Cyrus wore loose black trousers and nothing else. His husky arms were heavily inked with a unique design that stretched from his elbows to his shoulders. It looked like armor. It wasn’t the style of the time he lived in, so he must have acquired it later in life.
Stop overanalyzing everything,she thought, rolling her eyes. What else did she have to do? Gem wasn’t exactly an idle creature, and she had no desire to engage in conversation with Cyrus.
Begging for her freedom was a waste of breath. Could she outwit this man? Did he really think that Niko would give him something valuable in exchange for her life? If Niko had kept a book away from Cyrus for centuries, he wasn’t going to give it up for anything or anyone.
If only she had a blanket or something to wear. Her red nightgown had finally dried, but it barely covered her knees. Gem cupped her arms and crossed her feet at the ankles.
“I offered you hot tea,” Cyrus said without looking at her.
After watching him pour one cup after another down his gullet, she had no desire to accept anything that he offered.
“I’m not thirsty.”
“Suit yourself,” he said indifferently. “Lykos, you sneaky devil.”
Lykos sat back and grinned. He didn’t look anything like Cyrus, but Cyrus had called him his brother on more than one occasion. They must have had the same Creator. Lykos was leaner and also Asian, but his features were traditional Chinese. Cyrus was bigger, tanner, and had a barely-there mustache beneath his broad nose. He didn’t have a kind expression. His smile revealed gaps between his teeth, and his eyes were malevolent beads.
Gem glanced across the room at the folding screen in the right-hand corner. Behind it was a tiny kitchen with only a stove, a small refrigerator, and a sink. Ancients were peculiar. They turned their noses up at television and technology, but they had no problem incorporating kitchen appliances in their home. There was nothing inherently offensive or evil about soap operas and a little music.
Someone pounded against the door.
Cyrus rose from his seat and pointed at the hall. “Leave.”
She blinked up at him in surprise. “I thought I could walk around freely?”
He lowered his chin, acknowledging the promise he’d made. “Once I have greeted my visitor, you may come out. Now go, unless you wish to upset me.”
His words sent a shudder through her spine, so she hopped to her feet and padded down the hall. Gem had learned a long time ago that mouthing off to a person with a volatile personality would accomplish his goal more than yours. One had to be craftier than that. She slipped into the second room on the left and pretended to shut the door. After a few seconds, she slowly let go of the knob and leaned into the crack to eavesdrop.
“Come in,” Cyrus said cordially, as if he were hosting a dinner party. “I’ve been expecting you.”
“Where is she?”
Gem gasped when she recognized Niko’s voice.
“Safe,” Cyrus replied. “Heed my warning, Nikodemos: if you attempt anything foolish and Kallisto doesn’t receive a call from me, he’s been ordered to strike.”
“And who is the target?”
“Do you really wish to find out? Test me, boy.”
A blanket of silence fell, and Gem widened the door to poke her head in the hallway. Unfortunately, they were standing out of eyeshot.
“I don’t see my book,” Cyrus griped.
Gem crept into the hallway, her back to the wall as she slowly sidestepped toward the main room.
“You and I both know you’re a man who bargains face-to-face,” Niko replied. “I cannot barter without knowing.”
“You wanted to see the girl with your own eyes?” Cyrus laughed haughtily.
“I see your sense of humor hasn’t changed.”
“You were always too sensitive about your handicap. That was what made you weak to begin with.”
“Where is she?”
Gem held her breath when she heard someone rustling around.
