“There’s no phone here! When you said it was medieval, I had no idea how literal you were being.”

He shrugged. “Send a message to the pilots to call them.”

“I did! He hasn’t sent a message back.” Makeda kicked the stone wall, and Lucien gently moved it back into place with a touch. “What is McTierney thinking?” she griped.

“Makeda?”

“What?”

“I’m not going to do this.”

“What?”

“Placate you when you’re determined to be irritable.” He walked toward the open door of the tower that led back to their chamber. “I can think of far better ways to make you relax if you’re interested. If not, then I’ll leave you to rant.”

Her eyes flashed, but she didn’t take the hand he held out.

“Fine.” He turned his back to her and walked to the head of the stairs.

“Lucien.”

He turned.

“I hate that I’m not running this trial. Everything about it is out of my control. I can’t monitor the patients. I have no idea whether a slight change in a single drug could affect how the treatment goes.”

“I know.”

“I hate feeling helpless!”

He walked to her and put a hand on her cheek. “My love, I know.”

“How can I be so powerful now and so much weaker at the same time?”

He brought his arms around her and forced her stiff body into a hug. “Something has to keep you humble, Dr. Abel. You’d probably become insufferable otherwise.”

“You mean like you?”

He couldn’t stop the smile. “We’ll know when we know, Makeda.” Lucien drew her mouth to his in a kiss, hoping to sooth her troubled spirit.

“Very philosophical, Doctor,” said a voice from the courtyard.

Lucien looked down, and even in the gloom and shadows, he could spot the flash of bright hibiscus and hula girls.

“Are you still wearing those hideous shirts?” he called. “Hasn’t your wife confiscated them by now?”

Quick bursts of fire flew from a small woman at Carwyn’s side to the torches set in the walls of the fortress. “I burn one up and he finds another,” Brigid said. “I’ve given up at this point.”

Lucien let out a breath. He’d been a little wary that Giovanni Vecchio might join them despite the scholar’s normal aversion to violence and politics. If Carwyn was around, Vecchio often was as well.

But so was Arosh. And two male fire vampires in one war party was never a good idea.

Luckily, instead of his friend, the Welshman had brought his wife. Brigid and Arosh would rub each other the wrong way—most fire vampires did—but they weren’t likely to kill each other. Especially with Carwyn to keep Brigid occupied and Saba to distract Arosh.

Lucien turned his head toward the slow, familiar step he heard on the stairs. Baojia walked through a shadowed doorway, his eyes locked on Makeda. She turned immediately and flew to his arms.

“Heya, Mak,” he said quietly, wrapping his arms around Lucien’s mate.

Makeda laughed and cried at the same time, holding on to her sire with both arms. “I didn’t know you were coming. I’m so glad you’re here.”

Lucien couldn’t resent the obvious joy and affection between them. Baojia might not have been Makeda’s master, but his blood still flowed in her veins. When Lucien walked toward his old friend, he felt nothing but profound gratitude. For Makeda’s life. For Baojia’s friendship.

Baojia released Makeda and held his hand out to Lucien, but Lucien enveloped him in a hug.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “I can’t even tell you how much.”

“So you finally figured it out, huh?”

Lucien pulled away. “You knew.”

“Of course I did,” Baojia said. “I’m not an old codger like you, but I’ve got eyes in my head.” He smiled at Makeda. “I’m happy for you both.”

“We didn’t know you were coming,” Makeda said.

“I made a promise a long time ago,” Baojia said. “Someone called it in.” He squeezed Makeda’s hand. “Plus I had to make sure you hadn’t killed Lucien yet.”

Makeda laughed and wiped her eyes as Carwyn and Brigid joined them on the rampart.

“So what now?” Makeda asked. “Are we the JV team or something?”

Lucien frowned. “The what?”

Makeda shook her head. “Never mind. We don’t have a wind vampire anyway.”

“Says who?”

Lucien looked up and saw the ancient, birdlike woman perched on the top of a tower. He hadn’t heard her or felt her when she arrived. But then concealment was one of Tenzin’s skills.

“I told you someone called in a favor,” Baojia said. “Apparently she didn’t trust me to follow through.”

“Don’t be offended,” Tenzin said. “Besides, my presence here serves several purposes. None of which you want to be without.”

Lucien said, “Are you and Ziri going to argue?”

Tenzin curled her lip. “Is he here?”

“He’s part of the new council,” Makeda said. “Who are you?”

Tenzin flew down and danced in the air before Makeda. “Officially? I’m a representative of the elders of Penglai Island, who will establish a relationship with the new council of Alitea as soon as Laskaris finally kicks it, thereby solidifying the council’s position as the equal and balancing power to the elders in the East.”