The Shifting Price of Prey (65 page)

As he nodded, Gold Cat padded past me carrying the protesting gnome.

I grabbed her by her scruff. ‘Don’t forget our deal. I save both kits, you tell me how to undo the mating with Finn.’

Her lip curled, copper-coloured whiskers stiffening.
Take stronger mate. Break mate-bond with satyr.

I rocked back on my heels, stunned. I had to mate with someone stronger to stop being mated to Finn? That wasn’t exactly a winning solution for me. Damn it. I’d imagined an
invocation to the gods, or some sort of spell or ritual—

‘How do I take a stronger mate?’

Circle. Share flesh. His seed in you.
Gold Cat’s tone suggested I was stupid not to know that. She tugged out of my hold and padded away to disappear into the darkness beneath the
stage with the struggling gnome. I stared after her, thoughtful.

If all I needed was a bit of mutual cannibalism (ugh) and sex with someone more powerful than Finn, well, that probably gave me the option of a good ten per cent of London’s fae as a
starter. Not that I had any intention of going down the ‘another mate’ route. But at least the answer wasn’t one of those Herculean tasks. In fact, if I ignored the whole ick
factor, it actually seemed way too easy an out.

Something to investigate later, once everyone was safe. And Malik had his soul back.

I rolled my shoulders and turned back to where he lay on the stone circle.

Dropping to my knees, I placed my palm on his chest. Despite his heart not beating, and his skin hard and cold like stone, not living flesh, he didn’t seem like a vamp who’d been
drained dry, but more as if he were in his daylight sleep. But the tent was painted in his blood. So never mind what he looked like, or the stingy couple of mouthfuls Bastien had dripped into him,
which even with his Autarch’s power would no more quench a vamp’s thirst than two drops of rain in a drought, it was always possible Malik would wake to full bloodlust. Not a
particularly reassuring thought, but I wanted him to have his soul back.

Though really, it wasn’t like I didn’t have plenty of blood to spare. Thanks to my time in
Between
, I hadn’t donated for two nights. Nor had I sated my body’s
need for vamp venom with blood-fruit. With my sidhe metabolism, that was like a week to a human and the 3V addiction rioting in my cells was near enough at its ideal. My venom levels not so low for
the craving to be vital, and my blood levels high enough that losing two or three pints wasn’t going to do anything more than treat both of us to a good time.

Anticipation speeding my pulse, I positioned Janan’s silver point over his heart—

Malik’s eyes flew open, power flamed hot in his pupils, and his hand clamped round my wrist. ‘No.’

Malik’s order snapped around my mind like a net. I resisted automatically. The net tightened, then broke and shredded to nothing. I jolted in surprise and the
blade’s point pierced his flesh.

He groaned as if in agony, then too fast for me to counter, I was on my back, arms pinned above my head, his legs straddling my thighs, his body atop mine, all four of his fangs fully out, his
eyes black and opaque with no hint of recognition in them.

My childhood training kicked in and I forced myself to lie still, concentrating on slowing my thudding heart; struggling with a vamp gets them too excited, makes them more likely to rip your
throat out by mistake.

After a long perilous moment, he gave a slow blink. ‘Genevieve?’

I frowned at the question in his voice. If he was lucid enough to ask, he shouldn’t need to. ‘Yes.’

His nostrils flared and the reason clicked in my mind. Damn vamp supersenses. As Mad Max and Bastien had both
oh, so helpfully
pointed out, I smelled of more than just me. And damn
Bastien. I had a sudden inkling the sadistic prick had deliberately given Malik just enough blood to get him up and reacting instead of thinking. Malik either sensed I wasn’t totally me,
thanks to Gold Cat’s recent residence, or Finn’s scent on me had triggered his territorial instincts. Neither of which was good.

‘It’s okay,’ I said, keeping my voice calm, despite the anxious knot in my gut. ‘I’m not possessed or anything.’ I released my bracelet, hearing the quiet
chink of charms. ‘See, I’m still wearing the cross.’

