"The Queen is sleeping," Dmitri heard the door open from the grand hall and went to double check, making sure the ones entering the palace were authorized to do so.

"Can you get a message to Trevor?" Garde asked. Trevor was a former assassin for the Council on Earth. Now he worked as Sheriff for Casino City.

"Of course. What should I say?"

"That we have three rogues loose. They were among the nineteen hired to attack Lissa today. Only sixteen were killed. We have the masterminds in the dungeon."

"Did any other Council members from New Hesperia know anything about this?" Dmitri asked.

"The Council members didn't. I intend to question some of the other citizens of New Hesperia to see if they knew anything or failed to come forward with information. I am quite angry over this." Garde proved it by blowing smoke. "I will check on Lissa before going home."

"I'll come with you," Erland said. Rigo and Thurlow refused to be left behind, and Aryn went, too, since the others were going. All walked swiftly and determinedly toward Lissa's suite.

"Roff, I only wish to check on Lissa," Garde opened the door halfway. Roff was in the Queen's bed, with Lissa tucked against him.

"Come ahead, her healer-mate placed her in a healing sleep. She will not wake." Roff turned on a bedside lamp.

"There's my girl," Erland breathed, sitting on the side of the bed and reaching out to touch Lissa's cheek.

"Did you find the ones in Casino City?" Roff asked quietly.

"We did. They're in the dungeons now," Garde replied. "But there are three other rogues who escaped. We have vampires hunting them now. I want to take Lissa to Kifirin with me, but I think I'd have a fight on my hands at the moment," he added. "The breaching of the walls and the attempts on her life worry me. Dmitri has an extra shift on guard duty. If you need me to take her out of here, get someone to send mindspeech."

"I can take her to Karathia just as easily," Erland murmured. He hadn't informed the others, but Wylend was sending out Warlocks. There would be dead Solar Red, Black Mist and Red Hand by morning.

Rigo watched enviously as the little Queen, a bare shoulder peeking from beneath the sheet, slept against the winged vampire's chest. Thurlow watched Rigo, Roff, Erland and Garde, but held his face expressionless, as always.

Garde led them from Lissa's suite after a while, and Roff tilted his head to kiss the top of Lissa's head, mumbling words of love to her. Roff hadn't failed to notice that he'd been the first one Lissa had turned to mist earlier in the day, making sure he was safe from the arrows. The others had followed swiftly, but Heathe and Davan had walked too far ahead, preventing Lissa from getting to them sooner. Davan had paid for the trust he'd displayed with his life.

"I know you love me," Roff said softly, stroking a cheek. "And I know you loved my child. Both my children. I do not know of any other comesuli who can say as much." Roff leaned over and turned off the lamp. He hadn't needed the light to begin with—it was only a courtesy to their visitors.

"Gardevik, how is Lissa?" Glinda watched Garde's face as he sat at the kitchen island, a sandwich on a plate in front of him. He was tired and hungry—he hadn't eaten since early morning.

"Not that well—you know about her uncle who was killed." Garde bit into his sandwich. At least their cooks and kitchen help were very good, now.

"Yes. And I heard that Roff was with her when this happened. How is he?"

"Better than Lissa. She told him about Toff not long ago. He still has not gained his full memory, but he feels the betrayal anyway."

"Poor Toff. If someone did that to my girls," Glinda was as close to blowing smoke as Garde had ever seen her. She went Thifilatha when she turned—Glinda was the only female High Demon who'd ever done it. Female High Demons didn't turn as a rule. Garde wondered about her daughters, though, and if they might grow up with that ability.

"Anyone else would have killed over that," Garde agreed.

We held the memorial two days later and everyone in the palace went. They'd all liked Davan. He'd been shy and self-effacing, much of the time. Grant and Heath both spoke about what a good friend he'd been. Then it was my turn.

"I knew the moment I met him, that we were related," I said. "He bore the scent of my grandmother, whom I'd just met. Kifirin and I found him and the others—most turned as a convenience for the state of Beliphar. Most of you have no idea what I would give to have my uncle back again." I couldn't go past that—if I did, I'd break down.

Davan's ashes had been gathered and Jeral received them. He planned to take them to the light side of the planet, because Davan wanted to see the sun again. Since Jeral had been made Spawn Hunter, he could go wherever he pleased.

