by Lisa Shearin
Page 19
“Mychael, I’m fine. Tam killed the Khrynsani to protect me. ”
My voice was firm and assured, and Mychael didn’t buy it for a second. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it myself. Mychael didn’t get to be paladin without being able to recognize black magic, stop it in its tracks, and take down its practitioners. He held out his hand to me, never taking his eyes from Tam.
I didn’t take his hand, I didn’t look at Tam, and I walked out of the alley without either one of them.
The city watch had arrived and were helping the Guardians clean up the mess we’d made. There was a wagon being filled with dead Khrynsani. Mychael came out of the alley and after a glance at me, went to speak with the watcher in charge. When Tam emerged, he stayed in the shadows until he reached his men, also known as our mystery goblin allies. They were standing to the side, out of the streetlights, and the boy was with them. Like Tam, they were armed for trouble and wearing dark, rough leathers— dressed for doing something you didn’t want anyone to see you doing.
“You okay, ma’am?”
It was Vegard. He was close enough to protect me, far enough away to give me space. I wondered if he could smell the black magic on me.
“I’m good, but I could be better,” I told him, glancing over to where Tam and his men had been standing. They were gone. I wasn’t surprised.
Vegard looked where I was looking and nodded. “I understand, ma’am. ” The blond Guardian’s ax was sheathed over his back, but the blade still held a faint glow. He hesitated uncomfortably. “You just let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. ” His voice was soft, but his pale blue eyes were solemn with resolve.
My throat felt suddenly tight. “Thank you, Vegard. ”
Mychael finished speaking with the watcher and crossed the street to where we were.
I took a breath and blew it out. “So, who was the kid?” My question sounded brisk and businesslike. Good for me.
“Talon Tandu. He works in Tam’s nightclub as a spellsinger. ”
I knew Tam valued his people. I wondered what my value was.
A dragon landed with a plume of flame. Kalinpar. I could swear he was grinning at me. I didn’t feel like grinning back.
“My ride to the citadel, I take it?”
Mychael’s expression darkened. “I want you out of the central city now. Kalinpar is the fastest—”
“And quickest way to get around,” I finished for him. “I know. Let’s just get out of here. ”
Chapter 10
“In my office, please. ”
That was a pleasant surprise. I half expected Mychael to say, “In my containment rooms,” without the “please. ”
Those were the first words he’d said to me since Kalinpar had landed with us in the citadel’s courtyard. While airborne, the noise from the wind had made it difficult to carry on a conversation. Difficult, but not impossible. Yet Mychael had been silent in the saddle behind me the entire time. I think he hadn’t said anything because he wanted to make sure that I heard every word he said.
I had a real good idea what some of those words were going to be.
Mychael kept up his self-imposed vow of silence all the way to his office. The Guardians we passed saluted their paladin, but no one said anything. They took one look at Mychael’s expression, made the smart choice, and kept their mouths shut. Guardians weren’t stupid. Mychael was keeping his thoughts to himself. I was doing the same. His thoughts were probably along the lines of getting an explanation from me.
I was thinking about possible escape routes.
Mychael closed his office door behind us and went straight for the cabinet where he kept the whiskey. Now there was a thought I could agree with. He started pouring himself a glass.
I plopped down in a guest chair. I wasn’t going to wait for an invitation to sit down that might not come. I ran my hands over my face and left them there. They could make themselves useful and help me hold up my head. I didn’t think I’d ever been this tired.
“Do I get one of those, too?” I muttered through my hands. “Or are the condemned not allowed a last drink?”
Moments later I sensed Mychael standing beside my chair. I opened two of my fingers and looked through. He held a glass of the blessed amber ambrosia in both hands, and was offering one of them to me.
I took it. “Thank you. I really need it. ”
“I imagine you do. ” Mychael didn’t go behind his desk to his office chair as I’d expected. Instead he pulled the other guest chair next to mine. He sat down with the weary sigh of a man who’s had way too much dumped on his already overburdened shoulders. I didn’t need a flash of brilliance to know whose fault that was.
I sat back in my chair and took a good, long swig. The whiskey burned all the way down, spreading wonderful warmth as it went. It felt good.
Tam’s burn had felt better.
I thought it before I could stop myself. I set the glass aside, suddenly feeling nauseous. Best to get it over with. “I bet you want to know what happened in that alley. ”
Mychael’s glass of whiskey sat untouched on his desk. “I know what happened; the question is, do you?” There was no anger in his voice, no edge of accusation, but some strong emotions lay just beneath his carefully composed exterior.
