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“Why?”

“The Church had a theory that vampires could be cured by holy items. They bound Asher with holy items and silver chains. They used holy water on him, drop by drop, trying to save his soul.”

I stared up at that handsome, smiling face. I’d been bitten by a master vampire once upon a time and had the wound cleansed with holy water. It had felt like a red-hot brand was being shoved into my skin, like all the blood in my body had turned to boiling oil. I had vomited and screamed and thought myself very brave for not passing out altogether. That had been one bite mark, one day. Having what amounted to acid dripped on you until you died was in the top five ways not to go out.

“What happened to the girl, Julianna?”

“She was burned as a witch.”

“Where were you?”

“I had taken a ship to see my mother. She was dying. I was on my way back when I heard Asher’s call. I could not get there in time. I swear by all that is holy or unholy that I tried. I rescued Asher, but he never forgave me.”

“He’s not dead?” I asked.

“No.”

“How hurt was he?”

“Until I met Sabin I thought Asher’s scars the worst injury I’d ever known a vampire to survive.”

“Why did you hang the painting if it bothers you this much?”

He sighed and looked at me. “Asher sent it as a present, to congratulate me for becoming Master of the City. The three of us were companions, almost family. Asher and I were true friends, both masters, both of near equal power, both in love with Julianna. She was devoted to him, but I had her favor as well.”

“You mean a ménage à trois?”

He nodded.

“Asher doesn’t hold a grudge?”

“Oh, no, he holds a grudge. If the council would allow it, he would have come with the picture and had his revenge.”

“To kill you?”

Jean-Claude smiled. “Asher always had a strong sense of irony, ma petite. He petitioned the council for your life, not mine.”

My eyes widened. “What did I ever do to him?”

“I killed his human servant; he kills mine. Justice.”

I stared back up at the handsome face. “The council said no?”

“Indeed.”

“You have any other old enemies running around?”

Jean-Claude gave a weak smile. “Many, ma petite, but none in town at the moment.”

I looked up at those smiling faces. I didn’t know quite how to phrase it, but said it anyway. “You all look so young.”

“I am physically the same, ma petite.”

I shook my head. “Maybe young isn’t the word I want. Maybe naive.”

He smiled. “By the time this painting was made, ma petite, naive was not a word that described me, either.”

“Fine, have it your way.” I looked at him, studying his face. He was beautiful, but there was something in his eyes that wasn’t in the painting, some level of sorrow or terror. Something I had no word for, but it was there just the same. A vampire may not wrinkle up, but living a couple of centuries leaves its mark. Even if it’s only a shadow in the eyes, a tightness around the mouth.

I turned to Jason, who was still slumped in the chair. “Does he give these little history lessons often?”

“Only to you,” Jason said.

“You never ask questions?” I asked.

“I’m just his pet. You don’t answer questions for your pet.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

Jason smiled. “Why should I care about the painting? The woman’s dead, so I can’t have sex with her. Why should I care?”

I felt Jean-Claude move past me, but couldn’t follow with my eyes. His hand was a blur. The chair clattered to the floor, spilling Jason with it. Blood showed at his mouth.

“Never speak of her again in such a manner.”

Jason touched the back of his hand to his mouth and came away with blood. “Whatever you say.” He licked the blood off his hand with long slow movements of his tongue.

I stared from one to the other of them. “You are both crazy.”

“Not crazy, ma petite, merely not human.”

“Being a vampire doesn’t give you the right to treat people like that. Richard doesn’t beat people up.”

“Which is why he will never hold the pack.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Even if he swallows his high morals and kills Marcus, he will not be cruel