The Trouble with Demons
Page 62“I assumed as much.” Mychael shook his head, the barest shadow of a smile on his lips. “I should arrest you, if just to save you from yourself. Worse yet, you talked five of my best men into going with you.”
I held up a hand. “Only two came into the house with me. Vegard and Herrick insisted. Vegard wasn’t going to leave me; Herrick wasn’t leaving Piaras.”
“That’s another thing—you took Piaras.”
“He’s a virgin. I had to.”
Mychael blinked. “Excuse me?”
I told him about virgins and the Scythe, purity finding evil, and all that.
Mychael didn’t laugh; but he didn’t need to, those blue eyes of his were doing a fine job of both. And it did an even better job of taking the tension right out of the room.
“Then it was a good thing that you knew about Piaras,” he admitted, trying to keep from smiling. “Finding a virgin on this island on short notice would have been a challenge.”
I snorted. “To say the least. And I suspected about Piaras; I didn’t know for sure.”
“How did you—”
I winced. “I had to ask him.”
“I hate I missed that.”
“I don’t.”
“Sora told me you had gone to Carnades’s and why,” Mychael said. “And Herrick told me you’d gone into the tunnels under the house. I’d just received confirmation that the Hellgate was in the Assembly. Knowing where those tunnels led—but mostly knowing you—I assumed the worst and went straight to the Assembly.”
“I’m glad you did,” I admitted. “Things weren’t going quite as I planned.”
Mychael raised one eyebrow. “What I witnessed was the culmination of an actual plan?”
“More like a loose gathering of possible actions.” I picked at the expensive fabric on the back of one of his guest chairs. “Please tell me you have a better plan for Carnades.”
Carnades knew about our umi’atsu bond, his word carried weight, his accusations would be believed, and if Mychael, Tam, and I were forced to appear before the Seat of Twelve, there would be no doubt. And since the Saghred was involved, even Justinius Valerian wouldn’t be able to save us.
“Carnades knows and so does Rudra Muralin,” I said. “One of them is going to act on that knowledge. Soon.”
Mychael’s face was somber. “It won’t be Carnades.”
“You say that like it’s not good news.”
“Dammit, Mychael, you said you’d tell me!”
“You demanded; I never promised. I needed to know who Sevelien saw first. That would be difficult with one of your daggers sticking out of his chest.”
“I just want to talk to him.” My words coming out from between clenched teeth said otherwise.
“And if he didn’t answer correctly, he would have been sporting your steel—or more likely, his security detail would have killed you before you got the chance.”
I froze. “Security detail? Markus has never had one of those before.”
“He does now. Mages, heavy hitters.”
“Which of your men followed him?”
“I did.”
I blinked. The paladin of the Conclave Guardians didn’t follow; he delegated. Then I knew why Mychael trailed Markus himself. Me. Mychael trusted his men, but no doubt some things he wanted to do himself. Because of me.
“Carnades had a meeting scheduled with three of the Seat of Twelve,” Mychael said quietly.
“You have names?”
“I do.” He paused. “After seeing Markus Sevelien, Carnades canceled that meeting. He hasn’t seen anyone since.”
The implications of that kicked an already bad situation into the realm of catastrophic. “Markus told him not to do anything,” I heard myself say. “Yet.”
Given enough time and motivation, I could usually get into someone’s mind. Not literally, but I could observe them enough to know how they would respond in a given situation. It was a knack that had come in handy on several occasions, saving my life in at least two instances. I’d never been able to read Markus Sevelien to save my life—and I just might have to.
“Justinius has two sources inside Carnades’s household,” Mychael was saying. “They said that Sevelien stressed most strongly to Carnades the need to rest, remain at home, and see no one.”
“Sounds like an order to me.”
“It was.”
While I loved the idea of Carnades staying home and keeping his mouth shut, I didn’t like that Markus Sevelien in all probability knew everything that Carnades did. And my blood ran cold at the thought of Markus being the one who was ultimately pulling Carnades’s strings.
“Where’s Markus now?” I asked, though I knew. He wouldn’t be anywhere else.
