“Rearranging your books?” I asked as I took a step into the room.

Mira briefly glanced over her shoulder at me, and then turned her attention back to Tristan. “He’s been holding out on me,” she snarled. “He’s come here to kill me, take over my domain.”

“I would never do such a thing,” Tristan said in a rough, strangled voice.

“Lies!”

“Mira, what’s going on?” I asked in a low, soothing voice.

“He can move objects telepathically. He’s older than he claims to be,” Mira replied, her gaze once again slipping over her shoulder at me. There were dark circles under her eyes and a gray pallor to her skin. She looked nearly dead, as if she had neither eaten nor slept for days.

“I’m barely over one hundred years old,” Tristan pressed. The trembling in his hands had increased as we talked. He was growing tired and wouldn’t be able to hold the books up in the air much longer.

“Then how is it you can use psychokinesis?” she demanded, giving him a little shake. Her nails dug deeper into his throat, causing a small stream of blood to trickle down his pale flesh.

“I don’t know! I’ve been able to do it from almost the moment I was reborn.”

“Lies! I can’t! You’re lying about your age. Are you an Ancient?”

“No!” Tristan shrieked, jerking backward at what I knew was an absurd suggestion. I couldn’t read nightwalkers as well as Mira could, but I was willing to bet my life on the fact that Tristan was no Ancient. I believed him when he said that he was barely over one hundred years old.

“Mira, I believe him,” I calmly said. I walked into the room and placed my hand on her shoulder. “And you know that there has to be another explanation to all of this. Tristan is loyal to you. He would never do anything to threaten you.”

Mira’s face twisted in thought, as if she were fighting something. I let my eyes slip nearly shut as I reached out and subtly tried to slip into her mind. I had to know if the naturi had found a way to influence her. Again, I was hit with an overwhelming red haze of hunger. Her mind was a swirling whirlwind of broken and shattered thoughts. I caught glimpses of horrific images and heard screaming voices, until I felt a shudder skitter through my own frame. I pulled away reluctantly. I couldn’t sense any naturi in the area or within her mind. There was only Mira and her memories.

“Let him go, Mira,” I said, squeezing her shoulder.

“But…” she said in a soft, unsure voice as her wide eyes stared up at me. I could suddenly feel her terror cutting through the hunger, filling her to the point that it was blocking out all rational thought.

“Tristan won’t hurt you, I promise. I won’t allow it.”

She turned her gaze back to the young nightwalker before finally releasing her hold on his throat. His pale skin had cuts from where her nails had dug into his flesh. Tristan lowered his arms, allowing the books to slowly float down to the floor. He looked up at me, gratitude in his eyes, but he didn’t speak. We both knew that we were still walking on eggshells around the Fire Starter.

“Go to the kitchen and help Gabriel,” I said, giving him the opportunity to escape the room. “I’ll stay with Mira.”

Tristan nodded and quickly slipped out of the room, but the motion seemed to snap Mira from her brief moment of calm. Her head snapped up and she jerked away from my grasp. She trained her angry gaze on me as she backed to the other side of the room.

“Why? You want to try to kill me now?” she demanded, but before I could deny it, she whipped around to face an empty corner of the room. “Shut up! You don’t know what you’re talking about. Danaus would never touch her! He’s not like you.”

“Who’s here with us?” I asked warily, wishing I could pull a knife from my side, but I was afraid that the appearance of a weapon would set her off.

“Nerian,” she said in a low growl. At the same time, she did something very strange. She took a couple steps backward, with her hand behind her as if she was keeping someone behind her as a form of protection. Nerian wasn’t the only one that she claimed to see in the room.

“Mira, Nerian’s dead,” I said firmly.

“I thought so too, but he’s standing right over there,” she said, pointing with the hand that wasn’t still holding the imaginary figure behind her back. “He’s been with me all fucking day.”

“What do you mean all day? Another dream?”

“It’s not a dream! He’s standing right there!” she shouted, pointing at the open air again.

Frowning, I walked over to where she was pointing and stood in the exact spot. “He’s not here, Mira. You killed him. In July, you came to my house. You ripped out his throat and you burned his dead body to white ash. Nerian is dead and gone.”

The finger pointing at me began to violently shake as a single bloody tear slipped down her pale cheek. “But I can hear him. I can hear him laughing and mocking me. He’s convinced the others to kill me. To kill…”

“Who else is here with you?”

Mira looked down at the floor for a second, taking a step backward, as if to shield the invisible figure a little better. Her head suddenly snapped back to face me while her free hand pulled a long knife from a sheath at her lower back. “And you’ve come to kill us both as well!”

“No, I haven’t! Mira, you’re talking nonsense.”

“Of course you have. You’re a hunter. It’s what you do,” Mira sneered. With a scream, she lunged at me with her knife, preparing to separate my head from my shoulders. The only reason I survived the slash was that she was exhausted and not moving as fast as usual. I dove out of the way and rolled back to my feet, struggling not to draw a blade as well. I knew it would only make the situation worse.

A faint glow lit the nightwalker’s eyes as she stalked me in the small room. There wasn’t anywhere for me to go, between the chairs and the large desk that dominated the room. I stood my ground, trying to think of some way of snapping Mira out of her delusion. She came at me again, blade singing in the air as it sliced downward. I dodged it again, but this time she came back with a stabbing motion for my stomach. I barely managed to capture her wrist with both of my hands, stopping the tip of the blade just before it punctured skin. She pressed forward with all her remaining strength, and slowly started to win.

Clenching my eyes shut, I reached out with my powers and grabbed ahold of her. My energy flowed into her body, taking control of her. Mira let out another tortured scream that echoed through the house. She fought me, trying to push me out, but she was too weak. I hadn’t wanted to do this, but she had left me with no choice. Slowly, I got her to inch the blade away from my stomach before I was able to rip it out of her hands.

To my surprise, she rallied enough strength to grab the front of my jacket and toss me across the room, where I slammed into the bookshelves. A cascade of books fell on my head and shoulders as I pushed myself up into a sitting position.

“No!” she screamed, her face twisted in rage and fear. I looked down to find that I was sitting in the exact same spot she had been standing in only moments earlier. “You’ll not touch her.” Mira lifted both of her hands and massive balls of fire popped into existence. They spun around her body fast enough to make her hands dance slightly in the growing breeze. Her eyes glowed with a brighter light, but she seemed to grow even paler. She was going to collapse from exhaustion soon, but I was willing to bet that she had enough strength left to destroy me first if she wanted to. I could take possession of her again, but it would not get rid of the rage that was burning in her. It would not rid her of these enemies.

“Mira, we’re alone in this room. Who do you think I’m threatening?”

The glow dimmed slightly from her eyes, and she looked as if I had unexpectedly slapped her. “Calla’s here,” she whispered in a shaky voice. “He’s going to hurt Calla.”