 lying was what I loved best. Coasting through the midnight air, mountains rippling beneath me like sheets on a clothesline, I could lull the Fury to sleep and imagine myself a guardian angel, keeping watch over my charges as they slept. It was late spring, and while the snow caps had shrunk on the highest mountains, the air was still quite chilly. At my altitude, the temperature was low enough to freeze my breath and dust my face with frost, but the cold didn't really bother me. I felt as though I could explore the polar ice caps in nothing more than a thin sweater. What a wonderful body I'd been given! Laughing, I rolled over on my back to watch the moon swim alongside me.
Whap! Something brushed across my face, thin and leathery but with thorn-sharp edges. A bat wing, I thought, and let out a very unheroic squeal. The animal darted away from my flailing arms, then paused just beyond my reach, making a noise that sounded for all the world like laughter. "Shoo!" I hissed, and lunged toward it to frighten it off. But the bat only backed off a few paces and "laughed" even harder. I must have invaded its territory, I told myself. But as much as the thing disgusted me, I didn't have the heart to kill it for doing what came naturally. The best I could do was fly away and hope it wouldn't follow. The bat squeaked as I took off, then darted after me, pulling up alongside my head and scolding me with its high-pitched chatter. Annoyed, I sped up to outdistance it, but it continued to follow. I accelerated to full speed, and still it stayed with me. No ordinary bat can fly this fast, I thought, and braked with sudden realization. The bat shot past me, then veered back around and hung before me at face level. It was quiet now, as though sensing my thoughts, and I could have sworn I read anticipation in its face. "All right," I said, feeling a little silly despite myself, "what are you trying to tell me?" The animal gave a single, high-pitched squeal, then circled my head and darted toward the ground. Taking that as an invitation, I followed it down to a stony saddle between peaks. The animal swung to a halt a few feet above ground level, and then it began to change. Its body swelled, its fur vanishing beneath smooth, pale skin, which in turn disappeared beneath a white silk shirt, black vest, and black pants. At the same time the bats wings withered, their talons lengthening into fingers, while its legs stretched out to fill black leather boots. The tiny rodent snout retracted into a strong, handsome nose and coolly smirking lips. Long, straight, black hair flowed from a now-human head, and gray eyes shot through with sparks of pure, supernatural silver regarded me with what could have been smugness or amusement. This all took place within the space of two heartbeats. When the transformation was complete, the new-formed man stepped forward and bowed deeply. "I must apologize, my lady, for such a rude introduction. I'm afraid I could only reach you in bat form, and could only talk to you in human form; but I had to find some way to get your attention before you flew away." He smiled, and I caught a not-unexpected glimpse of razor-sharp canines. "Well, you certainly did that," I laughed, more at his exaggerated courtly attitude than the humor of the situation. Was he putting on an act for my benefit, or did he really talk that way all the time? Well, I supposed the attitude did go with the costume, and with the role he'd chosen for his life here. "I take it you're a vampire," I said dryly. The man grinned and cocked his head in affirmation, then spread his arms and made a circle, inviting me to take in his full appearance. Not that there was anything spectacular about his back; thankfully, he'd stopped short of tying on a cape. I would have dismissed him as a showoff if I hadn't caught the gleam of self-mockery in those silver eyes. And I couldn't deny that he was handsome, or that he had a certain charisma despite his attitude. "But I haven't introduced myself," the vampire said when he'd completed his turn, "My name is Aedros." "Kyriel," I answered, smiling in spite of myself. "Kyriel." He rolled the name around in his mouth like a fine wine, then swallowed it with a smile. "I'm afraid you have me at a bit of a disadvantage, Kyriel. You see, I've been very forthcoming about my nature, but all I know of you is your penchant for examining the stratosphere up close." His eyes twinkled. "And don't try to tell me you're human; I can see the sparks in your eyes as easily as you can see mine." I raised an eyebrow and tried to match him sarcasm for sarcasm. "Why would I try to tell you I was human? They're not normally found at that altitude." "It's been done." The canines flashed again. "With all the spells and amulets lying around on this world, I wouldn't be surprised at anything I saw a human doing. But you haven't answered my question, Kyriel." I was still trying to decide if I should. I'd been in R2 less than a month now and hadn't revealed myself to anyone except the Sultana, who would never have a chance to betray me, anyway. All my other encounters had been with natives of R2, people who were preconditioned to hate my kind. Aedros, though, would be different. Being a vampire, he'd have just as