It was odd, talking about all of this to someone else. He had never sired another and had sworn he never would. He would never do to another what had been done to him, condemning someone else to a life with a mark that invited derision, fear, and often poverty.

It was as though she could hear his thoughts. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lily watching him with intense curiosity.

“And who are you, then, Tynan MacGillivray? You told me you’re not actually one of these Ptolemy you’re working so hard to protect. So what does your mark say to other vampires?”

“The most important thing it says is that I’m a lowblood.” He shrugged. “That makes me unworthy of notice to any but the Ptolemy, who tend to prefer my sort when they need people to do the jobs they don’t want to do. Every dynasty has their preferences. But Ptolemy, Empusae, Dracul, Grigori, and a few other smaller dynasties tucked away here and there, they’re where the power is. The highbloods, the ones from dynasties that can trace their roots all the way back to a specific god—or demon—are what you might think of as our aristocracy.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Uh, maybe I’m reading this wrong, but if these Ptolemy think you’re so worthless, why are you trying to save them?”

Ty passed another car in a blur, noting that he was doing ninety and might want to slow down a little. He tried to relax, to force himself to loosen up. Lily was only interested in the answers, not trying to judge him, he told himself. Still, it was difficult. He wasn’t used to being questioned. Loathed, yes. But not questioned.

“Because I’m a part of them, after a fashion,” he said, baring his mark again briefly to explain. “The ankh there—looks a bit like a cross with a loop at the top—came a few years after my siring. Arsinöe herself gave me just enough of her blood to force the mark.” He covered it again, unsettled by Lily’s keen interest in it. “I’m the queen’s personal hunter and am very good at what I do. I’m not supposed to save them, by the way. You are. I’m just facilitating.”

“Thanks for reminding me.”

He smirked at the testy note in her voice. “You don’t want the satisfaction of knowing that you’ve saved the oldest vampire dynasty, earning their queen’s eternal gratitude?”

“I would have preferred to have a choice.”

He felt a twinge of sympathy. “Sometimes you just have to accept the hand you’re dealt.”

“And sometimes you get abducted by some vampire bitch’s pet cat.”

Her words were unexpectedly heated, and they sliced through Ty even though he knew she hadn’t intended them to. She was just venting and looked lost in her own thoughts. But she couldn’t know how close her words hit to home. His animal side had condemned him to such remarks for centuries now: filthy gutter cat, pet of the Ptolemy, worthless stray…

“I’m no pet,” he growled. He was suddenly compelled to make Lily see, make her understand. Why he should give a damn what she thought was beyond him, but being called a pet rankled. Hadn’t Nero and his ilk said the same thing, time and again? He’d forced it to stop mattering to him. He’d thought himself immune.

And yet here he was, defending himself to this slip of a mortal. Ty thought for a moment, about how to explain it all to someone who had never lived in his world. Those who lived in the sun had, by and large, left the ancient caste systems behind. But in the darkness, the ancient world still lived and breathed. And so did their way of life.

“Look. When you’re a lowblood, you either struggle or you work for a dynasty. I’d rather serve, to be valued and rewarded for my talents, than starve and scrape.” He glanced at her. “Tell me you wouldn’t feel the same.”

Lily blew out a breath, shoved her hands into her hair. “I don’t know. I’m not a vampire. But… yeah, maybe. Maybe.” Then she muttered, “Sorry about the pet thing. Bad joke. I’m just… I’m not okay with this yet. This Arsinöe is screwing with my life, Damien and whoever he’s working for are trying to end it, and none of them even know me. Your queen can promise me whatever she wants, but for now, my life back in Tipton is in shambles. Still… I am sorry, for what it’s worth. You’ve been really nice. For a vampire kidnapper.”

It wasn’t complete vindication, Ty thought, but it was something. He relaxed a little. Lily, for her part, seemed to be thinking. She was quiet a moment.

Then she said softly, “So tell me about these Ptolemy. What is that, ancient Greek? It’s familiar.”

This, at least, was more comfortable ground. “Arsinöe is the youngest sister of Cleopatra. The dynasty takes their family name of Ptolemy,” Ty said. “Much of their lineage is Greek, which the average person seems to have forgotten.”

He could feel Lily staring at him again, but not in the way he might have preferred.

“Cleopatra’s sister.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re yanking my chain.”