He gave another slow blink, nostrils flaring again. ‘The scent of fae and blackberries clings to you.’ A mix of accusation and anger lit fire in his pupils.

‘I can explain,’ I said quickly, not that I particularly wanted to right now, nor was I sure an explanation would work . . . hungry/territorial vamps aren’t too big on
listening. I held my breath, flinching as a sudden gust of wind buffeted the tent, flapping the entrance wide for a moment then, as it ruffled my hair and cooled the sweat prickling my skin, Malik
visibly reached for control. His needle-sharp venom fangs retracted, the tension in his muscles relaxed and the flames in his pupils flickered out, leaving behind a sea of anguish and concern.

‘Explain?’ A concerned line furrowed his brows. ‘Are you hurt, Genevieve?’

I frowned. ‘No. I’m fine.’

The furrow deepened. ‘Have you been forced against your wishes?’

‘What? No, of course not.’ Surely he knew Finn would never do that.

Desolation flickered in his eyes, spearing an odd grief through my heart. ‘You were willing, then,’ he murmured, his face blanking to his usual enigmatic mask. He glanced at where he
pinned my wrists and his grip loosened as he suddenly seemed to realise he’d been holding me captive. ‘My apologies.’ His tone was as remote as if we were strangers. And then
vamp-quick he was gone, leaving me scowling in disbelief up at the peaked roof of the tent.

Did he think I’d had sex with Finn deliberately? After what had happened between us on the island? Was this some sort of jealous snit? Or was his blood hunger screwing with his mind? The
only one way to find out, as Hugh would tell me, was to ask.

I scrambled up, ready to demand what he was playing at, only to find him staring at the Empress.

My heart went out to him. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, and I was. I didn’t know her, and didn’t particularly want to. But even if he hadn’t seen her for centuries,
and even if Bastien’s story about her hitching up with the Emperor was true, Malik must have cared for her at some point. Losing someone hurts.

After another long moment, he raised his gaze to mine; beneath his carefully blank look, he seemed relieved, not sad or angry. ‘The Emperor is dead.’

‘Yes,’ I said, even though it was a statement, not a question. Obviously he was aware that his wife, though ex-wife was probably more appropriate, only got to live as long as she did
thanks to her blood-bond with the Emperor. If she’d expected a new blood-bond with a vamp as reward for her part in the plotting, then she’d pretty much lost that gamble.

He scanned around the tent as if searching, spied Janan and scooped the knife up, then attacked a pile of clothes in one corner. As I watched, feeling oddly redundant, he efficiently turned out
pockets and patted the clothes down, then pulled on jeans and a shirt, both black. They fit, so had to be his. He slipped Janan into the back of the jeans in a practised move, then strode back to
contemplate the Empress again and demanded, ‘Where are the Emperor’s ashes?’

Of course, he’d know the Emperor would go up in flames once he was dead. As Bastien had gleefully informed me, the whole
‘fool-the-Emperor-into-thinking-he-was-getting-Malik’s-immortality-sting’ had been Malik’s plan.

I frowned, not happy he was virtually ignoring me. ‘A wind blew them into the ether.’

‘All of them?’ he queried, still not looking at me.

‘No. His head sort of shrank and Bastien ate it before the ashes dissipated.’

Malik’s shoulders slumped as if in defeat.

‘I take it that’s bad?’ I asked, more for something to get him talking. Because no way in hell was it good.

‘It was not meant to happen this way,’ Malik murmured, almost to himself. ‘I was to be the one to wield Janan, not you. No one but I knew that you could also use the Bonder of
Souls.’

Yeah, not even me.
‘So how did Bastien find out? Because I take it he was the one who decided to add me in as an extra to your plan?’

Malik gave a sharp shake of his head. ‘I do not know how he discovered it. It was only after your mention of Janan at the lake that I realised something was amiss. After our time
together—’

‘When you decided to send me home without consulting me,’ I interrupted flatly.

‘I hoped to keep you safe, Genevieve,’ he said, voice toneless.

