On the far side of the room, another door stood open. Noiselessly, Craig crossed to it ... looked into a bedroom. A sleeping-couch, all gold and white, rested against the far wall, framed in darkly glinting mirrors.
While he watched, the coverlet moved. A body shifted.
Gripping the fire-gun, Craig walked warily to the couch-side.
Black hair rippled against white pillows. A sleek body twisted—sensuous, cat-like.
Then the head turned. For the first time, Craig saw the face.
A woman's face. The face of evil, incarnate, living in the fleshly form that men called Lady Vydys.
Yet she was lovely. Even here, even now, Craig Nesom's heart pounded as he looked down on her.
He rested his weight against a chair-arm; raised the fire-gun. "Vydys...."
She stirred in her sleep. The shadow of a frown crossed the lovely face.
"Vydys!"