Jeanne rounded on Tony, her good eye flashing in anger. "I beg your pardon? We had an agreement, Antonin!" He didn't recoil at her vehemence. Good. Jeanne could be intimidating, but they had to present a united front.

Walden tightened his grip on Evey, her body so warm against his, so alive. He could hardly believe that she was here. He hoped that it wasn't one of those strange, almost lucid dreams he sometimes had. "You said that Evey might be able to bear children, unlike you," he said calmly, "and you entertained the possibility that the ability might pass on to them, that they might become full Ancients themselves. Well, maybe she can, and maybe not, but I sure as hell am not going to let you find out."

"And here it comes," Darya said smugly. "I told you so, you naïve idiots. I told you they would betray us. They're too human; they don't think and behave like us. We need to kill them both and take the girl, find her another suitable mate, or perhaps Vlad should give it a go, we never know…"

"Don't be absurd," Jeanne snapped. "We're barren. You know that. We need Walden."

Darya shrugged. "For all we know, any vampire will do. But if you insist, we can simply kill your progeny – Lilith knows he deserves it – and keep the mongrel under mind control to force him to-"

"Darya!" Gorgo hissed. Her delicate features were set in an outraged expression. If Walden's calculations were correct, Gorgo was Vlad's maker, which meant that Darya was…her granddaughter, sort of. "Watch your language, young lady. And please refrain from speaking your mind without thinking and making such rash judgements. We must discuss this matter collectedly. Together." Darya pouted at the reprimand, but she said nothing.

"You deceived us," Alice said. She looked genuinely shocked, and disappointed. Walden felt a twinge of guilt. He understood what it meant to them, but they should have known that no man would allow his wife-to-be to become a vampire breeder, even if he was the one who impregnated her. Evey and he had already talked about children, and he had been relieved when she said that she wanted none – although she was still young, and he'd also been afraid that she might change her mind in the future. Now that he was a vampire, though, having kids was even more out of the question, in his opinion.

In any case, they couldn't use Evey's body for their own purposes. They should have seen that. They had deceived themselves.

"Ali, I'm sorry," Tony said. "And I realise it's going to make my case much worse than it already is, but you didn't seem interested in rescuing Evey for the sake of it, so…"

"So you decided to take advantage of us?" Jeanne exploded. "You are one of us, you ungrateful little–"

"I never asked for this." His voice was soft, but there was resentment in his eyes. "You asked them if they minded, but I never had a choice. You asked me if I wanted to get out of prison. I told you I'd rather get out of life."

Walden frowned. He'd considered suicide? Antonin? The notion seemed ridiculous. He'd always been so full of life, so optimistic. Then again, he couldn't begin to imagine what life must have been like in Azkaban for him. The few times Walden had been in contact with Dementors, the guilt and horror at what they'd done had been enough to give him nightmares for weeks. And Tony had had to live around the foul creatures for years, almost permanently, since he was locked up in the highest-security block.

He looked at his brother, but Tony was not done with Jeanne. "You deceived me. You promised me a better life, eternal life, and I assumed you meant death, oblivion, or whatever awaits us beyond the veil." He gave her a bitter smile. "You never corrected me. And then you just expected me to obey you." He scowled slightly, his twisted smile fading, turning upside down. "How is this life any better than the last?" he asked, his voice louder now, his tone sharper. "Thanks to you, instead of bearing the guilt for a few decades, it will accompany me for centuries, or even longer, should I be so unlucky. It doesn't matter that I'm out of Azkaban. I never needed the Dementors as a constant reminder of what I've done." He shook his head slowly. "And now I've even more things to feel sorry about." He cocked his head toward Walden. "I did to him exactly what you did to me. Turned him without his assent. Merlin help me, I knew he didn't want it, but I still did it." He eyed Jeanne. "You made everything so much worse for me," he went on in a whisper.

He raised a hand when Jeanne tried to speak into the brief silence. "I know you've made allowances for me. You let me find Walden and stay with him; you said I could join the Order and assist them, if I remained discreet." He ruffled his hair with both hands. "I don't blame you. It's not that. I just wish you wouldn't be so fucking hypocritical about what's happening now. Whatever I am, you made me." He stared at her, unblinking. "Whatever I do, you're as much responsible for it as I am. My whole cursed life is your responsibility."

Evey was weeping, Walden realised suddenly. Silent tears were trailing slowly down her cheeks. He held her even tighter, almost to the point of crushing her, but she didn't protest.

It had never occurred to him that Tony might be depressed, or to even use that word in a sentence together with the name of his brother. The very idea would have been unconceivable, even a few minutes ago.

"If I hadn't turned Walden," Tony went on – he was clearly determined to let everything out, now that he had started, "I would have been alone, more alone than even you can imagine. Everyone I used to call a friend now hates me. The people who harbour us despise me. And if we hadn't rescued Evey, or if we'd gotten there too late, Walden would have hated me even more than the rest of them put together."

