“Have you stolen her capacity?” he asked.

That was definitely the super-sexy voice I’d heard on the phone. His tone reminded me of the one Graham had used when he confronted Williams and Kara in my living room — barely interested, yet menacing. So this was what Graham had been imitating. Palely.

“No, My Lord,” Kara said from behind me. “She consented, but she didn’t know how to share. It was hurting her, so I sedated her. She consented to that, too.”

You couldn’t mistake the fear in her voice.

There was one of those long pauses I remembered from talking to him on the phone. Then he looked back down at me.

“Is this true?”

I nodded.

I couldn’t have spoken for the world. He terrified me in a way Williams didn’t. With Williams, I was frightened of getting hurt, getting killed. Those were terrible things, but at least I could conceive of them. Cordus made me aware that I could suffer the unimaginable.

“Very well,” he said.

Kara let out a shaky breath.

He straightened and moved away from me. I stood up and did a quick survey. I was in the grand entryway of what seemed to be a large, opulent house. Everything was white marble shot with pale gray. The central space was at least sixty feet across. Matching staircases swept up either side. A massive silver chandelier sparkled above us, its tiny lights irregularly spaced. It was a beautiful room, but cold and impersonal.

Kara and Zion were standing behind me. Williams and Graham were standing behind them. Neither man looked happy to be there, but the similarity stopped there. Graham was trembling and looking down, clearly terrified. Williams, in contrast, was tracking Cordus like a wolf watching its prey for weakness.

Boy, talk about getting things mixed up — like a wolf stalking a T. rex.

The deer, still wearing the green man, was standing behind everyone, as though it had bolted for the door. It was clearly immobilized.

Cordus walked over to it. “A green man, hunting one of my people, within my territory. How singular. Your ambassador will have much to explain.”

He gripped the loose skin at the deer’s throat and tore the green man off of it. The deer collapsed and lay still. For a few seconds, the green man hung there like a flayed deerskin. Then it shivered into its familiar shape. Cordus had it by the neck. It dangled from his fist, for a moment, then began squirming and snapping and hissing.

Its talons caught Cordus in the side.

He flinched, then smiled and said, “That was ill-advised, young one.”

The green man brought its right hand up and flexed its clawed fingers. They were tipped with Cordus’s blood.