Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Graydon stiffen, and—God love him, he was no actor—he turned homicidal. Sharply, she said in his head, Do your job. I’ve got this.

Gray growled to Tiago, “I need a word with you. Now.”

Meanwhile, Pia drew her fingers across the imposter’s lips. “It will be my pleasure to celebrate in any way my lord sees fit.”

Chapter Nine

Nearly twenty thousand people gathered along the shore of the lake to party. Musicians brought their instruments, and bonfires were built. There was dancing, and all manner of food was hastily assembled. The Demonkind brought barrels of liquor. And if there were no children present, and if one or two people looked at the imposter with troubled, cold expressions, nobody remarked upon it.

Pia excused herself to put on makeup and dress in a skirt and halter top. She pinned up her hair and let loose tendrils fall down on her neck, and she painted her lips with her favorite lipstick. Skeeter was restless while she prepared, whining and growling at turns while he paced. Afraid that the imposter might harm him, she made Jocasta and Ramone take him away.

And she flirted with that bastard with everything she had. She fed him bites of pastries, and grilled meats, and kissed him in between drinks of wine, and let him fondle her breast. She had never fought a war like this before, but she threw everything she had into it.

He laughed often, that thief of everything. Amber eyes flashing, he spoke with many, and his restless gaze roamed over the females in the crowd with speculative intent, but his gaze always came back to Pia.

How long would it take for Tiago to fly to the nearest crossover passageway? She knew the approximate answer to that one: it took Dragos a couple of hours to fly here. But Dragos had been moving at a leisurely pace. Tiago would be flying with all the strength and speed he could muster.

Then it would take him a few minutes to confer with Malan, and another five to ten minutes to cross the passageway back to Earth. He could call New York from the Earth-side guard station. And she knew from experience the sentinels always kept go-bags packed and could mobilize in an instant.

But she didn’t know how long it would take Aryal to retrieve the shackles from wherever she might have hidden them—if she had in fact hidden them and not destroyed them, as she had promised. And Pia had no idea how long it might take them to negotiate for a quick passage back with a Djinn.

Each beat of her heart felt as long as a year, and the burden of continuing without the support of feeling the mating bond weighed heavily. That was the thing about fighting a war—you never knew if you would live or die.