Whatever berserker rage had fueled my rampage had evaporated the second the killing spree was over. I barely had enough strength to keep my head up, much less fight the remaining guards that piled onto me. There were four in total, which felt like overkill. One would have sufficed. I doubted I could have won a wrestling match with Little Harry at this point.

I hung limply between McGregor and the unnamed guard who'd stopped us at the gates. He wasn't dismissive now. He was looking at me like he was an orderly at a psych ward as if I'd snap at any moment and try to bite his face off. Which was unfortunately a fair assessment. It was the height of naiveté to think that the mental tampering had been limited to a one-time attack. Until figured out a way to diffuse the bomb someone had planted in my psyche, I was likely to turn into a rabid dog at the drop of a hat, killing indiscriminately.

The question was, who had placed the bomb and why. It obviously wasn't meant to go off here, so there had to have been another target, but in the fugue of fear, exhaustion, and pain I couldn't put my finger on who it might be.

When my eyes came into focus again I found myself in a rose garden, staring at the backside of one of the Raith sisters. I could finally admit that Lasciel might have been telling the truth when she hinted at my burgeoning bisexuality. The view was superb, the sway of her hips was utterly mesmerizing, more appealing even than Felicia's. The white silk dress she wore was backless, giving me an excellent view of the elegant curve of her spine, and the smooth muscle gliding beneath her equally pale flesh. A small freckle was the only blemish on her otherwise pristine skin, but she managed to make even that seem artful, rather than distracting. Glossy black curls had been swept up into a no-nonsense tail at the base of her neck.

Her eyes were like flat, silver mirrors when she turned them in my direction. My legs suddenly wobbled, and I'd have collapsed to my knees in front of her if McGregor wasn't keeping me upright. I had a feeling I knew what I'd do once I was kneeling. Relish whatever she asked me to do whenever she had me there. I couldn't remember wanting anyone like this since Thomas. Knowing it was a come-hither whammy didn't lessen the appeal one bit.

"You're with us, I see," she said, and even flat with dislike her voice was throaty and appealing. "Just in time for the end. Unfortunate. It would have been kinder if you'd remained insensible."

I was too busy staring at her lips to really take in the meaning of the words. My head was fuzzy and the look in those eyes wasn't helping matters. It was Thomas' voice that finally penetrated. My body reacted with automatic and visceral fear. Thomas had fed on my fear, sending me into paroxysms of terror so potent they'd managed to pry me from whatever had a stranglehold on my sanity. The fact he seemed disgusted by the emotion didn't do anything to ease the horror. My body remembered. It was going to be difficult to look at him and see a sex god anytime soon.

Assuming I lived long enough to recover, which seemed unlikely. The woman's words finally struck home, lodging like an icy weight in my gut. I was going to die, and I had to admit that part of me couldn't argue with the logic of it. You put rabid dogs down for a reason.

"You can't do this, Lara," Thomas argued. He was jogging to keep up with Lara, who was weaving through the daylit garden at a speedy clip. His face fell into shadow as we passed under a pergola teeming with ivy. "I gave my word to her father that I'd keep her safe. You know what that means."

"By all means fight me, brother mine, but it won't matter in the end. James and Franklin will have dispatched her before you can move toward them. And if you kill two more of my personnel I will be forced to punish you. Your little doe has taken enough of my people already. She has even slaughtered a member of the house. I cannot let an insult like that go unanswered."

"She wasn't in her right mind."

Lara raised a perfectly arched brow. "And that is supposed to convince me? It's another tally in favor of her death, Thomas."

Thomas' face was paler than I'd ever seen it, and there was a hint of desperation in his eyes. They'd bled to a luminous silver at Lara's words. When he spoke, the words were low and persuasive. My stomach turned. Was he really using his incubus mojo on his own sister? Lara screwing her father into compliance was one thing. Sick but practical. This...this was just wrong.

"Just think," he pressed. "She didn't do this to herself. Someone set her up. Stop and think about the who and the why. Do you really think I'd have dragged her here if I'd known she would kill one of the house? She was meant to be an assassin, but I doubt Felicia was the target."

Lara came to an abrupt halt, and only McGregor's quick reflexes kept my nose from touching her sculpted back. I was close enough to smell her perfume, something heady. Sweet and vaguely floral.

"If not us, who?"

"Until yesterday evening she'd been in Summer, kept safe by the Summer Lady's largesse. Who do you think she was meant to kill?"

Lara's eyes widened a fraction. "One of the Summer queens?"

The thought send fresh terror streaking through me. Lily? Someone had meant to send Lily's head rolling across the floor, instead of Felicia's. Which meant...

"If Lily died, her mantle would leap to the nearest compatible body. After years of exposure to her magic that would be Molly. Someone was trying to install a new Summer Lady. If they'd succeeded..."

"They'd have a foothold in Summer," Lara finished. "Empty night."

"Think of how grateful the Summer Lady will be to know you averted a potential disaster," Thomas wheedled. "One could imagine she'd bestow favors on the person who undid the damage and prevented further harm to her subject."

Lara's lips quirked in a bitter smile. "That's rather opaque for you, Thomas."

"It's the truth. If you put a bullet through her skull or send her to the White Council, and no one will believe you. Deliver her alive and she'll be proof of your claims."

Lara spared me another glance. My knees threatened to buckle again. Damn vampires.

"What do you suggest?"

"I'll undo it or die trying. A win for you, either way."

Lara's lips pursed. "And you will receive the reward if you survive. I don't think so."

She turned to me and took a deliberate step forward. I followed the motion, transfixed like a rat before the snake. She spared the guards a glance, but her focus was on me.

"Hold her, James. And Franklin?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"If she makes a move toward Thomas and I, shoot her."

"Of course, ma'am."

Lara took another step, and we were close enough our breath mingled. Hers was even, and mine was coming in labored gasps. I could barely breathe past the cloying scent of her. She leaned close, her lips hovering over mine. When she spoke her words were a sensual caress.

"Let's see the damage, shall we, little doe?"

She kissed me, and the world went white.