much of a stake in secrecy as I did. And he wasn't likely to fear me anymore than I did him--unless, I amended, he was a murderer. All I knew about Aedros' kind came from books and movies in R1, and no two of them agreed completely in their depictions of the vampire lifestyle. In some fiction vampires were monsters, and in some they were heroes; in some they killed, and in some didn't. What a real vampire was like, I couldn't be sure. I could only hope the heroic portrayals were the more accurate in Aedros' case, because if they weren't, my nature demanded that I destroy him. Worse yet, it was a nature I hadn't fully given in to yet. The only thing I'd killed since entering R2 was a mountain lion; I had no idea what it felt like to kill a person. And looking at Aedros now, smiling and handsome as a GQ model, I sincerely hoped he wouldn't be my first. Maybe, I reassured myself, he had a really small appetite. Maybe he needed just a quick nip on the neck and a few sips from some woman as attracted to him as I was (I mentally kicked myself at that thought). That would be all right, I thought. That wouldn't upset the Fury. I had to know, though, and better to do it now before my attraction grew any stronger. I decided on a gamble. Looking my gaze firmly on his, I smiled and said, "I'm a Fury." Aedros' eyes widened. "An avenging angel," he said with relish. "How exotic. I've never met one of your kind before. You'll have to tell me all about yourself." It was a response that revealed nothing, only deepened my unease with its assumption that I'd spill my guts at his whim. I'd lost the gamble, and now I had to pay up, one way or another. But, I thought, I could make sure Aedros paid, as well. "I assume you'll do the same?" I tried a seductive smile. "Of course," the vampire practically purred. "But why should we waste time on this barren mountaintop when my home is only a few miles away? I'd be delighted to show it to you. If you'll follow me, my lady?" He leapt into the air, his body resuming its bat shape in less time than it had taken to become human. Then he was winging east, and the Fury urged me after him. I thanked God and the Guardians that Aedros couldn't talk and fly at the same time. It gave me a chance to mull over my situation on the way to his mountain eyrie. Point-blank questioning was clearly useless with him. If the vampire really was innocent, his larger-than-life attitude would make any truth seem like a lie; and if he was guilty, any lie would seem as plausible as the truth. If only I'd rolled the gift of discernment on that last die in the Guardian's chamber, when I'd already determined my role in R2 and had moved on to specific abilities. Until tonight, I'd been perfectly content with what I had rolled, but if I were able to judge Aedros' character with a glance, I wouldn't have to play along with this silly charade. For the first time in my life here, three gifts per supernatural seemed like an unfairly small number. Then again, I told myself, Aedros would have only three, as well. And I'd better learn what they were, too, in case I had to fight him. If he really was a killer, the only reason he'd invite a Fury home with him would be to kill her. I needed to know what I was--maybe--up against. Mentally I paged through my R1 folk knowledge about vampires. How much of it was accurate, I couldn't know, but it was all I had to go on. And the bat thing had proved true--in Aedros' case, anyway. Could I assume that was one of his three gifts? It would make sense from an R1 perspective, as only some fictional vampires possessed that ability, and almost every R1 legend seemed to have its roots in R2. Now, what other vampiric traits appeared in some stories but not all? Fear of garlic and crucifixes. Control over rats. The ability to turn into a dog or wolf--or was that part of the same gift that let Aedros turn into a bat? I was definitely working blind here. Aversion to sunlight. Mist form. Slipping through tiny cracks in doors and walls. Hypnotism. Maybe the size of the appetite was a gift, as well, or the frequency with which the vampire needed to feed. Running down the list increased my confidence, but I knew my knowledge was far from complete, and it was always possible that real vampires possessed abilities R1 authors had never considered. I chewed my lip as I gazed at the small, furry form ahead of me. If desire alone was enough to read minds, I would have known every thought in the vampire's head. Even so, there was one fact I could be absolutely certain of. If Aedros did intend to kill me, he would be just as anxious to learn my abilities as I was to learn his.
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 he vampire's eyrie came into view about ten minutes into our flight. Rising proudly from the depths of a gorge, an obsidian pillar stood hip-deep in raging water, immune to both time and erosion. Incongruous in appearance but somehow wholly natural, it looked as if it had been summoned from the depths of the earth in a single, magnificent block which had stood unchanged for aeons. Yet a series of crystalline formations along its sides and top proved, on closer examination, to be turrets; and the dark recesses of windows wound a third of the way down its length.