“The elven embassy,” Mychael confirmed for me.
“And neither one has left since they arrived.”
“Plots and nefarious deeds are best brewed in one place.” I tried for a quip; it didn’t quite make it.
“Raine, promise me you won’t try to see Sevelien.”
I answered with silence.
“I will be meeting with him myself,” Mychael told me. “As I do with every dignitary or official who drops anchor in our harbor.”
“It sounds like you’ve already set it up.”
“I have.”
“I want to be there.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
“For every obvious reason.”
And every last one of those reasons involved me.
“Where are you meeting him?” I asked.
“Here in the citadel.”
That made me feel marginally better. Markus wouldn’t try anything on Mychael’s home turf—at least the Markus I knew wouldn’t. I had no idea what the Markus who could order Carnades Silvanus around was capable of.
“Think he’ll be straight with you as to why he’s here?”
One side of Mychael’s lips curled in a quick smile. “Of course not. They never are. With some it’s like verbal chess. Getting information from Markus has always been more like verbal fencing.”
“Has always been?” I was incredulous. “You’ve met him?”
“On several occasions, either business or politely social.”
“I take it I’m business.”
“Touché.” I was silent for a time. “Markus knows me, but he’s kept it a secret until now. Though for all I know, he still might not have told anyone. People like him don’t associate in public with people like me. You’d have been better off if you’d done the same thing. I’m a lot of things you don’t need to have anywhere near you, now or ever.”
Mychael leaned back against the closed door and crossed his arms over his chest. “And what kind of things would those be?” he asked, his blue eyes sparkling.
I was stunned. He actually thought all this was funny. “Infested with an ancient rock of evil should be reason enough. But if you need another: you uphold the law; my family doesn’t.”
“Raine, you aren’t your family,” Mychael told me. He thought for a moment, then let out a little laugh. “Most of us aren’t like our families, and some of us don’t want to be.” He leveled those eyes on me. “You, Miss Raine Benares, are impulsive, trouble personified, you defy me at every turn, and to order you not to do something is a waste of my breath.” He stepped away from the door and slowly came toward me. “But you’re also brave to the point of being damned near fearless, unwaveringly loyal, fiercely protective of those you love, and have literally stormed the gates of Hell to keep them safe.” Mychael stopped directly in front of me; amusement and sincere admiration shone in his eyes. “You’re the most challenging woman I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet.” His voice lowered to a bare whisper. “And yes, I did say pleasure.”
I looked up at him. “Don’t you think ‘misfortune’ would be a better word?”
He laughed. “And you would argue with a fence post.” He reached out and brushed one finger down the side of my face and lightly hooked it under my chin. “Meeting you was not a misfortune,” he said softly. “I meant what I said.” He paused meaningfully. “I always have and I always will.”
“You’re in an umi’atsu bond with me and Tam. Considering who and what we are—”
Mychael lowered his hand from my chin, brushing my arm on the way. “What I did was necessary. And I’ve sent for A’Zahra Nuru for help.”
I just stood there, stunned. “You’ve what?”
“She is well versed in umi’atsu bonds,” Mychael said firmly.
“If help is to come from any source, she’s it.”
Primari A’Zahra Nuru was a powerful goblin mage, and she was the one teacher Tam would admit to having. I’d only met her once, but from what I’d seen she was brave, noble, and definitely not a dark mage. A’Zahra Nuru had been strong enough to help Tam pull himself back from the black magic abyss. Though it was her present position that raised the small hairs on the back of my neck.
“Is she still chief counselor to Prince Chigaru?” I asked.
“She is.”
“And if you’ve sent for her, chances are he’ll come with her.”
“Probably.”
I snorted. “Definitely. He knows the Saghred is on Mid. You just invited his counselor to come to Mid. I don’t think his highness is going to stay home.”
Not that he had a home to stay in. Prince Chigaru Mal’Salin was the younger—and exiled—brother of the goblin king. Chigaru wanted his brother’s throne and wouldn’t mind having his brother’s head on a platter while he was at it. And he saw both of these as being a heck of a lot easier to get if could get his hands on the Saghred first. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">