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Imagined knowing the joy of.”

She took his hand and threaded her fingers with his. “That’s something you and I have in common. In my old

world, I didn’t feel like I belonged.” She took a deep breath and made the decision. She wanted him to know.

She needed him to know. “Hecate explained to me part of the reason I felt so out of place—because I was

meant to be her Empousa in this world, that I carry the blood of a High Priestess in my veins. But there’s

another reason. It’s why I never let anyone, especially any man, get too close to me. It has to do with my

blood, too.” She studied his dark eyes, silently pleading with him to understand. “The women of my family

are tied to roses through their blood. If we feed roses water mixed with our blood, they grow. Always

—incredibly. In the mundane world, what I could do was unheard of—outside of the women in my family, no

one would understand. It made me feel like I was a freak. I had to hide my secret.” Worried by how still and

pale he had suddenly become, she felt herself shrinking inside. “I wish you’d say something. I’ve never told

anyone else.” When he still didn’t speak, she started to move away from him, but with a low growl, he pulled

her fiercely into the protection of his arms.

“You did not feel accepted there because it was your destiny to be Hecate’s Empousa—to come here and to

save the roses and their lonely Guardian. The blood that runs through your veins is this realm’s life force, and

It is your love that sustains us.” He closed his eyes and buried his head in her hair, willing himself not to

tremble . . . willing himself not to think . . .

Mikki relaxed and fitted herself more comfortably against him. “It still amazes me. If the exact sequence of

events hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t be here.” She leaned back in his arms so she could look into his face and

wondered, briefly, about why he still looked so pale. “You know, it was my blood that woke you up.”

file:///C:/DOCUME~1/Mary/LOCALS~1/Temp/Rar$EX00.281/P%20C...

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“I did not know.” His voice was gravely. “I just know you roused me and that I could smell your scent and

knew you were Hecate’s Empousa.”

“Actually, that’s one of the weirder aspects of what happened. Just that day an exotic old woman had given

me some perfume. On impulse I wore it. As strange as this sounds, it is the same scent I’m wearing now. Gii

calls it the Empousa’s anointing oil.”

He frowned. “How can that be?”

Mikki shrugged and nestled back against him. “I have no idea, but she was really eccentric. And beautiful,

even though she was old. She had the most incredible blue eyes. She was foreign, but I couldn’t place her

accent. She said she got the perfume . . .” Mikki had to stop and think about what the woman had said.

“Somewhere in Greece, if I remember correctly. What I do remember for sure is her name, because, like me,

she’s named after a rose—Sevillana.”

Sh3">бЂ†e felt the jolt of shock jerk through his body. She pulled back to find him staring at her with an

unreadable expression on his unnaturally pale face.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“It—it is . . . nothing. Nothing is wrong. I am only surprised that a woman in the mundane world would carry

the anointing oil of Hecate’s High Priestess. It is a mystery.” He wrapped his arms around her. “Lie against

me. Let me feel your body touching mine.”

Mikado lay on his chest, and as he caressed the long, graceful line of her back, his mind whirled

unbelievingly. Sevillana . . . the name had sent shockwaves through his body. It was she! He, too, would

always remember the cold beauty of her calculating blue eyes as well as her name. The last Empousa was still

alive in the mundane world. How could it be possible? Time moved differently there, he knew that. But at

least two hundred of that world’s years must have passed. Perhaps the absent Empousa had taken more with

her through the crossroads than a vial of anointing oil. Perhaps she’d managed to steal some of the realm’s

magick.

Then the enormity of the truth sifted through his shock. Sevillana lived! In the spring when an Empousa must

be sacrificed for the realm it would be Sevillana and not Mikado who must die. All he need do was to find a

way to return the absent Empousa to the Realm of the Rose. It had to be possible. Sevillana had

escaped—she could certainly return. He held Mikado more tightly. That was his answer. He would not

sacrifice Mikado. He would exchange her for the errant High Priestess, returning Mikado safely to her home

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