Walden was about to protest, but he was abruptly reminded of his behaviour of the last months, something he'd completely overlooked at the time. He'd been execrable toward his brother, had blamed him at every turn, blamed him for everything. He was an Ancient, how could he have allowed Greyback to capture Evey? And Tony had taken it all stoically, all the while trying to comfort Walden and doing whatever he could to find Evey at the same time. Walden felt a strong rush of guilt, and felt Evey's arms tighten around him.

"You want to punish me for turning him?" Tony demanded. "Go ahead. I deserve it. But I would do it again, I told you that before. There was never an alternative."

There was a long moment of silence. It was finally broken by the Bloodmother. "There will be no punishment for anyone," she announced.

A few Ancients seemed about to object – the same as last time, Walden noticed; Cleopatra, Catalina and the woman named Liz, whose identity he still hadn't figured out – but one look from the Mother was enough to silence them. Darya seemed unhappy with the Mother's final decision, but she made no comment, this time.

"We are a family, Antonin," Gorgo added. She, on the other hand, seemed quite pleased by the Mother's judgement. "Your family. You are not alone. You never will be." She turned her dark, soulful eyes toward Evey and Walden. "Your friends are a part of you, and therefore there are a part of us. There are few enough of us as it is. It would be foolish of us to turn them away, just because they are different."

"We all share the same blood," Imhotep went on, "and we have all made mistakes."

"True words, my children," the Bloodmother concurred. "As for the matter of passing on your special ability, it was never my intention to create four different lines. I wanted you all to be equals, sharing in all my power." There were a few surprised glances at that. "The truth is that I have been, for too long, imprisoned in my own personal war against Malkoran – a war he hasn't deigned to acknowledge in a long, long time. This I deeply regret, for many more of us would have been turned if I'd permitted the inclusion of common mortals. But no. I wanted the best of what the world could give, and I thought the best were only to be found in the highest spheres; that renown and glory were necessary attributes for my offspring." She locked eyes with Tony, who held her gaze without flinching. "You have proved me wrong. You, and the people you call your own." She looked at them all, eyes wandering around the room. "Malkoran humoured me for years – centuries, perhaps – but he lost interest eventually. For a long time we fought to claim the most praised rulers, the best warriors or cleverest scholars for our own. We tied for many years, and even now, our numbers are even, but I have found that Malkoran doesn't care anymore. He has abandoned his Wolves. This, Hannibal relayed to me during one of our encounters. This lack of personal involvement has allowed some of his latest…recruits to go haywire. Greyback was not the first to go bad. It was the man who turned him who made the mistake of biting him in the first place, despite his obvious instability. I know that Edward now regrets turning Grigori, but he benefited from a worldwide reputation, which made him a natural target." She paused for a moment, eyes unfocused, seemingly lost in thought. "The Wolves who gave us assistance have handled the situation as best they could. Before they organised this little trip to Wales," – Evey glanced sharply at that – "Yes, child. They have given away his den's location at last, but to no avail. The place lies in shadows darker than the heart of Abaddon. It is inaccessible to us. Only you might find it again, should you wish to do so." Evey nodded hesitantly. Why would she ever want to go back there? Walden wondered.

"As I was saying," the Mother went on, "the Wolves attempted to contact Malkoran, to impress on him the fact that Greyback was getting out of hand. He made only a vague reply, telling them that they should handle the situation as they saw fit. It seems they are now divided in two clans: those who have voted that Greyback be left alone, unchecked, and those who believe that he should be put down altogether. The first undoubtedly fear that Malkoran might decide to involve himself in everyone's business, should he deign to address the problem. The others are genuinely worried that Greyback may, wittingly or not, reveal their existence to the world."

"They can't kill him," Evey murmured.

Walden might not have heard her, but for his newly enhanced hearing. "Why not?" he asked in a puzzled voice.

Everyone was looking at them now, some of them obviously shocked that Evey had interrupted the Bloodmother. "Say what you mean, child," she demanded, apparently unperturbed.

Evey let go of Walden reluctantly and turned to face them. "Because his fate is linked to mine. If you kill him, you kill me."

"You are not making any sense," Jeanne said with some irritation.

"Because you're not trying to understand," Tony retorted. "But you've apparently decided that you dislike her, so there will be no changing that." Jeanne frowned at him, but made no reply. She was obviously perturbed by what he'd said earlier.

Evey looked up at Walden. "Remember last year, when I was suddenly wounded and bleeding and we couldn't figure out why?" He nodded slowly. He was afraid he knew exactly where this was going. "He was taking a beating. Well, he was letting someone beat him, anyway. Same difference, I guess." She sighed. "It works both ways. Greyback realised that when we were fighting at the Ministry, when Rabastan tortured me with the Cruciatus Curse." Damn. Another piece of information that Walden hadn't been aware of. His fist contracted reflexively. If he ever got his hand on Rabastan… "That's why Greyback took me away. He couldn't risk me getting hurt – or killed."

And now they had no idea where he was, or what he was doing. Fucking hell. If they'd known about this connexion between them, they would have insisted that the Wolves arrest him, and make damn sure that Greyback was safely locked away. Now they would have to find the bloody werewolf and make certain that he was captured alive, for Walden would never rest easy until he was.