Bonarata had been coming to visit Marsilia when he’d happened upon a terrible wreck. The mate of the oh-so-famous Adam Hauptman was dying from a tragic car accident. He had scooped her up and taken her to his home, where the healer in his employ had fixed her up. Having done so, he was concerned lest more harm come her way—as her rescuer he felt some responsibility for her continued safety. He therefore invited both Marsilia and Adam to come to Milan and convince him that Mercedes would be safe in their care. He allowed them two people each as well as the pilot and copilot of the airplane.

Wasn’t that just swell of him? The problem was, the Lord of Night really was powerful enough that it was necessary to play his game as long as he was willing to avoid outright attack. Adam hadn’t just taken Marsilia’s word about that—he’d called Charles. And information wasn’t the only thing he’d called Charles for.

“I need a pilot,” Adam told the Marrok’s son, after absorbing everything that Charles knew about the Master of Milan. They both knew he was asking if Charles would be that pilot.

“Da says I can’t do it.” The edge in his voice told Adam that Charles wasn’t happy about that. Adam didn’t even ask how Bran had found out about Mercy. Adam’s pack knew, and someone would have called the Marrok to keep him informed. The Columbia Basin Pack might no longer be affiliated with the Marrok—but habit was a difficult thing.

Charles continued speaking. “He is keeping his distance from you to save us all, he said. Too many people know me. He is right about that. He said that it’s likely Bonarata expects me to be your pilot; otherwise, he wouldn’t have made such a direct reference to the flight crew. People like him don’t pay any attention to the staff.”

Of course. Adam had missed that. He’d been distracted.

“He’s right,” Adam said. “Of course he is right. And if you are not a surprise, then you become . . .”

“Da called it a ‘complicated hostage,’” Charles said dryly. “I told him that I could protect myself, and I got a lecture on diplomacy. Apparently that wasn’t the point. If I go, I become a thread that leads to my father. Which makes me very interesting—too interesting for the delicate balance of manners and power that Marsilia is organizing in the hopes of getting everyone, including Mercy, home safely. He might be willing to throw everyone else away for a chance to take Da down, so I have to stay here. I might chance it anyway, but as it happens, I’ve had a run-in or three with Bonarata; he knows my face.” Charles cleared his throat. “Da told me to tell you that he very much expects and trusts that you will get Mercy home safely.”

At that point, Adam hadn’t slept since the vampires had taken Mercy, and it was beginning to affect him. But he was still sane enough to trust Bran’s judgment. “If he says you wouldn’t be an asset, he’s probably right.” Where did that leave him? Oh, yes. “So do you know of a plane we can hire to take us to Italy? Someone who won’t be surprised or worried about carrying vampires and werewolves?”