He was your friend, wasn’t he? I mean, he wouldn’t knowingly leave you in a situation like this?
We have an extensive history, and yes, I’ve considered him my friend.
Then why are you suddenly worried? I turned to face him, peering deep into his eyes. You’re hiding something , I said with a sudden realization . I can feel it. You’re holding something back, hiding it from me. Is that why you refused to speak to me this way?
Everyone has things they wish to keep private , he said stiffly, and gently but firmly pushed me out of his mind.
I was shaken to my very soul by a sudden, horrible fear that the man I thought I’d known never really existed.
“As I see it, there are two choices we can make,” Christian said, nodding toward us.
I took a step closer to Kristoff. Stop looking at me like that. I can’t help it if it makes me feel better standing next to you. Safety in numbers and all that.
Kristoff made an inarticulate noise of disagreement, but he reached out, wrapped an arm around my waist, and hauled me up until I was pressed against him, a defiant look on his face as he eyed the other vampires.
Allie beamed at us.
“Our first option is to incarcerate both of you until such time as one of you three-Pia, Kristoff, or the sacristan-decides to be forthcoming with information regarding the whereabouts of Alec, at which point due justice will be meted out.”
“They will torture you just as they will me!” Mattias shouted. “You see what this has come to, wife? It is the end!”
“Oh, stop it!” I snapped, at my wit’s end with him. “You’re not hurt at all, so you can just stop your belly-aching! No one has tortured you, although right now, I certainly wouldn’t blame them if they did.”
Mattias’s eyes opened wide. “Wife!”
“And stop calling me that!” I was so frustrated, I could have screamed.
“Why don’t you simply light-bind him if you’re tired of his constant whining?” Rowan asked.
Mattias gasped. “She wouldn’t!”
“Light-bind?” I asked, confused by his use of the term. “What’s that?”
“You’re a Zorya. He’s a sacristan,” Rowan said, just as if that explained everything.
“Er . . .” I looked at Kristoff for help. He avoided my eye.
“Do not listen to them, wife,” Mattias said hastily, his eye fixed sternly upon me. “They do not know of what they speak. There is no way you can enslave my mind. That is an old wives’ tale, nothing more.”
I pursed my lips as I looked at him. “There’s a way to enslave his mind? Would that make him shut up about being tortured?”
“Of course,” Christian answered with a shrug.
“Do not listen to the evil ones, Pia. They are trying to confuse you, and to divide our joined strength.”
“How do I do it?” I asked, my gaze still speculatively on Mattias.
He tried to get to his feet, but Rowan pushed him back down in the chair before answering. “You are a Zorya, yes? You wield light. The light is what dazzles reapers, bemusing their minds and leaving them open to your command.”
“Wow. How come Summoners don’t get some sort of brainwashing skill like that?” Allie asked, looking a bit disgruntled. “I think I went into the wrong line of work.”
“Wife, I insist that you cease listening to these devils,” Mattias said with an arrogance that was the last straw.
I summoned up a ball of light and held it for a moment, imagining it bending Mattias to my will before tossing it at him. The ball exploded around his head, swirling slowly around it in a corona of glittering, silver light. It glowed as it slowly revolved, fading away after a few seconds until all that was left was a vague look in Mattias’s blue eyes.
“Mattias?” I asked, concerned that I might have done some harm to his vision.
“Yes?”
“Are you all right?”
“I’m quite fine, thank you.”
He looked at peace, a mild expression on his face.
“The vampires are going to torture you now, all right?” I asked, seeing if he really was bedazzled, as they claimed he would be.
“That’s fine. Or would you prefer I torture myself?”
“Er . . . no. You don’t need to do that,” I said, a little taken aback. “You don’t mind if they set your hair on fire, do you?”
“No, that’s fine,” he answered, uncharacteristically agreeable. “Unless, of course, it’s any trouble to you, in which case I would be happy to do it myself. Which would you prefer?”