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“No,” Jean-Claude said.

“No,” Wicked repeated, and he allowed himself a small, tasteful smirk of satisfaction.

“Who is your master?” Elinore asked.

“They are,” and Truth motioned at both Jean-Claude and me.

“Then why is Jean-Claude’s order not good enough?” she asked.

“He hasn’t bespelled Requiem; she has,” Truth said.

“You do not agree with London that it is Jean-Claude’s ardeur flowing through Anita.”

They both shook their heads, and the movement was so well-timed that you could suddenly see how identical they almost were.

Wicked spoke for them. “Anita’s will, her intent, is what we need.” He stared at me. “What is your will, Anita?”

“To have him free of me.”

“Would you undo the blood oath and cast him back to Belle Morte?” Wicked asked.

Requiem clutched at my hand. “Please, mistress, not that.”

I patted his shoulder. “No, Requiem, you’re not going back to Belle. We would never let that happen.” He calmed almost instantly, and he shouldn’t have. That much panic shouldn’t have just vanished. It was just another sign of how far gone he was.

“Be careful with your words,” said Truth, “for they are dangerous things.”

I thought before I spoke the next time. “I want him to have choices. I don’t want all his free will sucked away like this.”

“Why?” Wicked asked. “Why is bespelling him so terrible to you?”

I looked into Requiem’s face where he sat beside me. He gave me a look of absolute adoration. My stomach clenched tight. The thought of anyone being bound to anyone else like that was wrong; that I’d done it by accident made me vaguely nauseous.

“I like Requiem. He’s a good guy, especially for a vampire. I don’t want him like this, some sort of slave, it’s just creepy.”

“Is he better off dead?” Wicked asked.

“No,” I said, quickly, “no.”

“Then what would you have us do?” Truth asked.

Requiem said, “Do I not please you?”

I grabbed his good shoulder and said, “I know you’re in there, Requiem. Come back to us. Hear me, Requiem, hear my voice, and break free of this.”

“I don’t wish to be free,” he said, simply.

I pulled away from him, and he tried to hold on. I actually slapped his hands away from me. He looked so hurt.

“Please, Anita, how have I displeased you so? I will do anything. Anything that you ask, if you will only feed the ardeur from me.”

“Anything,” I said.

“Anything, you have but to speak it, and I will do it.”

“Break free of this,” I said.

“I do not understand,” he said, and he looked as puzzled as his words.

“That’s what I want, Requiem. I want you to break free of what I’ve done to you.” The moment I said it, I knew it was true, that was what I wanted. “You’re a master vampire. You could be a Master of the City, if you were a little more ambitious. You can fight this.” I searched his face, to see if he understood what I was saying. “Come back to yourself, or I won’t feed the ardeur on you.”

“Anita, I…I don’t…”

“You said you’d do anything I asked. This is an anything, and it’s what I want you to do.”

“You may be asking something he cannot do,” Wicked said.

“I’ve felt his own version of the ardeur. Or whatever you call the other gifts of Belle’s line that aren’t exactly ardeur. He is powerful.” I looked into his face and tried to show him how much I knew he could do this. “I want to see Requiem staring at me out of these eyes, not some besotted fool. Be the strong man I know you can be. Fight free of this, enough to talk to me. I won’t touch you, ever again, unless you can give consent.” He looked so stricken, so wounded, that I went up on my knees and cradled his face between my hands. “You told me once that you considered your power rape, because it affected only the body and not the mind. Do you remember saying that, Requiem?”

He frowned, but finally whispered, “Yes.”

“If I take you like this, it’s rape, and I won’t do it.”

I watched the emotions struggle across his face. “Anita…I do not know how to break these soft chains. Once love was strong enough to break them, but without love, let me be covered in your silken chains. Tie me down, and let me drown in your sweet flesh.”