Lisa Shearin - Raine Benares 02 (15 page)

A
death curse in Old Goblin. The blackest of black magic.

And
Tam was wielding it with a master’s touch.

The
Khrynsani’s eyes went vacant as he slid lifelessly down the alley wall.

The
Saghred responded. I didn’t know if it was to Tam’s touch, the sound of Old
Goblin, the death curse, or the potent scent of Tam’s black magic lingering in
the air.

The
Saghred didn’t care.

I
felt heat coil tightly like a fiery serpent in the center of my chest. It
uncoiled and ignited, spreading through my body, heating and awakening. Eager
and quivering. I couldn’t hear anything past the pounding of my heart. Tam held
me pressed against the wall, his lean body hard against mine. He looked down at
me in shock and disbelief—and beyond that lay something darker and
uncontrolled. His large eyes were bottomless black pools with barely any white
exposed. His breathing became ragged and the sharp tips of his fangs appeared
behind parted lips.

“The
Saghred?” Tam’s question came out as a raw whisper.

It
was, but I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I started to panic as the power between
us continued to build, my breath coming in shallow gasps. I couldn’t fight it;
I couldn’t stop it.

And I
didn’t want to.

Tam
slid his hand from my mouth to my throat, the heated trail of his fingers
burning away all instinct to defend myself. He bent his head until his lips
hovered over mine. His breath was warm, the sting of his fangs a sharp
sweetness as he softly bit my bottom lip. Then his mouth met mine and the
Saghred’s power coursed like liquid fire through my veins, meeting and melding
with Tam’s black magic until what was mine and his became ours in a searing
blaze of power. A pulsing, living thing ripe with dark promise.

No!

“Back,”
I gasped. I managed to wedge my hands between Tam and me and pushed hard
against his chest. “Dammit Tam, get back!”

My
effort wasn’t necessary. Tam staggered back from me like I was the edge of an
abyss and he’d almost fallen in. I dimly realized the fighting in the street
had stopped.

“What
are you doing here?” Tam’s words came out half strangled.

“The
boy,” I heard myself say. “The Khrynsani want him.”

And
me. A Khrynsani shaman knew Tam well enough to lower his defenses—and expected
Tam to hand me over to him.

But
Tam had killed him. With black magic.

I
bent and retrieved my switchblade from where Tam had dropped it, never taking
my eyes from the goblin that until two minutes ago, I had considered more than
a friend. I flipped the blade open. It was in perfect working order. Good.

“Just
what the hell are
you
doing here?” I growled. My eyes widened in
realization. “You followed me here from Mermeia.” I looked at the dead Darshan.
“Why? As a favor for the Khrynsani?”

Goblins
had what they called “intricate alliances”—and even more intricate betrayals. I
couldn’t believe that Tam would betray me.

I
couldn’t deny that Tam was a dark mage.

Tam
had always wanted me. Now Tam’s black magic wanted the Saghred. He’d come close
to getting both.

“Raine!”
It was Mychael’s desperate shout from somewhere in the street or the courtyard.
I didn’t know. Hell, I could barely think. I put Rudra Muralin’s journal back
in my jerkin, and saw that my hands were shaking. Fear, shock, rage—take your
pick.

“Answer
me, Tam!” I snapped.

Silence.

“Raine!”
Mychael was closer.

“She’s
here,” Tam called, loud enough to be heard by Mychael, but no one else.

Mychael
appeared at the alley entrance, saw us, and noted the dead shaman. His eyes
went back to Tam, his face an expressionless mask. The air around us still
crackled with the remnants of our melded powers—and the acrid scent of Tam’s
death curse.

I
knew a little about Tam’s past. He’d reluctantly volunteered some things, and
I’d heard whispered rumors of a few more. None of it was anything to be proud
of. Mychael had known Tam long before I’d met him. As a lawman, I imagine
Mychael had made it his business to know the name of every skeleton in Tam’s
closet.

Mychael
didn’t need to say a word; his blue eyes were blazing and so was his blade.
They were doing his talking for him. Tam’s black eyes matched Mychael’s for
intensity, and the red glow of a spell in readiness flared to life on his
hands. The two of them were packing enough firepower to wipe out most of a city
block. I’d seen this kind of behavior before—at high noon on a quickly deserted
street. I was going to put a stop to it right now.

I
stepped between them. It wasn’t the smartest idea I’d had today, but it’d keep
either one of them from doing anything potentially lethal and definitely
stupid.

“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.”

“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.