Selene

  He shook his head and stepped past her, crossing the room with long mechanical strides to set the tray on the table between the two chairs with finicky precision. The thoughtful, glazed look on his face didn’t change.

  “Hi, Jorge. How are you? I mean, you just got shot, but. . .God, I’m glad you’re still alive.”

  “I am too.” Jorge settled the tray to his satisfaction. The red polo shirt strained at his massive shoulders, and he was barefoot in immaculate khakis with creases sharp enough to slice bread. It was the first time she’d seen him without a suit on, and he still looked dapper.

  Selene held the back of the chair, staring at him. He looks drugged. Of course, he’s probably in pain, but if he’s carrying trays around it can’t be that bad, right? Right? Nikolai wouldn’t make him walk around if it was serious, would he?

  “Nikolai usually has coffee when he rises, and I brought some snacks for you.” His hazel eyes were flat and dull, his mouth bloodless. The burn on his cheek looked old and half-healed instead of fresh, and a chill touched her neck. Thralls healed quickly, if their Master let them. It was a fine time to wish she’d studied more about thralls than Nichtvren themselves.

  And why does Nikolai have coffee? Nichtvren like acidic drinks, but it probably gives him stomach cramps. “What’s wrong with you? Why didn’t you go to a clinic?” They have good ones in the city, not like the death-holes in the camps. “I would have gone with you.”

  Her eagerness sounded pathetic, she realized. I would have loved to go with you, I could have caught a cab home. I could have been in my own bed.

  Unless someone or something did indeed know where she lived, and was waiting there for her.

  Now there was an awful thought.

  “I’m expendable,” he said, steadily. “You’re not. Don’t worry, I’m fine. It was only a flesh wound, and I’m not feeling it now.” His bald head gleamed. The lamp by the side of the bed was glowing brighter now, and there were recessed track lights on the high ceiling, spotlighting the chairs and the bed.

  Selene’s fingers curled into fists, resting on the leather. “You got shot, Jorge. We should have gone to a hospital. And what the hell is wrong with you? You’re. . .” Her mouth worked for a moment, not finding any applicable words. Her hair lay chill and wet against the back of her neck.

  “He’s a thrall, and his Master is fully awake.” Nikolai said from the bathroom door. “He’s also in some pain, which I am keeping from him. As a Master should. He performed well, it is not right to allow him to suffer.” He wore a white button-down dress shirt and a pair of jeans, and his hair was slick with water. That made his face look even sharper, aquiline nose and high cheekbones standing out, black eyes glittering with the green-gold predator’s shine.

  The ever-present urge to smooth her hair and check for loose threads almost made Selene glance down at her own clothes. Or his clothes, whatever way you wanted to look at it.

  He performed well? I guess so, here I am. Selene leaned on her good ankle, watching him carefully. He barely glanced at her, crossing the room and settling into the other leather chair. Jorge took the lid off the tray. He moved like a mechanical waxwork, each gesture stopped with a tiny jerk.

  She backed up, limping a little, until she was a fair distance from the fireplace. Then she turned on her heel. Her purse and the blue canvas bag were lying against the wall on the far side of the bed, untouched. Or at least, apparently untouched.

  “I thought you would want to see Jorge,” Nikolai continued. Her back prickled at the thought of him behind her, even sitting down. “To reassure yourself. He seems to be the thrall you find least threatening. Thank you, Jorge. Go and rest.”

  Jorge nodded, and marched out of the room with the same weird, stop-stepping gait. Selene bent down slowly, curled her hand around the straps, and hauled both the bag and her purse up. Well, isn’t that mighty kind of you. “Thanks for the chance to catch some sleep. Can you have one of your little mechanical-toy boys drop me off at home? I’ve got some things I need to do.”

  “Selene.” Nikolai’s voice changed, dropped into a lower, more caressing tone. “You are home. Come and have something to eat.”

  Selene’s stomach dropped toward her ankles, somersaulted, and completed its acrobatics by flipping a few more times and sending out a definitely mixed signal. I can’t tell whether to throw up or cry. She took a deep breath. Her palms sang with pain, her ankle buckled, and her entire body twinged as she faced the door.

