He wanted to reply so scathingly that he would be able to see the marks his words left. He wanted to drain her where she stood, make her a vampire, and then stake her. In the red haze of his rage, he knew that he would not be so furious if she were not right.

She had done something beyond stupid, but no matter how angry he was, he did still want her. Now that she stood before him, full of remorse, Klaus found his anger slipping away. He realized his battered heart would never leave him in peace if he didn’t at least try to forgive her.

“Enough,” he told her, his voice rough with the things he would not say. “I believe that you regret what you’ve done, but that does not make it any less final. I cannot live with the uncertainty of your loyalties, Viv. This wavering between the Navarros’ side and mine has to end.”

She lifted her eyes to meet his, disbelief showing in every line of her delicate face. “I’ll end my engagement. I would not have come here if I wanted to marry another man.” Her smile was like the last flare of the sun setting, like the sight of the first stars beginning to show in the sky. “I know every part of myself now, Klaus. Mortal enemies or no, there is no part of me that does not love you.”

“Come inside,” Klaus whispered, and she burst forward into his waiting arms. He kissed her and folded her tightly against him, and then he tipped her head back to kiss her again, more deeply this time. There in the shadow of his home, with the warm breeze grazing their skin, he allowed himself to believe that it might be just that easy.

“I will break off this madness today,” she mumbled into his chest, “all of it. I can be back here by nightfall.”

He stroked her raven hair, the wheels of his mind turning. This revelation would change the political landscape of the city—if he could choose when to make this news public, it could be a powerful advantage. And the cynical, wounded part of Klaus longed to know, would she really keep her word once she had more time to think things through?

“Not today,” he disagreed, pushing them gently apart and kissing her palm reassuringly. “Viv, if you want to throw in your lot with mine, I want proof that your mind is made up.”

She frowned quizzically. “But I just said I would—”

“Not that.” He shook his head. “I need you to do as I ask, not to simply run off and do what feels best to you.” Again, he did not add, but he knew that they were both thinking it.

She looked uncertain, but not entirely unwilling. “You want me to hide this,” she translated. “You want me to lie, so that you can control how the truth comes out.”

“We have a foothold now,” he explained, as much to himself as to her. “We can use this information to carve it deeper. And if you mean what you say today, you will wait until I tell you it is time.” A week ago, he hadn’t cared about Elijah’s plans—he’d been blinded by his overpowering feelings for Vivianne. But now Elijah’s line of attack was taking a shape and Klaus found himself being caught up in making it a reality.

But most importantly of all, Klaus’s love had already blinded him once. He would not be so reckless a second time. Not even for her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

THE COUNCIL MET every month on the night of the new moon. Klaus had discovered the location of the meeting somehow, and Elijah was pleasantly surprised to see his brother’s renewed dedication to their family’s cause. Working with Klaus was infinitely easier than working against him. Whatever had convinced him to tread more carefully, Elijah approved.

The handful of witches and werewolves in the room—the most senior, the most respected—did not look pleased to see him. They sat in a wide semicircle in the nave of a church on the eastern outskirts of the city, which had been abandoned when the congregation had grown to need a larger space. Every candle holder in the room had been put to use, and Elijah could detect the lingering smell of incense.

At a glance, he could tell that none of the councilors had expected to see him there, and Solomon Navarro and his two sons looked like they were seriously considering trying to throw him out.

“You should have died,” the broad-shouldered younger one snarled. Elijah remembered him pushing other werewolves aside to join the little skirmish that had broken out during the engagement party.

“I would have, I’m sure,” Elijah replied coldly, “if any of you were strong enough to kill me.”

“What is the meaning of this?” Ysabelle demanded, rising to her feet. Her auburn hair shone red in the candlelight, and her face was tense and afraid. Elijah suspected that her conflicting loyalties must not seem like the wisest idea now that she found herself in a room with the vampire she had helped, the werewolves who wanted him dead, and the witches who would require an explanation for all of it.

A black-haired woman, as tall as Ysabelle and similarly featured, laid a restraining hand on Ysabelle’s wrist. “It is not the first time that this vampire has come before us,” she reminded the assembly in a carrying voice. She didn’t stand, but she didn’t need to. It was obvious from the stillness that came over the room that she had a great deal of authority. “It is possible that he may have further business here.”

“What I would like,” Elijah told her, ignoring the glares from other parts of the semicircle, “is a seat at this council. I believe that it’s time my siblings and I had a voice in this city’s affairs.”

The reaction from the werewolves was so violent that for a moment Elijah thought that they had somehow changed. “He attacked us!” Armand’s reedy voice shouted above the crowd, and Elijah saw some faint cuts and bruises still healing on the young werewolf’s face.

Klaus must have beaten him quite thoroughly, Elijah decided with a satisfied smirk. He would have to make sure to tell him; it might be a small consolation to his brother. Elijah had been delighted when Klaus had told him he was giving up his pursuit of Vivianne, but he also respected how painful that decision was to make.

“A simple misunderstanding,” Elijah lied. “I find it difficult to communicate nuance to werewolves under the influence of a full moon.” He glanced at the witches, and risked a sly wink at the dark-haired one. He thought he saw her lips twitch in response. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“That misunderstanding should have cost you your life,” Louis Navarro growled. “I’m sure we could arrange to correct that oversight right now, if you would like.”

“Sit down,” the witch told him sharply, without even bothering to look his way. To Elijah’s surprise, the Navarros sat. “State your case,” she ordered, “but do it quickly. We have other matters to attend to tonight.”

Finally, he could place the powerful witch: She was Sofia Lescheres, née Dalliencourt. Her husband had been Quentin Lescheres, a werewolf who had been too far on the periphery of the Navarros’ clan to build peace on the strength of his marriage. He had died young in any case, killed in a hunting accident before Vivianne had reached a year old.

His widow was one of the main architects of the alliance with the werewolves, of course, since it involved her own daughter. But Sofia did not seem overly fond of them, and Elijah made a mental note to shake Klaus until any scraps of information about Vivianne fell out. Their own doomed romance was over, but if the girl’s mother was a key player, then Klaus might know something useful without even realizing it.

“Madame Lescheres,” he acknowledged politely, and then nodded in turn to the rest of the assembly. “It is a simple enough matter. I represent a faction of supernatural beings who reside in this city. We have been here nine years, and now we are landowners. We intend to stay, and we deserve a place among you.”