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child, you know not what you ask or you would not ask it. I can supply you with this information, but you must understand that removing his curse will not help him.’

‘Why not?’ The Aurelian had the information to remove it, just as Chrysabelle had suspected she would. Victory was at hand.

‘He lives under two curses, yes? One that he earned by draining the monster that sired him, the second given to him by the nobility to restrain him. If you remove the second curse, the one that fills his head with voices from the souls he’s taken, then the first curse returns in full force. He will no longer think twice about killing but will once again become the ravening beast whose only thoughts are death and destruction. What little humanity is in him will vanish.’

The weight of defeat squashed Chrysabelle’s chest, forcing out the joy that had just blossomed there. Faintness overwhelmed her and the air in the room thickened until each breath became a chore. She shook her head, trying to shake the numbness out of her head. ‘No, that … that can’t be. I told him I would help him. There must be another way. What if the first curse is removed as well?’

‘There is no undoing the first curse, only the second. Do you wish to know how to remove this curse, accepting what he will become?’

Chrysabelle inhaled a deep, shuddering breath and looked at Mal. Part of her wanted to scream at the unfairness of it. Instead, she walked to him and put her hands on the invisible wall between them. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t let you go back to that. I can’t lose you that way.’ She cared for him too much. And feared that side of him unlike anything she’d ever known. He would understand, wouldn’t he?

She studied him a moment longer, wishing she could touch him, explain, lessen the burden of this decision. She faced Nadira. ‘Just because I know how to remove his curse doesn’t mean I will allow him to do so.’

‘Very well. To remove the curse placed upon him by the nobility, he must right a number of wrongs equal to the names on his skin. One for every life he has taken. Only then will his curse be removed.’

Chrysabelle’s hope for helping Mal disappeared. How many acts of repentance must he perform? Ten thousand? Twenty thousand? And to what end? So he might become a killing machine again? The bleakness of it soured her stomach. ‘You’re sure there is no cure for the curse of killing his sire?’

Anger flashed in Nadira’s eyes. ‘You question me?’

‘Only out of concern for him, not because I doubt you.’

Nadira shrugged. ‘If there is a cure, I do not know it. Is there anything else you would ask? Your time here grows short.’

‘Yes.’ She watched Nadira carefully. ‘I understand I have a brother.’

Nadira’s eyes narrowed to slits. She stared until Chrysabelle felt like a butterfly about to be pinned and placed under glass. ‘Who gave you this information?’

‘So it’s true, then?’

‘I asked you a question.’

‘I don’t wish to say.’

Nadira stood. ‘You would refuse to answer me? Your lack of respect astounds me.’

‘I mean no disrespect. Only to protect the one who gave me the information.’ Maris might be dead, but there was no reason to spoil what was left of her name. Nor would Nadira’s knowing make any difference in the question’s answer as far as Chrysabelle could see.

‘What you mean and what you do are two very different things.’ Nadira came around the front of the table, her long robes swaying with an angry tremble. ‘I am more than just the keeper of records for the comarré. I am your creator. My husband was Balthazar, one of the Magi who followed the star.’ She paused. ‘I alone held the Child in my arms. Such power you will never know.’

Chrysabelle bowed her head. She’d known the Aurelian was old, but her true age was staggering. ‘No, my lady, I will not.’

‘Even then, Samael’s dark forces followed us. Under his orders, his children killed my husband and his fellow Magi. I alone escaped, saved by the holy magic surrounding me.’

At the mention of the Castus Sanguis’s leader, Chrysabelle shivered. The Aurelian’s chambers would be safe from such intrusion, but the name still chilled her core.

‘Without me, you would not exist. Yet you dare not answer me?’

‘Yes, that is what I dare.’ Chrysabelle raised her head. ‘If power cows me, how will I survive the forces against me? I truly mean you no disrespect, but I need answers. The Primoris Domus has done little to help me.’ She pointed toward Mal. ‘This vampire you think so little of? He has done me more good than my own kind. I came here for answers. If you cannot or will not provide them to me, I bear you no ill will. But the covenant is broken. A new age is upon us. The rules of the past must change to reflect that.’

Nadira lifted her chin. ‘You have more courage than I thought. Fewer brains perhaps, but courage sometimes counts for more.’ She crossed her arms and leaned against the table. ‘Yes, you have a brother. He is closer than you think. Always has been.’

‘How will I know him? What’s his name?’

‘You will know him by his signum.’ She paused. ‘Are you not intersted in your father?’

‘By his signum? How? My father?’ Chrysabelle almost staggered backward with the weight of the unknown. ‘Yes, of course, if you are willing to tell—’

Nadira waved her hand dismissively. ‘You have asked too many questions already. I am done answering. Leave me.’

‘Please, my brother’s name.’ Chrysabelle wrung her hands together. A name would make things so much easier.

Nadira pointed over Chrysabelle’s shoulder.

She turned as the columns of light surrounding Mal and Creek disappeared. They stumbled forward, blinking. Behind them was a massive bronze door. Chrysabelle shook her head. ‘Please, we must return through the portal by which we came.

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