In horizontal space, the castle didn't take up much room, barely more than a medium-sized R1 house. But if its chambers reached as far down as the windows suggested, it could be as much as twenty stories high--and that on top of forty more stories of solid stone. It was an amazing work of art, and brought to mind the second-most-magnificent castle I'd seen in R2: the Sultana's. I wouldn't have been surprised to learn they'd been created by the same person. West of the pillar stretched a town that could have been as ancient as it was, though it hadn't aged quite as well. Stone walls were scored and pitted and covered with moss, and houses showed layers of repair consistent with centuries of habitation. Nevertheless, most roofs were freshly thatched, candles burned in windows, and farm animals lounged silent in new-built pens. I tried to imagine what it must be like for these town-dwellers to always live in sight of that dark eyrie. Judging from its unclimbable sides, the original owner must not have liked visitors. The place was accessible only by air. But, I reasoned, if that owner or his/her successors had been truly malevolent, would the townspeople have stayed so near? Maybe this was the proof I was looking for that Aedros wasn't a killer. Then again, humans in R1 had refused to abandon their homes on Mount St. Helens when geologists warned them it was about to erupt. Would R2 natives be any less stubborn? I longed to go down into the village and check for barred windows and bundles of garlic, but that was impossible. Even as the thought occurred to me, Aedros had settled onto the eyrie's parapets. Warm golden lamplight spilled from cut glass windows, spotlighting his change. I settled next to him as he finished, cocking one knee and looking over the edge. "Great view," I offered. "Kind of makes you feel like the ruler of the world, looking down on the peasants like this." Aedros refused to take the bait. "No more so than flying over them," he said, teasing me with his eyes. "But let me show you inside." He extended his arm, and I led the way across the balcony to a set of open patio doors. "One good thing about living up here," the vampire said as I stepped inside, "I never have to lock up when I leave." I could see why he'd be tempted, though. The place was a baroque treasurehouse, from the burnished mahogany furniture to the gold statuettes to the jeweled wall lanterns. Richly woven oriental-style rugs sectioned the single huge room into library, den, and sleeping area. In the corner, an enormous king-sized bed lay swathed in silk and shadows: Aedros had brought me directly into his bedroom. I shot him a suspicious look, but he just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "It's the only room fit for company," he said airily. "I hardly ever visit the rest of the castle; it's all dust and cobwebs. But we can relax by the fireplace and pretend we're in a cozy little sitting room downstairs. Just let me start the fire." He gestured casually toward a jumble of logs in the cold hearth, and they burst into flame. That wasn't in any of the R1 books! Aedros cocked an eyebrow as I gasped. "It's not your standard vampiric gift, I know," he smiled, "but it certainly comes in handy." "I'll bet," I murmured, aware that he'd only pulled the trick for my benefit. The question was, was he simply showing off, or was this a warning not to cross him? If the latter, it was a bold move; I wouldn't have revealed my gifts so easily. Aedros was either truly innocent or sinfully confident. "Have a seat, please." He gestured me into a plush velvet chair. The fire crackled merrily beside me. "And now, I think, something to drink." Between our seats, a dark green bottle sat chilling in an ice bucket filled with snow. Aedros pulled it out and wiped off the excess ice, revealing a liquid far too opaque to be wine. Suddenly my seat was a lot less comfortable. My host, however, was oblivious. Plucking a pair of crystal goblets from the mantel, he handed me one with a flourish. Then he unstopped the cork and tilted the bottle toward my glass. And there he paused. "Forgive me, Kyriel," he laughed, shaking his head as if he'd only just realized what he was doing. "I'm afraid I'm not being a very good host. Do you prefer blood or wine?" "Oh, wine, I think." I surprised myself by chuckling. Aedros' face was a mask of polite innocence, but he didn't fool me for a second. Then again, he wasn't really trying to. Even as I laughed, the sly curve of his lip gave him away. He was teasing me-- flirting--and I was actually almost enjoying it! "I do apologize, dear lady." Aedros bowed deeply, taking the opportunity to recover his poise. "I suppose I assumed, since your kind has a thirst for killing, that you'd also have a thirst--" He pulled up short, looking like he would have given anything to manage a blush. "Well. Give me a moment to go downstairs. The previous tenant here kept a cache of fine wine, which I, of course, haven't touched. I understand it's a very good