Pleased, Asil continued, “It is my duty to protect the innocent because they cannot protect themselves.” He tipped Alan’s face up to meet Asil’s eyes, knowing his wolf peered out, too. It was not a threat—and it was something he had not dared to do since before this city was built on a swamp—to allow his wolf such freedom. “That is your job, too. Protect your people, Alan Choo. Tell me what you know.”
Alan’s lips parted—and closed again as they both heard Ruby running down the stairs.
Ruby held a wire for Max and privately came to the conclusion that by the time they were through fixing the camera, not even Miranda would be able to get it to work again. Something tugged at her shirt.
She looked over her shoulder to see Dusty, his face expressionless as always, pointing to where Alan and Asil had just been.
He is questioning our wolf.Though Dusty’s face was several feet from her, his voice whispered directly into her ear and let puffs of air brush past her cheek. From long practice she didn’t jump. Dusty was harmless. Mostly.
She let the wire go and ignored Max’s indignantexclamation. “Peg,” she said. “Take over here. Terry, don’t kill Peg, or vice versa. I have to go hunt down my date.”
She thought Dusty might come with her—he tended to follow drama—but she was alone as she ran down the stairs. Charming and sweet he might be, but Asil was more dominant than Alan—and in her limited experience, dominant wolves didn’t even know when they were being overbearing.
She heard Asil say, his voice warm and soft, “Tell me what you know.”
Ruby found them in the reception room and took in the body language with something approaching fury. “Are you bullying Alan?” she asked—though it wasn’t a question.
“No.” To her surprise, when Alan turned to her, there was a smile on his face. His smile widened and his voice was peaceful when he approached her. He kissed her cheek. “No, he isn’t. You need to tell him about your problem. He’s promised to help. I’m going upstairs to keep everyone in the ballroom until you’re finished.”
And he left her alone with her date.
Asil raised an eyebrow at her. “What do you have to lose?” he said. “Whoever has you bound is coming, no?”
“I can run,” she told him.
His liquid eyes grew sad. “No,querida mía. You are tired of running. This is why you have summoned me.”
She stared at him, feeling tears gathering in her eyes, and she did not know why except she wanted—oh, how she wanted—to give him her trouble. It had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with the burning sensation radiating from her tattoo.
“He is nearly here,” she told him, whispering it. “He isn’t supposed to come yet.”
“Tell me,” he invited, his eyes the color of Medici gold—old, violent, and compelling. His voice was rich with invitation, coaxing her to trust him.
“He told me he bought me.” Her voice and body were stiff. She didn’t know why she started there when the story could be boiled down to the few sentences she’d told Miranda. She looked away from Asil’s exquisite face because there was no beauty in this story. “I don’t know who he bought me from. But I don’t remember anyone else. All I remember of being a child is him—and being sick all the time.”
Impulsively she struggled with the laces on her wrist covering, but they wouldn’t cooperate with her tear-blinded eyes and the shaking clumsiness of her fingers. Asil’s graceful, well-kept hands closed over her hands, stilling them. He made a single elegant gesture, and the leather separated and fell away from her wrist, revealing the ugly black lines of symbols on her skin.
“He did this after the first time I ran away. I was still a child.” She tapped one of the dark lines. “This is his blood. He told me I could never escape him with these. Then he quit locking the door.” She didn’t want Asil to think her weak—though of course she was. “I tried removing the skin—but the marks go all the way to the bone.” She paused. “I could cut the whole thing off.” She had thought about it more than once.
Except for when he’d broken her wristband, Asil had not released her hands. His grip was soft and she knew she could pull away if she wanted to. But somehow, she had the feeling that aslong as he touched her, nothing could harm her. It wasn’t magic. It was justhim.
“A possibility,” he murmured. There was a velvet growl in his tone. “But not a good one. No need to be hasty just yet. What does he want from you, Ruby? Why does he bind your magic and try to keep you close?”
But that wasn’t a question she wanted to answer.
“Do you think I haven’t had people who tried to help me before?” She turned away, pulling her hands free and rubbing at her eyes. “Good people who were hurt—killed—because of me.”
He didn’t ask why, if she were reluctant to have anyone else hurt, she had agreed to arranging this date. She answered him anyway.
“If it weren’t for Miranda, I’d never have agreed to asking you to come,” she said. “You’d have to meet her. She’s about four and a half feet tall with a temper like a wet cat. When she’s really mad, she screams at you in Mandarin.” Ruby heaved a sigh. “And she’s six months pregnant with a baby who isn’t sure he wants to hang in for the finish. I didn’t want to upset her.”
He was so quiet that she could imagine herself alone. She turned around to see him standing exactly where he had been when she pulled free.
“I was supposed to beguile you with my wiles,” she told him. “Such as they are. Then you would want to help me. I would do magic, any magic, and he would come because that’s how he finds me when his tattoo doesn’t work—like in a city of steel and iron. Hopefully he would come while you were still here and willing to fight for me.
“You were set up.” She swallowed. “It wasn’t fair. I wasn’tgoing to let it happen.” She wanted him to know that. “He wasn’t supposed to come unless I did magic. A lot of it.”
“Ah well,” said Asil with a graceful shrug. He didn’t look at all upset. “Who is he?”
