His hand catches my wrist. Not hard, but inescapable. Shadow tendrils manifest around his form, coiling in the air like smoke given life.
"Or maybe," he says, his voice darker than I've heard it, "you're trying to seduce information from me."
I meet his eyes, letting him see the calculation there. "Is it working?"
"No." But his form is more solid than it was moments ago, and the tendrils reach toward me before he pulls them back. "You're trying too hard to be something you're not."
The rejection stings. I press closer, letting my breasts push against his chest, my free hand sliding up his arm. "How do you know what I am?"
"Because I can taste your emotions, remember? This isn't desire. It's desperation. Manipulation." He releases my wrist, but doesn't step back. "The real you is much more interesting than this performance."
"The real me wants you dead."
"The real you wants someone dead. But you're not certain it's me anymore, are you?"
The words hit too close to the truth. I step back, anger replacing attempted seduction. "You know about my sister."
"I know about many things."
"Stop being cryptic."
"Stop trying to seduce me like I'm some mark in a bar." He moves closer, and I'm suddenly aware of how much larger he is, how the shadows around him could crush me in an instant. "If you want answers, ask questions. If you want to kill me, try. But stop pretending to be something you're not. It's beneath you."
"Fine." I plant my feet, refusing to give another inch. "Who killed my sister?"
"Not me."
"Prove it."
"I can't. Not yet. You wouldn't believe any evidence I could show you."
"Try me."
He reaches out slowly, giving me time to pull away. His fingers touch my temple, and images flood my mind, but they're fragmented, unclear. A figure made of ice and bone. A woman's scream. The smell of crystallizing flesh. And underneath it all, a rage that mirrors my own.
I jerk away. "What was that?"
"A memory. One of many. I've been hunting him for centuries. Your sister was his latest victim, not his first."
"Him?"
"The Bone Collector. A Void Walker like me, but older. Crueler." His form flickers with emotion. "We were allies once. Before he discovered how to anchor himself using crystallized consciousness."
"You're lying."
"I don't lie. I don't need to." He turns away, shadows coiling around him in agitation. "Tomorrow, Päivi will give you a book. Read it. Learn about what we are, what we're capable of. Then decide if you still think I'm your enemy."
"Why should I trust you?"
"You shouldn't. But you're starting to anyway. I can taste the doubt mixing with your rage. It's... progress."
He starts to dissolve into shadow, then pauses. "Your seduction attempt. It was well-executed but unnecessary. When you want me, really want me, not as manipulation but as desire, I'll know. And then..." The shadows around him pulse with something that might be hunger. "Then we'll see who seduces whom."
He vanishes, leaving me alone with my racing pulse and the uncomfortable realization that part of me, a part I don't want to acknowledge, is disappointed he didn't take the bait.
I sink into Päivi's chair, mind churning. The Bone Collector. Another Void Walker. If it's true, if Nezavek isn't the killer, then I've wasted three years. But if it's a lie, an elaborate manipulation...
The cold of his form left an imprint on my skin, a memory my flesh won't release. When I close my eyes, I can still feel those shadow tendrils reaching for me, almost touching but not quite.
