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Archer and the last thing I remembered was him
stroking my hair and saying he loved me. I thought I heard the door
open and Archer’s voice rumble in his chest, but I was so deeply
asleep it felt like dreams.
    I snapped awake just before dawn, which I
knew only because Archer told me he had to sleep.
    “Are you better?” I asked.
    “I will be when I see you tonight.”
    “Thank you.”
    I could feel him smile as he drifted off to
sleep, and I carefully uncurled myself from his side and locked the
door to the keep behind me.

 
Breaking the Spell

    I found Ringo in the library, up on a
ladder, looking through old World War II books.
    “He’s sleeping,” I said when I came in. I
handed him up a cup of coffee with lots of fresh cream and sugar,
and he took a satisfied sip.
    “Peace offerin’ or bribe?” He came down the
ladder and sat on the edge of the table.
    “Peace.”
    He nodded once. “Accepted.”
    “Thank you for giving him blood.” I searched
his face. He looked tired and pale, but otherwise unscathed from
his donation.
    He shrugged. “Ye do what needs doin’.”
    “Archer’s right. We have to find Tom,” I
said.
    Ringo’s eyebrows arched up in surprise.
“What changed yer mind?”
    “Seth Walters wants him. He’s willing to
trade kidnapped mixed-bloods for him.”
    He narrowed his eyes. “Ye wouldn’t be
tradin’ Tom back to that monster.”
    “Clearly not. But what’s so important about
him that Slick would make that kind of deal? It seemed like he
thought he could take over control of the Council if he had Tom
with him, like they’d be afraid of Tom’s power. And how does Slick
know he’s still alive anyway?”
    Ringo looked thoughtful for a long moment as
he sipped his coffee. “‘E’s got the mixed-bloods for sure,
then?”
    I ran down the same conversation I’d had
with Archer the night before, and Ringo looked a little sick when I
described the crumpled remains of the Aston Martin and the
condition of Archer’s body when he collapsed in the back of the
van.
    “It’s good that Walters is on the run at the
moment, but ‘e should be banned from Council. And if it really was
yer mixed blood that kept ye safe from that ring and its power to
compel, then rescuin’ those other mixed-bloods and bringin’ them
out of the woodwork is the key to leashin’ the Mongers.”
    I stared at him. “That’s it! That’s why he’s
been taking mixed-bloods! They can’t be controlled with the ring.
This is huge, Ringo, because it means there’s a way to stop the
Mongers.”
    His eyebrows rose in surprise and he
regarded me for a long moment. “It’s an interestin’ theory, but the
only thing ye know for sure is that the ring didn’t work on
ye.”
    “But it makes sense, doesn’t it? The Mongers
want power and control. They get power when they can control the
Families, but if mixed-bloods are unaffected by the ring, they
can’t be controlled.”
    He didn’t look convinced. “What’s to stop
Walters from just killin’ all ‘is prisoners, if they are still
prisoners? I mean that many mixed-bloods on the open market, and
‘e’ll ‘ave problems tellin’ anyone what to do.”
    “That would be mass murder.”
    Ringo scoffed and tossed his head at the
World War II book on the table. “I’ve been readin’ yer ‘istory.
Ye’ve ‘eard of the frog in the water theory of war, right?”
    “Throw a frog in a pot of boiling water and
he jumps right out?” I said.
    Ringo finished. “But put ‘im in cold water
and turn up the ‘eat slowly, ‘e’ll stay in that pot until ‘e
dies.”
    “I know that’s what Hitler did, but what
does that have to do with the Mongers?”
    “Ye ever ‘eard of a little thing called the
Mixed-Blood Moratorium? Or ‘ow about the Death Edict for Vampires –
technically, they’re mixed too since ye ‘ave to be a Descendent to
be infected.” He looked me straight in the eyes. “The ‘eat’s been
being turned up for ‘undreds of years.