I settled for a loud huff – he knew my thoughts about that – and said, ‘So, what happened after you sent me home?’

‘I learned Bastien had deviated from the plan we had agreed.’ A puzzled frown drew his mouth down. ‘He has not done that in centuries.’

Right. Well, my bet was that a certain leannán sidhe had a hand in inspiring Bastien’s deviation, but I didn’t say it. I also didn’t say that maybe if Malik hadn’t
kept me out of the loop, I might have had a chance to destroy the Emperor’s head along with the rest of him. As it was, the psycho had taken me by surprise. And he’d chomped the Emperor
now, so recrimin- ations were sort of meaningless. But there was one thing I needed Malik to tell me.

‘Bastien says now he’s the Emperor he can put two and two together and tell me how to release the fae’s trapped fertility.’ Or in other words:
did you know that the
sadistic prick knew? And if so, why the hell didn’t you tell me?

‘My apologies, Genevieve,’ he said, still staring at the side of tent. ‘Bastien gave me his word not to harm, or even speak to you in person so long as I did not divulge to
another that he knew of the original spell to trap the fae’s fertility. Since you recovered the pendant I have been negotiating with Bastien for the information you and the fae
require.’

So Bastien had him over a barrel because of me.
Damn exasperating, over-protective vamp. ‘Thanks, but now I know I can do my own negotiating. And I plan to as soon as I’ve
double-checked everyone is safe.’

‘Speaking to Bastien will put you in danger—’

‘Malik.’ I threw my hands up. ‘I’ve told you, you can’t protect me from everything. And I don’t want you to. You need to tell me what’s going on, let me
make my own decisions about what to do, or not do, and then at least if I end up in danger, I’ll know how and why I got there. And I’m not stupid; if I need help, you can bet I’ll
ask for it.’
Unlike you, you stubborn idiot
, I added silently, balling my hands in frustration. ‘Same way I told you to ask me if you needed help. And okay if it was just your
business and you didn’t want my help, fair enough. But it wasn’t. This was my business too. Hell, maybe if I’d been part of the plan from the beginning, or got to talk to Bastien,
then he and the spirit of the tarot cards wouldn’t have got together, I might have got decent warnings from her and prevented Katie and Freya ending up here in the Forum.’ All right so
maybe I wasn’t above getting on the recrimination bandwagon.

Malik’s jaw went rigid, bone jutting sharp against his pale skin. ‘I did not intend for any innocents to be put at risk.’

‘Of course you didn’t,’ I agreed with a sigh, despite the fact he
still
wasn’t looking at me. ‘It’s not your style. I’m just saying you
shouldn’t keep me in the dark, and you don’t have to do everything alone.’

He smoothed a hand over his shaved head, brushing off the dried blood from the smudged glyphs there. He stared down at the rust-coloured flakes sticking to his palm as if they were able to
predict his future then clenched his fist. ‘My apologies, Genevieve, you are right. If you would allow me, I would assist you in your negotiations with Bastien. In order to expedite matters,
I would request some of the power your blood holds. I would not ask, were it not of importance to you.’

H
e wanted to assist me, did he? Well, no way was I going to refuse an offer like that, but first he could damn well stop acting like talking to me
was akin to sucking garlic. ‘On one condition,’ I said flatly.

‘Which is?’

‘You listen to my explanation about what happened with Finn.’

He turned, fixing his gaze somewhere near my left ear. ‘I do not require you to explain. It is your choice alone who you decide to bed. You have said you were willing—’

‘No,’ I said, gritting my teeth at his
oh so polite
tone. ‘
You
said I was willing.
I
told you Finn didn’t force me. There’s a whole lot
of story in between that.’

‘I do not need to be told a story, Genevieve.’ His eyes met mine for a moment, his black and pitiless. ‘In truth, I would prefer not to listen to one.’

‘Listen, buddy.’ I thumped him in the chest. ‘Things happened between Finn and me. Things which were not entirely of either our choice. So stop assuming you know what’s
going on.’

He slowly met my eyes again, anger flickering. ‘You are saying I am an ass?’