year." He returned the bottle to its bucket and backed into the stairwell, bowing again as he disappeared. My chuckles evaporated with Aedros' presence. The bottle still lay before me, more unnerving than ever without that dark hair and sly white smile to mitigate its presence. This is an investigation, Kyriel, not a date, I told myself. Now, stop acting like a giggly teen and remember what you are. I got up and took a good look around the room. No doubt Aedros wouldn't have left me alone if he thought there was anything for me to find, but I wasn't about to let a little detail like that stop me. This was the best chance I'd have all night. I started with the fireplace, checking it for hidden flame jets or magic devices, but there were none. As far as I could tell, Aedros really had lit the fire on his own. Then I moved on to the bed, reasoning that it would be best to get this part of the search out of the way before my host returned. If I had to be caught snooping, I wanted it to be anywhere but there. Despite its location in the corner, the bed was easily the most eye-catching object in the room. Thick swaths of silk poured down from the ceiling, draping gently over the canopy frame and turning the whole into a sort of miniature sultan's tent. The outer fabric was a rich wine red, the inner a mellow gold which perfectly matched the thick braid and tassels at its edges. The bedspread, too, was red and gold--brocade--and decorously turned back to reveal perfect silken sheets and mountains of pillows. All in all, the scene reminded me a bit of display models I'd seen in department stores. And with that thought, inspiration struck. Smiling a little, I leaned forward for a closer look, then nodded with satisfaction. There were no obvious signs of dust on the fabric, but there were no signs of anything else, either--no hair, no clothing lint, no signs of wear and tear. Experimentally I bent close and sniffed the pillows, praying my host wouldn't pick that moment to walk back in. Bedding that has been slept on has a certain scent, regardless of the sleeper's personal hygiene. Aedros' pillows, however, smelled like nothing at all. I stood up, feeling a little ill. Don't tell me he really sleeps in a coffin, I said to myself. That would be just too cheesy to handle. But despite Aedros' obvious affinity for clichés, I couldn't see him going to that extreme. For one thing, he hadn't stooped to a cape, and a coffin was a hell of a lot sillier than that. Plus, it wouldn't make much of a bed, and the furnishings of Aedros' apartment told me he was a man who valued comfort. The only reason someone like him would use a coffin was if it was a requirement of his nature, and I doubted that was the case. Aedros had become a vampire the same way I'd become a Fury, with the roll of a die. He was no more undead than I was, so he shouldn't need a coffin. Yet he did need to sleep, or so I assumed. There was no basis in vampiric folklore for me believe otherwise. What made the bed unsuitable, then? Well, there was one answer I could think of, and I liked it a lot. Unfortunately, I wasn't at all certain it was right. I was no Sherlock Holmes; I couldn't rattle off every possible conclusion and pick the right one by process of elimination. All I could do was make an educated guess and hope that if I was wrong, it wouldn't matter. Sighing, I stepped away from the bed and moved on to the walls. A place like this was almost certain to have hidden passages. But as I ran my fingers over the smooth, dark stone, I couldn't find so much as a chisel mark. The castle's architect had seemingly created it in a single piece. Even the lantern hooks grew straight out of the walls like branches from a tree. "Looking for secret passages?" Aedros' voice sounded behind me. "Most of them are downstairs." Well, at least he didn't catch me sniffing his pillows. I forced a flirtatious smile over my embarrassment and slowly turned around. "Only most of them? Then some, at least, must be here." "We-e-ell, not on the floor, at least." As he spoke, he brought out a very dusty bottle of red wine and poured a glass. "You've got to think like the builder, Kyriel. This whole castle is made to be accessible to one particular kind of person--" The answer flashed across my mind like a comet. "A flyer," I answered promptly. "They're on the ceiling, aren't they?" The vampire looked surprised, maybe even stunned. "You're very good," he said after a moment, smoothing his features into an expression of appreciation. Then he gestured toward the fireplace and handed me my glass as I returned to my seat. "As a matter of fact, Kyriel," he purred, pouring his own glass from the other bottle, "you might even be as good as me. Do you think so?" If that was meant to be more flirtation, it was a misguided attempt. I couldn't quite suppress a smirk as I answered, "Years ago, perhaps. I'm better now." Aedros laughed loudly, his canines glinting in the firelight. "Beauty and confidence, a wonderful combination." He