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“Oh? Which vampire was that?” The Lord of Berlin’s voice was laced with skepticism.

Rafe hesitated, feeling the noose tighten around his neck.

“It was me, my lords,” Lenore declared firmly. “I’d attempted to leap a tall fence and impaled myself in the effort.” She looked down at her toes in feigned embarrassment. “I would have died if Lord Villar hadn’t saved me.”

The Elders remained still for a heart-stopping moment.

At last they nodded and the Lord of Rome surveyed Rafe with a raised brow. “Then why have you not killed the woman?”

“I do not believe that she should die,” Rafe answered with more conviction than anything he’d ever said. “This woman may be the greatest healer to have ever walked the earth. She healed my arm”—he extended his left arm, flexing his fingers—“and she is now healing my people.”

All five Elders gaped in astonishment, staring at his arm as if they hadn’t seen one before.

“Mein Gott,” the Lord of Berlin breathed. “You are no longer crippled. I hadn’t noticed.”

Rafe fought back a disparaging sigh. No one ever noticed when things were right, only when they were wrong.

Before the urge to make a cutting remark became too strong, he continued to plead his case. “I believe Cassandra could be a priceless asset to our kind. I sent letters to my allies requesting them to Change her. Unfortunately, none were able to oblige me. However, Lord Deveril wrote a petition for you to allow her to live until arrangements can be made to Change her—”

“Is this true, Lord Tremayne?” The Lord of New York addressed Vincent by his surname. The Elders cared nothing for mortal titles.

Vincent nodded and stepped forward. “Yes, and the Lords of Blackpool and Rochester signed the document along with my wife and Rafael’s second- and third-in-command. Each also added their own testimonies to Lady Rosslyn’s merits.”

“How very touching,” the Lord of Rome purred. “Unfortunately, we received no such petition.”

One of Clayton’s rogues cleared his throat and rattled his chains. “I know where the letter is. If I tell you, will you have mercy?”

“If the information is useful, then yes, Paul.” The Lord of New York stepped over to him.

Paul returned her smile. “We killed the vampire that Lord Villar sent to deliver the message. Hamish still has it in his pocket.”

In a blur of speed, the Elder reached into Hamish’s coat and withdrew the envelope. She tore it open with a fang and read the contents.

“Yes, this is useful indeed.” She nodded at Vincent. “Your sword, Lord Tremayne?”

Vincent handed her his blade. She smiled and plunged the sword through Paul’s heart.

“I thought ye said ye’d have mercy!” Hamish whined, face pale as clotted cream.

The ancient vampire smiled. “We did. Intercepting communications to the Elders is punishable by death. I gave him a quick one. You, however, will not receive the same courtesy.” She turned her back on him and handed the letter to the other Elders.

When all had read Rafe’s letter and Vincent’s petition, they pressed together in a circle, talking too quietly to hear. Often they broke off to watch Cassandra tending the wounded.

Please, Rafe prayed, please let her live.

After an eternity, the Elders separated from their huddle and approached him. “This mortal’s talent for healing is indeed impressive. However, we cannot allow this to continue.”

Rafe’s fists clenched until his nails made bloody crescents in his palms. He couldn’t let them kill her. They would have to kill him as well, and he would take as many as he could down with him.

As if sensing his dissent, the Lord of Rome poised his sword at Rafe’s throat.

“Bring her here,” the Lord of Edo commanded. She inclined her head in Thomas Wakley’s direction. “And the other mortal as well.”

Thirty-four

An icy stone settled in Cassandra’s belly as Rafe’s voice boomed out in strained command. “Doctor Burton, Mr. Wakley, come to me now.”

Quickly, she finished stitching her patient’s wound and patted his hand absently before rising and hefting her satchel over her shoulder.