Claimed by Shadow

Pritkin finally emerged, looking pale and a little ill, and I took his place in back. I didn't mind Mac checking on my problematic protection. He and Pritkin needed me alive until they reeled in Myra, so he had a vested interest in fixing it if he could. I was a little worried about the geis acting up, but apparently I wasn't Mac's type. I didn't get so much as a twinge from the hellish thing, even when I removed my tank top. I wasn't wearing a bra, but I held the shirt in front of me and Mac's hands were as impersonal as a doctor's.

"Can I ask you a question?" He was poking at my back with something that resembled an extremely fuzzy pipe cleaner. It didn't hurt, but it made my aura itch.

I repressed the urge to wiggle. "Sure.”

"Why are you doing this? You seem… that is, you don't strike me as particularly vindictive.”

I glanced at him over my shoulder. "What am I supposed to be vindictive about?”

He shrugged. "John said you plan to kill this vampire, Antonio. I'm assuming he deserves it, but…”

"I don't strike you as a homicidal nut?”

He laughed. "Something like that. If you don't mind my asking, what did he do to you?”

I thought about it while he changed instruments. The easy answer was "everything," but I didn't want to get into a long conversation on a topic that, even on a good day, managed to depress me. But avoiding it entirely might not be smart either. I didn't need Pritkin to get any hints that Myra interested me a lot more than Tony at the moment. I decided on a partial truth. It wasn't like I didn't have plenty of. legitimate grievances against the fat man.

"Revenge isn't my main goal. I guess you could say that I want to retrieve some personal property." I jumped as a spark suddenly arced over my skin. Mac's new instrument made my aura crackle, like it was filled with static. I sat very still to avoid shocking myself again.

"He stole something from you?”

I repressed a sigh. Apparently, Mac wasn't going to be satisfied with the short version. "Twenty years ago, Tony decided he wanted a competent seer at his court, someone he could trust. But accurate seers are few and far between, and honest ones aren't likely to work for a member of the vampire mafia. He finally decided that what he needed was to find one he could bring up from childhood to be loyal. And, as luck would have it, one of his human employees had a young daughter who seemed perfect for the role. But even though my father had been on Tony's payroll for years, he ignored the order to bring me to court.”

"Your father was a rogue?" Mac asked. He seemed surprised.

"I don't know what he was. I was told he could communicate with ghosts, so I guess he had some clairvoyant ability. Whether he was a mage or not-" I shrugged. One of these days, I hoped to ask him-about that and a lot of other things. "All I know is that he was one of Tony's favorite humans. Until he told him no, that is.”

"Surely he must have known what the vampire's reaction was likely to be.”

"I assume he pla

Mac's hands had gone very still on my back. I glanced behind me to see him staring at me blankly. "You aren't serious… are you?”

I turned back around. "Yeah. From what I understand, it's only about the size of a golf ball, so it could be anywhere. Tony has three houses and more than a dozen businesses, and those are just the ones I know about. I don't feel like searching through them all so I thought I'd let him tell me where it is." I actually assumed he had it with him. It would be Tony's style to carry his trophies along even when fleeing for his life.

Mac was just standing there, his hands on my shoulders. He looked stu

"Tempted to do what?”

"You're Pythia. You could go back, change what happened." He moved so he could see my eyes. "You could save your family, Cassie.”

I sighed. Sure I could. "You don't know Tony. Besides, I thought the idea was for me to help guard the timeline, not to interfere with it myself. I could end up changing something vital and possibly make things even worse." Make that probably, with my luck.

His gaze sharpened. "But, technically, you could do it.”

"Yeah, I could keep my parents from getting in the car that Tony rigged to explode, but if I did, my life would have been completely different, along with who knows how many other people's. And, knowing Tony, he'd have managed to kill them some other way," I smiled grimly. "He's persistent like that.”

Mac regarded me searchingly, to the point of making me uncomfortable. "Most people would view the power as a great opportunity to advance themselves," he finally said. "It could bring you, well, almost anything you wanted. Wealth, influence-”

I gave him exasperated eyes. “The only thing I want is a nice, uncomplicated life. With no one trying to kill me, manipulate me or betray me." And where, if I messed up on the job, I didn't get anyone killed. "Somehow, I don't think the Pythia gig is going to help me with that!" I was tired of the inquisition and I wanted to get dressed. "Are you done?”

"Oh, right," Mac replaced his instruments in a small case and looked politely away so I could get dressed. "Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

"The good." Why not try something different for a change?

"I think I can fix it.”

I blinked at him in surprise. I'd been expecting to hear that there was nothing he could do and that I'd have to go into Faerie with no protection. "Really? That's great!”

"Do you know anything about how your ward works?”

I shook my head. "Not a lot. My mother somehow transferred it to me, but I don't even remember it. I was only four when she died. For years, I thought it was a regular ward that Tony had put on me as an added safeguard.”

Mac looked almost offended. "Regular ward! No, I guarantee you'll never see another of the like. It's hundreds of years old and priceless, one of the Circle's real treasures.”

"It's a tattoo, Mac, not a work of art.”

"In fact, it's both." He stretched out his right arm and pointed to a small brown and orange hawk near the bend in his elbow. "Watch." He muttered something, then took hold of the loose skin in the crease of his arm and pulled. A second later a small, metallic bird glimmered on his palm, its wings outstretched in flight like the one on his arm. It took me a moment to realize that it was the one on his arm, or rather, the one that had been there. Now there was only a bare, bird-shaped patch of skin. I picked up the small metal object. The feathers and detail were gone. It looked and felt like solid gold. For a moment I suspected sleight of hand or some trick, but after letting me examine it, he put it back in place and I watched it dissolve into his skin.

"What is that?”

"A red-tailed hawk. It increases the power of observation. Doesn't help the eyesight, but if you want to notice more about your surroundings and retain the knowledge, you can't do better.”

Something was bothering me. "The books out front said that there's a limit to how many tattoos anyone can support, even the strongest mage, because each one takes some of your magic to maintain itself, and even more when it's used." I looked him over, almost dizzy with the number of squirming images all over his body. "How can you wear so many?”

He gri