  “Thanks very much, Nikolai,” she said, formally. “But I’ve got a home, and I want to go home. I don’t want to stay here. It’s dusty and too dark and you’re scary. Not to mention the fact that I have a job that I’m due back at in two weeks and my brother’s killer to hunt down. I’ve got kind of a full ration-card, you know. So just tell one of your nice little slaves to drive me home, or I’ll call a cab, or I’ll walk. I don’t care.”

  Nikolai picked up the silver coffeepot balanced on the tray and poured a cup of coffee. There were two black-lacquer coffee cups, and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. A tall glass of milk. An apple, a bunch of grapes, and a bowl of something that looked like granola. Just what she’d want for breakfast after a long couple of days and a sidewalk shooting. This is ridiculous. Whoever heard of a Nichtvren stocking granola? Christos. Has someone been following me to the grocery store, too?

  “I regret to inform you that you will not be leaving my nest until I determine your safety is assured.” He settled back into his chair and took a sip of the gently steaming liquid, his eyes half-lidded. “Your apartment can be cleared, and your belongings—including whatever Power you have managed to sink into the walls and floor—can be brought here. Your employment will be discussed later.” Much later, his tone said.

  And that, Selene thought, is that. “I don’t think so.” She struggled for the same quiet tone. “I’ve got a life, Nikolai. It doesn’t include you. You can’t hold me here against my will.” Man, I say that as if I believe it. He could very easily keep me here.

  It might even be better, if someone’s waiting to shoot me at my apartment. But still.

  “I doubt you will have much will left if I set myself to break you, dear one. Do not push me, Selene.”

  Selene’s jaw ached. It was a little difficult to speak with her teeth grinding together. “Don’t you dare. If you want me to hate you, Nikolai, you’re doing everything exactly right.”

  “If you are still alive to hate me, I am satisfied.” He still stared into the fire, like he was barely paying attention to the conversation. “Come, have something to eat.”

  Selene counted to ten. Her shoulders felt taut as bridge cables. She counted to ten again.

  It wasn’t working.

  She set her jaw, settled the canvas bag and her purse over her unwounded shoulder, and pivoted back toward the door, left invitingly, tactfully open.

  “If you try to leave the nest, Selene, I will stop you. If you attempt to leave more than once, I will Turn you, and your obedience will be easier to enforce.” He didn’t raise his voice, but the room shivered, the wood paneling groaned. Selene’s body recognized the Power and wanted to melt, changing into something soft and pliant. Something that could be shaped. Her heart hammered. It would be so easy to drop down on the bed and let him do whatever he wanted.

  Everything inside her rose in rebellion. “If you Turn me you’ll lose what you want. I won’t be a nice little battery anymore. No more pleasant little feedings. And no more status from controlling the only tantraiiken around. It’s not nice to play with your food, Nikolai.”

  He apparently didn’t take offense, his tone as silken as the sheets. “You don’t know what happens when a tantraiiken is Turned.”

  You can’t do that to me. I’m human, goddammit. You just can’t. “And you do?” Her shoulders hitched up, one of them flaring with pain.

  He said nothing.

  Now or never, Selene. Get yourself out of here. “Thanks for a lovely evening, Nikolai. Do
n’t expect to see me for a week or two. I’ve got some business to take care of.”

  “This is the last warning, Selene. I have been patient, and I have been gentle, and I have been as kind as my need will let me be. If you would simply trust me to avenge your brother’s death, none of this would be necessary.”

  “Tell me what’s going on, or I walk.” She took another limping step toward the door. How far is he going to let me go this time? Any of his thralls would be chained up by now. Her breath evened out. If she had to run, would she make it out of his bedroom?

  Not on a busted ankle and carrying whatever this is, whatever killed Danny. What was he holding, and who was he holding it for?

  And what did Nikolai have to do with it?

  He didn’t sigh, but her skin prickled as if he’d exhaled. “Sit. Have something to eat. And I will tell you what I know.”

