discussion, Ms. Blake. Truly, I do not.»
«You tried to mind-fuck six Masters of the City, plus a half-dozen or more rulers of the local lycanthropes. Hell, we've got animals to call of several masters, plus human servants. You tried to bite off a great, big, bloody chunk, and you weren't master enough to swallow it.»
«Merlin could have taken you all.» This from Elisabetta.
I shook my head without looking at her. «No, he couldn't, or he'd have done it.»
«What do you want from us, Ms. Blake?» Merlin asked.
«I want to know why you did it. Don't give me shit about wanting all your audience to enjoy the show. If you have truly been mind-fucking all the masters at all the performances, then you wanted to know if you could take them all here tonight. I want to know, why?»
«Why what, Ms. Blake?»
«Why try to roll everyone? Why run the risk of insulting all of them? Why throw this big a gauntlet down? You're a master vampire. You're so damn old you make my bones ache just sitting there. Vamps like you don't make mistakes, Merlin. Vamps like you always have a reason for everything they do.»
«Perhaps I do not believe that a human who has barely seen three decades of mortal life would be able to understand my motives.»
«Try me. Better yet, try Jean-Claude. You said it yourself; when you speak to me, you speak to him.»
He went very still then. I knew the quality of that stillness. I'd surprised him in some way. Stillness could be as telling on a vampire as a gesture on a human.
«Touché, Ms. Blake.» He made another small gesture with his hands. «You will not believe that I did it only to make our production more enjoyable to all.»
«No,» I said.
He did that hands-out gesture again. I was beginning to wonder if it was his version of a shrug. «Perhaps, after succeeding in city after city, I had simply grown arrogant. Perhaps I truly believed I could do you all.»
«I believe you're arrogant. I might even believe that you rolled the rest of the masters individually. I'm not sure on that one, yet. I've felt your mind; I won't say you couldn't do it, just that you might not have tried.»
«Then why did I try tonight?» he asked.
I smiled. It didn't feel like a happy smile, more like that curl of lips when I'm pissed. «That's what I'm trying to find out, and what you keep avoiding answering.»
«Am I avoiding the question?» he asked.
I nodded, and this time my smile was almost happy. «Yeah, you are.»
«Perhaps I have answered it, and you simply do not like the answer.»
«Perhaps you're trying not to outright lie in case Damian, or Asher, or one of the others smells or feels the lie. But you are definitely not answering the question completely.»
«Do you truly believe that if I wished to lie in front of the people you have in this room, that I could not do it successfully?»
I thought about that for a second. I fought the urge to look at Asher. Damian played his hand along my shoulder. «I think you could, but not without using more mind power than you want to use around me.»
«And why do I not wish to use mind powers around you, Ms. Blake?» His voice held disdain, almost amusement. I wasn't insulted; his voice was like everything about him, practiced, calculated.
«Because you're afraid that Mommie Dearest will hear it, and pay a second visit tonight.»
He tried for arrogant disdain, and made it, but I could taste the change in him. The faintest, thinnest taste of fear. «And who is Mommie Dearest?»
I stared very hard at that graceful line of jaw. I'd have loved eye contact, but didn't want to risk it. «Do you really want me to say her name?»
«You can say anything you like,» he said.
I nodded, and found my own heart beating faster, my newly scarred hand clenched into a fist. «Fine» — and my voice was a little breathy — «you're afraid the Mother of All Darkness will show up again.»
Did the lights grow a shade less bright, or was it my imagination?