I had a good idea what had happened—and what had nearly happened—but I didn’t want to come out and say it. The answer just might earn me an extended stay in the containment room of my choice. Not to mention what had happened had been better than the best sex I’d ever had. Mychael so did not need to hear that.
“What happened wasn’t your fault,” Mychael said quietly. “It was the Saghred. Even if you hadn’t been caught off guard, it’s doubtful that you could have prevented it. ” His eyes were on mine. “But it’s something I can never allow to happen again. It’s too dangerous. ”
It might not have been my fault or Tam’s, but that didn’t change what had happened, or how good it had felt then, or how creeped out I was now. All that hot-blooded panting and searing and melding that Tam and I had done against that alley wall wasn’t just us. The Saghred had been there, between us. A threesome featuring me, Tam, and a soul-sucking rock. I wondered if I could get the rest of my drink to go when Mychael took me down to the containment rooms.
“Mychael, I’m not a public menace. ”
“I never said you were. The danger would be to you. ” He paused. “How much do you know about black magic?”
“Enough to know I shouldn’t have anything to do with it. ”
“It’s addictive, Raine. Like a drug, the most vile and addictive you can imagine. Except this drug does more than give pleasure. It gives power—and it exacts a price you do not want to pay. I’ve seen it. ”
I met Mychael’s eyes. “In Tam. ”
He nodded. “And many others. When Tam left the goblin court, he got help. Most black-magic practitioners don’t want help. To the best of my knowledge, Tam hasn’t had a relapse since then—that is, until tonight. ”
“Wonderful. First Carnades Silvanus says I’m infected with a filthy goblin rock; now you’re saying that Tam fell off the black-magic recovery wagon because of me. ” I snorted. “I’m just spreading all kinds of good cheer around this place, aren’t I?”
“Tam hasn’t fallen yet. ” Mychael leveled those blue eyes on me. “But if he does, he’s not going to take you with him. How long have you known each other?”
“Tam came to Mermeia two years ago; we met soon after. ”
Like I could have forgotten that. Tam had turned Mermeia’s Goblin District on its collective pointed ear. He was a primaru, or shaman of the royal blood. Primaru Tamnais Nathrach was the ex-chief shaman of the soon-to-be-assassinated goblin queen, and a supposedly grieving husband of a recently murdered noble wife. Rumor had it that Tam leaving the goblin court and his wife’s murder were connected. Tam arrived in town as a goblin of wea
lth and influence. He purchased the palazzo of an old but impoverished Mermeian family, and transformed it into Sirens—the most notorious nightclub and gambling parlor in the city. Some people said he bought the palazzo; others said he won it in a card game with the Mermeian family’s foolish young heir. A few whispered that he’d all but stolen it using blackmail or black magic.
Knowing Tam back then, I would have believed any combination of any of the above.
I thought he’d changed. I thought I’d played a big part in that change.
Maybe I thought wrong.
I didn’t want to be wrong. I didn’t like it when I was wrong, and I sure as hell didn’t want the Tam I thought I knew to have reverted to the Tam I’d never want to meet.
We’d met when a cash-strapped noble started working his way through his wife’s jewelry to support his gambling habit. The wife hired me to find her grandmother’s favorite ring. I tailed the ring—and her husband—right to Sirens’s high-stakes card table. I’d heard that the owner of Sirens was a scoundrel and an opportunist, but he was also a savvy businessman. It looked good for him to return the lady’s ring. Tam told me later he did it to impress me.
He needn’t have bothered. Being a Benares, I’ve always been attracted to rogues. Kind of like a moth to flame. Most times I had the good sense to steer clear, but with Tam I’d come close to getting my wings singed more than once.
Tonight I damned near got fried.
“Has Tam ever told you what his job duties for his queen entailed?” Mychael asked quietly.
“He always kind of glossed over that part, but I’ve heard things. ”
“He was Queen Glicara Mal’Salin’s enforcer—her magical enforcer—for five years. ”
I blew out my breath. It was a little shaky. “That’s not the kind of job you get and keep for that long by helping little old goblin ladies cross the street. ”
“No, it’s not. ”
I knew what else five years meant. I’d heard that chief shamans for the House of Mal’Salin tended to have short lifespans. The lifespan shortening was usually done by others who wanted to be chief shaman. I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to fight to get and keep a job that was just going to get them killed, but I was an elf and not a goblin. I didn’t give a damn about politics and intrigue. Goblins thrived on it. For Tam to have survived that long at the queen’s side meant that he’d left his conscience and any morals he possessed at the throne room door. No wonder Tam had been so proficient with that death curse; I imagine he’d gotten a lot of practice.