  Once again, a show of rebellion had gotten her something. That’s more like it. Of course, he could be lying. She stood, irresolute, and finally swung back around to face him, her ankle rolling and sending another bright copper spear of pain up her leg. “You promise? You swear to tell me everything, fully and completely, holding nothing back and answering all my questions to my satisfaction?”

  You had to be a lawyer when dealing with Nichtvren. She’d at least learned that much.

  Nikolai paused. When he spoke, it was very quietly. “I swear on my Bloodline. Will you swear to remain under my protection, wearing my sigil?”

  His sigil? Does he mean the medallion? She racked her brains, decided it was worth it. “I’ll swear. I promise.”

  “Good.” His eyes stayed half-lidded while he sipped at his coffee. But his hand shook just a little. The cup jittered, and coffee sloshed against the sides. It was so unlike him she decided not to mention it. Nichtvren were funny about any perceived weakness, with all a predator’s touchy pride and a formerly-human ego.

  And for all Selene’s study and a hard-won degree as a Paranormal Species teacher, she was woefully underinformed when it came to him.

  She limped back to the empty leather chair and laid the bag down beside it, in front of the fire. Lowered herself down, slowly, reached over to pick up an apple. “I’ll eat. You start talking.”

  “Danny was tracking objects for me. I paid him well enough, happy in the knowledge that what I paid him also helped you.”

  So you are involved with this, and admitting it too. The two of you, keeping cozy little secrets. She bit into the apple. Crisp skin and white flesh crunched between her teeth. “Danny said he had a good client, that the work was complex but not dangerous.” She took another bite, chewed and swallowed, and looked at him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “He was going to buy me a car. One of the new ones, with hover tech instead of petroleo.” It was a nice pipe dream, wasn’t it?

  Nikolai’s mouth firmed slightly. He took another sip. “Danny did so well with the initial objectives that I set him to finding something slightly more difficult.”

  Selene waited, taking another bite of apple. Wiped the juice from her chin. Instead of watching the fire, he now watched her from under his lashes. She ate the apple down to the core, bit the core in half, and chewed.

  Don’t talk with your mouth full, Selene. But she was hungry. “What was he supposed to find?” She was beginning to think she might have survived getting shot at and sleeping in a Nichtvren’s bed.

  “A certain Talisman.”

  “A Talisman?” She shivered. Danny knew better than to fuck around with Talismans; ever since the War and the Awakening those sorts of things had been far more powerful—and far more dangerous. Just like the rest of the world. “Which one?”

  “The Seal of Sitirris.”

  The remainder of the apple core dropped into her lap. “The Seal of. . .” That’s been lost for ages. She frowned, trying to remember. The Sitirrismi were called Timewalkers, and rumor had it they were the only force the Nichtvren had ever collectively feared.

  Of course, what would immortals fear but time?

  Not to mention the Sitirrismi’s nasty habit of popping out of a temporal whirlpool to strike where they were least expected. They were paying the bills with assassination these days, or so she heard. It was one of those little pieces of information picked up on a job that she could have done without.

  “It was a relatively simple operation,” Nikolai said. “He was only to locate the Seal. Instead, he made arrangements to steal it.”

  Yeah, Danny always was an overachiever. Her fingers pressed against her mouth, she had to peel them away one by one. Her bruised lip throbbed. Gooseflesh slid down her skin, for once not spurred by Nikolai’s nearness. Hell, next to the Sitirrismi, Nikolai was damn near warm and cuddly. “He what? He stole it?”

  “He made arrangements to steal it,” the Nichtvren corrected, a trifle pedantically. “Where the Seal is now, I have not been told.” Nikolai’s cheeks were white. His eyes flicked down Selene’s body, back up to meet her gaze. “I am uncertain if that is the reason he was terminated.”

  You know, euphemisms don’t really work for you, Nik. “Terminated? You mean murdered.”

  “I mean terminated. This was professional, dear one. As was the attack on you. Premeditated and flexible, with hardware and paranormal ability to slip past even my vigilance. You have been under heavy guard for quite some time now.”

