“My uncle’s guards drew their poniards and fell upon me.” Stefan answered my unasked question in a dry tone. “The very same guards sworn to my father’s service not a month beforehand.” He touched his chest and his back and sides—here and here and here. “There were many of them. Although I fought, they slew me.”

I found my voice. “But you came back.”

He gave a brief, brusque nod. “Yes. On my bier in the chapel. I returned to myself. Alive, awake . . . and Outcast.”

There were a few thousand questions knocking around in my thoughts, but they were banging up against a pretty strong sense that Stefan Ludovic was gently but firmly closing the door on this conversation. He’d opened himself up to me as much as he was going to today, which, frankly, was a lot.

I mean, seriously . . . Stefan was basically freakin’ Hamlet, only less indecisive? That was huge.

“Thank you,” I said to him. “You didn’t need to tell me that.”

“I know.” He held my gaze. “You’ve shared a great deal with me, Daisy, much of it not of your choosing. I wanted to do this.”

“I’m grateful.”

“I did not do it to earn your gratitude.” Stefan’s expression was unreadable, but I could sense the hunger behind it.

Damn. Maybe he really did have feelings for me.

If he did, it didn’t appear that he was going to declare them today. I let the silence stretch between us. When it became obvious that he had nothing further to say, I returned to the original topic. “Okay, well, I’m going to Bethany Cassopolis’s rising in two days,” I said. “Any advice?”

Stefan frowned. “A newly turned vampire’s rising is a volatile time,” he said. “Physically and emotionally. While it may be a transformation of their own choosing, no one is ever truly prepared for it. Many panic upon rising. I would offer to accompany you if I thought it wise . . . but I fear I do not.”

Good to know. “No problem,” I said. “I’ve got backup.”

“The lamia?”

I shook my head. “The cop.”

“I see.” Stefan steepled his fingers. “I would not anticipate difficulty. The newly risen possess considerable strength, but it takes many years to develop more dangerous skills, such as vampiric hypnosis, to their fullest potential. The others will be prepared to manage the situation, and it is my impression that Lady Eris is competent in ministering to her brood.”

“So I should just . . . let it happen?” I asked.

He gave me another of those centuries-old, gap-spanning looks. “It has already happened, Daisy. You are merely there to observe the culmination as a courtesy.”

“Right.”

We gazed at each other.

“You should go,” Stefan said presently, his pupils waxing, stabilizing with an effort. “My control is . . . strained.”

I stood, hesitating. I couldn’t resist asking. “Okay, look, I’m sorry, but . . . is it about you? Hamlet?”