swirled the congealed blood around in his glass, then held a finger beneath it. A tiny flame grew from its tip and he idly turned the bowl above it, warming the contents until the air was full of the scent of copper. I dragged my eyes away before he drank. "Are you up for a challenge, Kyriel?" Aedros said after a moment. My gut clenched as though a snake slithered through it. So this was it. "Always." I said, bolding meeting his silver gaze. "Good." Aedros settled back further into his chair, the picture of friendly relaxation; and my muscles, which had already started to tense, twitched uncertainly. "I've been completely open with you since we met, sharing my nature, my abilities, my home. Yet all I've gotten in return is your name and your role in this world. Not exactly a fair exchange, is it?" He leaned forward, his eyes glinting in the firelight. "So I propose a challenge. I will tell you what I've deduced of your secrets, and you will tell me if I'm right." The snake twisted again, but I kept my face calm. "That doesn't sound much like a challenge to me." "Ah, but then, Kyriel, you'll have the chance to do the same to me. Fair enough?" He leaned back in his chair again, a smiling predator confident of his prey's response. And I knew he had me. How could I resist, when he'd just dangled my own secrets in my face? I had to find out how much he knew. I took a sip of wine to cover my unease, but I barely noticed the taste. Then, when I thought I had myself under control, I lowered the glass and smiled. "Go ahead." Aedros steepled his fingertips and half-closed his eyes. Maybe he was thinking of Sherlock Holmes, too. "First of all, you haven't been a Fury very long. You hide it well, but you're not quite comfortable with your role yet, and the sight of blood disturbs you. I can't help wondering how many kills you've made so far." He regarded me carefully, raising his eyebrows as though waiting for an answer. Having already anticipated the worst, I wasn't too surprised at this revelation. It took only a little effort to keep myself from fidgeting. "Go on," I said, and took another sip of wine. "Since you are a supernatural, you must have three gifts. The first is clearly your human form, as Furies traditionally have a much different appearance. I assume you can shift shape at will. But since your present body has no wings, I must conclude that your second gift is the ability to fly without them." This was more disturbing; he really was good. But I took what comfort I could in the fact that he hadn't hit this nail on the head. My second gift wasn't just flying, but the ability to use nearly all my gifts in human form. If Aedros couldn't see that, then he didn't know as much about Furies as he thought. "And my third gift?" I murmured, praying he hadn't caught on to that one, as well. I didn't see how he could have, but.... The vampire gave me a long, slow, confident look, like a cat with a cornered mouse. Holding his gaze was an effort, but I managed somehow. Finally Aedros sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Ah. There, I admit, I'm at a loss. Care to enlighten me?" Thank God. Relaxing, I let my eyes wander to my chair arm and traced its woodwork with my fingertip. Let him sweat awhile, I thought, and smothered a grin. Finally I lifted my head and gave him a teasing glance out of the corner of my eye. "If you go first, I'll consider it." The vampire was amused, but not in the way I had intended. "My dear," he laughed, "you've already had a taste of it--didn't you notice?" Then he was all sympathy. "Oh, I see you didn't. Well then, I'll just have to demonstrate it again a little later." He brushed the matter aside with a wave of his hand. "But now it's your turn. What have I given away all unknowing?" Again I bowed my head. Frustrating as Aedros' reply had been, it told me one thing, at least. If his third gift was one he'd already demonstrated, then I was right about why he didn't use the bed. Warming my hands over the fire of that knowledge, I looked up into the vampire's eyes. "All right," I said, "let's start with the obvious. You've been in R2 much longer than I have--" "Forty-seven years." "--and you wear your age very well." Aedros inclined his head in appreciation of the ad lib. "You'd like to be Romanian, but you're not. Ditto for being English. Your mannerisms are too exaggerated to be real. My guess is you're either American, French, or Italian." Now it was the vampire's turn to try to hide his surprise. But he raised his glass in a mock toast and said, "Vive la France." "Yes, I thought so." I allowed myself a moment to savor the revenge, then took a deep breath. "The only other thing I've noticed so far is that despite all your years in R2,"--I paused and shook my head pityingly--"you know a lot less about Furies than I do about vampires." Aedros narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips as he thought this one through. Finally he nodded. "Yes, I suppose that's true. But I hope to learn more very