“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 wealth 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.
I squeezed my eyes shut and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Okay, I’m confused by something. Actually a lot of somethings, but one at a time. Tam told me that A’Zahra Nuru was his teacher. I only ran into her a time or two last week, but she seemed to be a nice, rational sort of lady. Brave, noble, and all that. Definitely not a dark mage.”
“Primari Nuru was only one of Tam’s teachers,” Mychael told me, “and probably the only one he’d acknowledge now. Unfortunately, others were more influential in his early education. But when he left the queen’s service, Tam went straight to A’Zahra Nuru.”
My throat felt tight. “He knew she could help him.”
Mychael nodded. “He’s not the first that she’s helped. She does good work.”
Black-magic rehab. Just when I thought I’d heard it all.
I didn’t want to tell Mychael about Darshan thinking that Tam was in that alley to capture me for the Khrynsani, but he needed to know. Mychael was protecting me, and if I had any information that’d help him protect me and not get himself killed in the process, I owed it to him to be completely up-front. Tam didn’t hand me over to Darshan, but he’d clearly been blackmailed, coerced, threatened, or all of the above to do just that. Tam didn’t scare, so that left the first two. Whatever the Khrynsani were holding over Tam’s head had nearly been enough to put me in Khrynsani hands. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s past had come back to bite them in the ass. I just didn’t appreciate being there to share the teeth marks.
I told Mychael about Darshan.
Mychael listened, his expression grim. “What were the shaman’s exact words?”
“He said he was glad that Tam had come to his senses, and that he’d arrived just in time to keep his end of their bargain.” I left out the part where Darshan offered Tam a drug to use on me. Tam was in deep enough shit as it was, and Mychael got the picture without it. “I think the Khrynsani have something on Tam. And I was trying to get him to tell me what that something was when you came into the alley.” I knew what I was going to say next wasn’t going to go over well. “I’d like to ask him again.”
Mychael almost smiled. “Now what do you think my answer to that ill-considered request is going to be?”
“I asked you first.”
“No,” he said.
“No, what?”
Mychael leaned forward, until there were only inches between us. “No, you’re not going to question Tam. I am. It’s safer for you—and for everyone else.”
“To avoid temptation, avoid being tempted.”
“Exactly.”
I couldn’t blame Mychael. I wanted to disagree with him, but the truth was I just didn’t have the energy to argue. He must have sensed it; either that, or he read my tired little mind. I didn’t know and quite frankly I was too exhausted to care.
Mychael reached out and took one of my hands in both of his. It was warm. No liquid fire, no blazing heat. Just warm, and comforting, and nice. Really nice. Mychael was right. Tam was an apparently not-quite-recovered dark mage. I was a dark-mage magnet. We were a kaboom waiting to happen.
Mychael squeezed my hand. “And I promise I’ll tell you everything I find out.”
That was a surprise. “Everything?”
“Everything. For your continued safety, you need to know—and you deserve to know.”
“What’s Justinius going to have to say about this?”
“Nothing, because until I speak with Tam, I’m not going to report what happened. Justinius trusts my judgment. If anything happens on this island that he needs to officially act on, he knows that I’ll tell him. For now, we’re the only ones that know, and until I get an explanation from Tam, that’s the way it will stay.”
I was shocked, but mostly I was grateful. Regardless of what he’d just said, Mychael had to be going against a whole handful of regulations not to report Tam and me— and he was doing it for the same reason he’d done everything else since I’d met him.
To protect me.