Griffin and Amara had come and they sat in the back, holding little Wyatt. My little brother. Well, he'd be kept away from me, more than likely. No justice in telling him what his continued existence with his natural parents had cost others. Of course, Griffin wouldn't be taking that chance. He and Amara folded away immediately after the service—they didn't even try to talk to me.

I went to find Kyler and Cleo afterward. "I want to take a little trip to the past," I told them. "I want to see my sister."

"I've been putting it off," Cleo nodded. "I'll feel better if you're both with me." Well, she'd never met her mother, either. She'd been taken by Griffin while still a baby in the hospital on Cemdris, and moved to Earth. She'd grown up with adoptive parents there, while Griffin removed the memory from his daughter that she'd birthed twins. Did my father have the talent to fuck up lives or what?

"Then we'll go," Kyler said, pulling me away from my thoughts. She was the one to bend time and fold space.

It was a spring day on Cemdris and we found ourselves in a park. Children were running and playing here and there in the warm afternoon sun. A woman sat on a bench nearby, watching a dark-haired child playing on the swings. She was tall, as Griffin was, and bore his brown hair and gold-flecked brown eyes. I stared at my sister Ardith, who'd been dead for centuries. She looked very much like my grandfather, the King of Karathia, and it made my heart weep—for myself and for Wylend. We'd never been allowed to know her.

"That's me on the swing," Kyler said softly. She stood between Cleo and me as we watched a seven-year-old Kyler playing. Griffin wouldn't be out and about—not during the day. He was vampire at the time.

"She was a physician and worked nights at the hospital, because that's when Em-pah could take care of me," Kyler sighed, gazing at her mother.

"You loved him then, didn't you?" I asked.

"Em-pah taught me so many things," Kyler said. "And he did love me. It's just that later, things went downhill."

"Yeah." I was in agreement with that.

Cleo had been staring at her mother instead of joining the conversation. She walked away from us, going toward Ardith. She sat next to her on the bench, too. Kyler and I followed.

"You're Ardith Endres, aren't you?" Cleo asked.

"Do I know you?" My sister turned to Cleo with a puzzled frown.

"No, I've heard about you from my sister, that's all," Cleo replied. "She said you worked at the hospital."

"Ah." Ardith thought she'd treated a family member or something. "How is your sister?" It was the proper question to ask.

"She's fine," Cleo said. "And this is my aunt Lissa." I nodded. Kyler had shielded herself, invisible to her mother.

"Very nice to meet you. What is it that you do?" she asked me.

"Oh, I'm a vampire," I said.

"Unlikely, since you're here in daylight," she smiled slightly.

"Well, that's how it started out," I agreed. "But not how it ended up."

"My father is vampire, that's in the records," my sister sighed.

"So was mine," I agreed. "We don't speak much, nowadays."

"Because he's vampire?"

"Because he doesn't tell me things," I said.

"Mine, too," Ardith agreed. "I think he keeps things from me, or uses the compulsion he has to make things come out the way he wants them to. I got tired of fighting it, after a while. I feel like a puppet and he's pulling the strings, making all the decisions. Sometimes I wonder how things might have been if he hadn't been turned."

"Same here," I said. "It gets a little old, using his kids to make things come out right."

"I loved him when I was little—he was up nights and he'd tell me stories at bedtime," Ardith had a faraway look in her eyes. "But when I grew up and got married, well, things changed."

"At least you had that love when you were little," I said. "I never knew my father growing up. I had a stepfather, who resented me because I wasn't his. I didn't meet my father until after I'd been made vampire. He sort of popped up, one day. And things haven't improved much since then."

"I understand. Look, it has been nice meeting you, but I have to get my daughter home and start dinner. Perhaps we'll meet again, someday." Ardith stood. "Kyler," she called. "Time to go home."

We watched as Kyler at seven jumped off the swing and trotted toward her mother. "Good-bye, Kyler," I said. "We'll see each other again, I promise." I smiled at her as she took her mother's hand and walked away.

"I remembered this day," the grown Kyler said, as we watched them disappear around a curve in the sidewalk. "I didn't know then why you'd be saying something like that to me."

"Now you know," I hugged her.

"Let's bend time again," Kyler said, and took us out of there. When we arrived at our next destination, it was night and we were standing in a street outside several small shops and eateries. Kyler, at the same age we'd seen her before, was sitting on a stool in a sweet shop, swinging her legs happily and eating ice cream. Griffin sat across a tiny round table from her.