soon." And as he smiled and met my gaze, I felt as though he were conceding the battle. Was that all there was to it? I thought. I allowed myself to relax a little, just enough to appreciate his strange charm. Women must be falling over themselves for a bite from him. Unconsciously I raised my chin to expose more of my throat. "So tell me something, Aedros," I said lazily, "where do your clothes go when you shift to bat shape?" "Where do your wings go when you shift to human shape?" The vampire raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Everything stays with us, no matter what our form. It's just that not everything is visible at the same time." His lip curled handsomely. "It saves a lot of time, not having to undress before one changes." With an effort, I pushed aside the image that brought to mind. After all, this was still an investigation. "And does your strength stay with you, too? I mean, I assume you were strong enough as a bat to fly that bottle up here, but could you, for instance, lift a person?" Aedros licked a drop of blood from his lips, his eyes never leaving mine. It was clear that he didn't like the question, but his answer seemed truthful enough. "No," he admitted, a bit grudgingly, "I couldn't. Everything you see here, except for a few odds and ends, was brought up by previous tenants. I can only carry about ten pounds in bat form." At that, I relaxed even more. Surely Aedros wouldn't have answered so honestly if he'd known I was assessing his battle capabilities. So maybe there was no battle in the works. I hoped that was the case. It would be so nice to forget about fighting for awhile and just enjoy my host's company. Aedros watched me over the rim of his glass. "And what about you, Kyriel?" he said softly. "How much weight can you carry--in either shape?" Well, I had no reason to lie, either. "You know," I cocked my head, "I've never tried to find out. I think I could lift a man even in human shape." At that, I let my lips curl just a little. "Why? Do you want to try it out?" It was meant to be a joke, but I found myself hoping he'd say yes. "Yes," said Aedros. "I do."
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 is muscles were taut and well toned, flexing beneath his shirt as I circled his chest from behind. Then his arms came down over mine. Despite his lack of body heat, there was nothing unpleasant about his touch, and I found myself stifling an urge to giggle. "Ready?" I asked.
"Absolutely." We crouched together on the balcony, bodies completely in synch, then sprang upward toward the stars. For a moment all I felt was lightness; then Aedros' unexpected weight hauled me back with a jerk. For the first time I realized why my own weight dropped away the moment I became airborne: my wings were never meant to be as strong as my arms; I had to become lighter just to lift myself. Add another person to the equation, and the result was downright painful. I wasn't about to look like a failure in front of Aedros, though. Back and shoulders straining with effort, I fought for altitude...and slowly gained it. We rose about thirty laborious feet before Aedros turned to look at me from the corner of his eye. "How are you doing?" he asked. "All right," I grunted into his hair. Then common sense cut in. "But I don't think I can keep this up much longer." "Let me go, then. I'll just fly back down. I don't want you to hurt yourself." The last sentence squashed my pain like a steamroller. "No," I answered through gritted teeth. "I can make it." We came down rather faster than we'd risen, and the landing was a bit harder than I would have liked. As I loosened my grip on the vampire's chest, he turned and took hold of my hands. "That was exciting," he said, a little too kindly. I didn't try to let go. "No, it wasn't," I grimaced, but my irritation was already fading. "If I'd been in Fury form, I would have had more strength." "But I like this form." He raised one of my hands to his lips and delicately kissed a finger. I sighed. "It's much more attractive." He kissed another finger, then ran his tongue lightly along its length. "It tastes better, too." I closed my eyes and drew a shuddering breath. I hadn't even known hands could feel like that. His tongue slipped between the two fingers and I eased them into his mouth, exploring his fangs. Aedros growled, half playfully, half hungrily, and pretended to try to bite them, but I withdrew. "Inside," he murmured, and steered me backwards into the room. As we passed through the doorway, I let my third gift stream out behind us, just as a precaution. Then I gave up all thought of battles. By the time we reached the bed Aedros had finished with my fingers and moved on to the tender inside of my forearm. I freed my other hand and reached up through his hair, taking hold of the back of his head. Then, hardly knowing what I was doing, I pulled him toward my throat. Aedros struck quick as a snake, but I was the one who hissed. |
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