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more evil, and Lysander knew it was the latter that troubled them all.
     
    What kind of creature could be more evil than vampires?
     
    Whatever it was, Lysander understood that the Alliance would indeed be necessary to defeat it. Even so, he was still skeptical of the mortal’s ability to represent them in such an important occasion. “She needs to have someone to guide her about the rules of our world---” He stopped speaking at the smile that Milo gave him.
     
    He always had the deepest respect for Milo although many of the older High Circle members despised the other man for his homosexuality. Lysander didn’t give a fuck about it. Milo had more than proven his worth in the battlefield, his courage unequalled, and that was all that mattered to him.
     
    In a voice that rivaled Lysander’s with its smoothness, which instantly put him on guard, Milo said, “I have already considered that, Lysander, which is why I think you – as the one closest of age to Misty – would get along best with her and together the two of you will make the best pair for representing our race.”
     
    ~~~
     
    Misty jerked in her seat with a gasp, causing Daryl, seated next to her, to gasp as well. The sounds echoed throughout the cavernous hallway, where they had been waiting for the High Circle’s summons for over half an hour.
     
    “What is it?” Daryl demanded, jumping to his feet, his eyes darting nervously around. Nowadays, most of the Faeries were jittery as their race’s impending formal alliance with Lyccans and Caros had become public knowledge.
     
    She slowly shook her head, unable to pinpoint exactly what had made her cry out as if someone had stabbed her. One minute she was all right, and then the next moment she wasn’t, as if half of her soul had been torn away.
     
    Domenico. It had to be him. Did it mean he had read her letter? Tears stung her eyes at the thought.
     
    “Misty?”
     
    She lied, “Somebody walked over my grave or something.”
     
    Daryl returned to his seat. “Oh.” A hesitant expression crossed his face as he turned to her. “Maybe…it’s done?”
     
    “What’s done?” She frowned when she saw how Daryl looked like he suddenly wanted to take his words back. “I don’t understand---”
     
    “The cutting of ties, Misty,” Daryl said softly. “Maybe it’s done.”
     
    Her senses started to fade into numbness as the full import of Daryl’s words sunk in.
     
    Just then, the huge twenty-foot doors in front of them finally opened, pushed by a pair of uniformed guards. Magenta, the only member of the High Circle whom Misty knew personally aside from Milo, came out with a kind smile on her wrinkly old face.
     
    “It has been approved,” she told them with a beam.
     
    “Thank the stars,” Daryl exclaimed as he exchanged air kisses with Magenta.
     
    “Thank you for supporting my plea,” Misty said fervently, stepping forward to hug the older woman after. Although Daryl’s partner, Milo, was one of the most powerful Faeries in the realm, he was also one of the youngest and more controversial members of the High Circle. His vote alone would not have swayed the elders to approving the alliance without Magenta’s help.
     
    “It is for the good of our race as well, Misty,” Magenta answered. “However, the High Circle thinks it is best that our race is also co-represented by one of our own. I hope that is fine with you.”
     
    She nodded quickly. “Of course.”
     
    Magenta ushered them inside, saying, “From here on, you will be accompanied by one of our younger members.”
     
    “Milo?” Daryl asked immediately.
     
    The older woman waved one bejeweled hand in negation, the long silk bell-shaped sleeve of her amethyst-colored robes falling to her elbow. Like all members of the High Circle, Magenta was dressed in the traditional attire of Faeries, which - to Misty’s inexperienced eyes - appeared like a fusion of medieval and carnival, because of its Old World style