  Now you tell me. And since when does that little Nichtvren jackass you set outside my apartment building qualify as “heavy guard”? But she knew the more serious of Nikolai’s help wouldn’t be visible to a human, even one as Talented and sensitive as Selene. She swallowed, picked the apple core back up. Don’t waste food, old habit prodded her, and she bit the rest of the core away from the stem, chewed it to bits. Set the stem on the tray, and clasped her hands primly in her lap. “Maybe your vigilance isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  It didn’t come out the way it had sounded in her head. Great, Selene. Accuse him of being a weakling. You know Nichtvren are really touchy about this sort of thing.

  Nikolai shrugged. It was a fluid movement, catlike. As if amused. “All the more reason to take additional measures for your safety.” He took another sip.

  If it wasn’t for you meddling with my life, I wouldn’t need protection. Though I admit only having you to worry about brightened my days considerably, I still wouldn’t call it perfect. “What do you need the Seal for?”

  He looked down into his coffee cup. “I have a. . .habit, of acquiring such items. The original owners of the Seal contracted me to find it, since they suspect a Nichtvren of the original theft.”

  Oh, Jesu. This just keeps getting better and better. “You collect cursed Talismans? You’re a lot braver than I thought.” Selene’s fingers knotted together, as if she was still in the camp orphanage listening to a lecture. The Sitirrismi hiring a Nichtvren to bring back the Seal, which they suspect was stolen by another Nichtvren—although what sucktooth would be suicidal enough to do that, I don’t know—and hiring my brother to locate it. Perfect.

  That made Nikolai’s lips curl up. It was a different smile than his usual good-natured shark grin. Instead, he looked wry and amused, acknowledging the humor. “I am already cursed, what do more curses matter? And if I possess these items, they are far less likely to cause havoc in the world.”

  “Nikolai Nichtvren, the altruist.” I don’t even know his last name. If he has one. Just one name for him, like a movie villain. “You’ve been watching too much 3-D prime-time. When did this happen?”

  “Five years ago. It’s a relatively new obsession for me.”

  The medallion seemed to quiver against Selene’s skin. “A relatively new obsession,” she repeated, picking up the black ceramic plate holding a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, neatly sliced on the diagonal, bleeding strawberry jam. Just what she’d wanted, really. That was unsettling.

  Still, peanut butter was another one of those luxuries she couldn’t get enough of nowadays. Right next
to hot water, lipstick, coffee, decent wine—there was a whole list of things she never wanted to be without.

  Including Danny. Her heart did a funny wrenching sidestep. But she couldn’t put the sandwich down.

  “Absolutely.” Something in the tone of Nikolai’s voice sounded like a smile.

  She started to eat. Strawberry jelly leaked over her fingers, she had to balance the plate in one hand while she wolfed the sandwich. Danny used to make a great grilled cheese. Tears rose hot in her eyes. And he never would have taken this job from you, Nikolai. What did you tell him to make him take it? What lie did you give him?

  Only she could imagine all too well that Nikolai hadn’t lied. Danny always wanted to protect his older sister; it had damn near killed him to have to retreat to his apartment and let her walk the streets alone.

  And the only reason Danny didn’t worry more was because Nikolai was “looking out for me”. But I kept complaining, and Danny thought he’d score a job, a big one. He probably had another buyer lined up. Enough money for us to get a start somewhere, or maybe even a house.

  Her heart contracted to a black hole inside her ribs. It’s my fault. “You seem to have picked up a lot of obsessions these past few years.” She sounded steady enough. All things considered, I’m doing really well with this. So why are my hands shaking?

  “It must be my age. Selene, there is another reason why I believe this attack was a premeditated termination.”

  “I’m all ears,” she mumbled, and took another huge bite. He was smiling, that same ironic, amused half-grin.

  “The media has been alerted. They know you—and your brother—are paranormal. Your name has been plastered over the evening and morning news. The press were lying in wait for you at the police station. They may have found your apartment building.” He paused, just to let that sink in. “There is a reward for news of your whereabouts. Quite a large one, too.”