“No.”

“This is… Look, Tynan, as a dork who doesn’t sleep enough, I admit I watch the History Channel, okay? I remember watching some show about this now. I knew I’d heard Arsinöe’s name before. They did a show on her. Cleopatra took out any threats to her power, including her youngest sister. Woman was way more of a stone bitch than I’d ever realized.”

“Trust me, it’s still a sore subject,” Ty replied, wincing a little as he remembered the last tirade Arsinöe had gone on about her celebrated, and very dead, elder sister. “And Cleopatra did have her assassinated. At least, she thought so. It was very bad form, to have high-value political prisoners of Rome killed. But as we all know now, Cleopatra was quite… persuasive. It’s an ugly story, and one I won’t recount, but as Arsinöe lay dying from her wounds, the gods took pity on her. Sekhmet gave her the dark gift, as the queen tells it. And in return, Arsinöe would keep the glory of Egypt’s gods and goddesses from vanishing into the dust of time.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I wouldn’t say they’d really gotten their money’s worth, then. Ancient Egyptian religion seems pretty dusty to me.”

“Among the Ptolemy, it’s very much alive. And that seems to be enough for the ones who made her.”

Lily’s voice sharpened. “And what about this whole highblood/lowblood thing? Branding servants? Treating people badly based on something they probably had no control over?”

Ty was torn between irritation that she’d decided to seize on that aspect of the situation and pleasure that she would be offended on his behalf.

“What about it?” he asked.

“Do these Egyptian gods and goddesses approve of that?”

“They must, I suppose,” Ty said with a shrug. “As far as I know, no one’s heard a peep in over a thousand years. Though even if they had…”

“Yeah, I get it. You’re not in the club, and you wouldn’t know.”

He glanced over at her as they drove down the highway, past an exit where the lights of gas stations and restaurants glowed cheerily, beckoning as they lit up the night sky. The fury in her expression surprised him, and it suddenly occurred to him how young she was and how old and cynical he had become. He barely remembered what it was like to have the sort of fight in him that Lily had now. Whatever she thought of the way things worked in his world, though, it didn’t matter. Vampire society simply was. It was dangerous to question the power structure, to question why one mark should be venerated while another should be spat upon.

Once, long ago, he had tried to rebel against the order of things, but now he recognized his lot could be far worse. He thought of the unlucky Shade whose punishment had been to be starved and then released as bait, and knew he was doing what he had to do.

“I don’t care what you think of the rules, Lily, because I didn’t make them. But there are plenty who enforce them. My options are limited, and I’ve done the best I can with them. Your mark is what matters in my world. And if you fight it, you don’t last long.”

They lapsed into silence, Ty lost in his thought as he drove. He had expected Lily to find his way of life odd, even unpleasant. But he’d been surprised at how outraged she was at what she saw as an injustice. He hadn’t wasted any time wondering what outsiders thought of vampire society in a very long time, likely because the only times he interacted with mortals was when he wanted a drink.

He needed to either get out more or not at all.

“Tynan?” Lily’s voice breaking through the silence was a balm to his thoughts, soft and sweet. It was the sort of voice that could lull a man and leave him vulnerable. He knew he needed to resist that, to stay on his guard. He tried to separate himself from the closeness of the car, from the tantalizing scents of the soap and shampoo that overlay her own natural ones. His mouth began to water despite himself, his fangs lengthening in response.

Hungry. She makes me hungry for so many things….

“It’s Ty.”

He didn’t know what had made him say it or why he was encouraging such familiarity with a woman who was a high-value mark, nothing more, nothing less. But the words fell from his lips before he could stop them.

“Ty?”

“It’s what everyone calls me,” he said, fighting not to hunch his shoulders defensively at the confusion in her voice. “It’s, you know, less cumbersome. And doesn’t remind me so much of my mother getting ready to box my ears.”

Lily seemed to consider this a long moment, and Ty cursed himself for showing weakness. What did he know about interacting with humans anymore, much less human women who he had no intention of biting? Now she would ridicule him or simply ignore what he’d said. Yes… maybe that was best.

But her voice was considerably warmer when she spoke again, and Ty felt something, small but incredibly important, shift ever so slightly between them. A mistake, but one that nonetheless thrilled him in some dark and secret corner of himself.