Wraith(32)

I might have been able to answer the same question from Ghrashbreg when he’d been torturing me but now my tongue was cleaving to the roof of my mouth and I could only stare back dumbly. De Florinville’s expression didn’t change. Instead he leant over and started unfastening the buttons on my dirty chef’s coat.

‘She’s so thin,’ Rymark murmured. ‘There’s nothing to her.’

A tiny muscle throbbed in de Florinville’s cheek but his voice remained even. ‘She’s malnourished. Contact the kitchen. Get them to send up some hot water and some hot food immediately.’

Rymark bowed and darted away. My eyes tracked his departure. Now it was just me and the Dark Elf. I closed my eyes.

‘Can you talk?’ he asked.

I pressed my lips together and managed a shake of my head.

‘That’s alright,’ he said. ‘You don’t have to. Now don’t be alarmed but I’m going to get some scissors and cut off this dress. I need to see if there’s any other damage to your body. I’m only going to help you. I swear it.’

Hope stirred within me. There was something here that I could use. My eyes flew open and I stared at him urgently.

‘I’ve never seen such green eyes,’ he commented. He spoke so softly I could barely hear him.

I licked my lips. ‘Promise me,’ I croaked. ‘Give me your word that you won’t hurt me. You’ll help me.’

His expression softened further. ‘You have it.’

I needed more than that. ‘Say it.’

His own eyes held mine. ‘I promise that I won’t hurt you. I give you my word that I will help you as far as I am able.’

I breathed out. Of course, I couldn’t hold him to his promise. There were no witnesses and he didn’t know who I was. But he’d given every indication thus far that he was the sort of person who took promises very seriously. There was a sliver of a chance that it would let me get out of here with my head and neck still intact.

‘What’s your name?’ he asked me again, registering my acquiescence for what he was about to do.

‘Saiya,’ I whispered. ‘My name is Saiya.’

He smiled at me, his dark eyes crinkling at the edges. ‘I’m Gabriel.’ He reached down to brush his fingers reassuringly against my arm. No. Please don’t. Please don’t touch me. Panic flooded through me. Another’s touch was bad enough at the best of times but it would be awful while I was vulnerable like this. I had barely withstood Rymark’s skin against mine; I wouldn’t cope with de Florinville’s.

The Dark Elf didn’t seem to notice my fear; he simply continued as his hand moved down. ‘I’m very pleased to make your acquaint…’ The second his skin touched mine I felt an odd jolt, like a shot of electricity. It zipped through my veins and I jerked. Instead of an unpleasant sensation, however, it was more like a shiver of pure delight. What the hell?

I wasn’t the only one affected; De Florinville sprang backwards and stared at me, shock all over his face. ‘I don’t believe it,’ he exclaimed.

So he could tell that I was a wraith purely by touch. My heart sank; I’d hoped for a little more time before he realised what I was. More time might have allowed me to conjure up more sympathy from him. Anything that would encourage him to keep his word and not kill me would have been useful. I’d have to pray that his rash promise held.

‘You’re a human,’ he said, wonder etched into his words.

Not exactly. I frowned. What exactly was going on? Why wasn’t he going crazy with rage?

‘Saiya.’ He said it as if he were trying it out, rolling the word around his mouth. A long, slow smile spread across his mouth until it wreathed his whole face. For a moment, I forgot the throbbing, acute pain in my hands – and my fear – and stared at him.

He reached down again. Half-expecting his hands to wrap around my throat, I was stunned when his fingers brushed my cheek. ‘I always thought I preferred long hair,’ he mused. ‘But now I see how wrong I was.’

A flare of irritation ripped through me despite the renewed warmth I felt at his second touch. Now I could see what his game was – he was playing with me. Except I wasn’t a toy. ‘If you’re going to break your promise,’ I said, in a half whisper, half snarl, ‘then do it now. Don’t draw this out.’

Gabriel de Florinville blinked. ‘My promise?’ He’d already forgotten it. That hadn’t taken long. I sighed but then he shook himself, although his eyes were still intent on my face. ‘I won’t hurt you. I will never hurt you.’ His tone was so fervent that for a moment I almost believed him.

He ran a hand through his hair and turned away to open a drawer. When he turned back, the sharp scissors gleamed in his hands. I flinched and he looked pained. ‘I’ll be careful,’ he said.

He started at the lower hem of my dress, cutting upwards through the fabric. With his head lowered and his dark hair falling across his forehead, this was probably the best chance I was going to get to attack him. I raised my head. My hands hurt too much. Maybe I could kick him – if I kneed his face right now, I might get a few precious seconds, enough time to escape.

Then Rymark appeared in the doorway. ‘They’re sending the water and food up now,’ he said. ‘Apparently the kitchen is short-staffed and most of the servants have gone home for the night but they’ve found someone to do it. She was wearing a chef’s jacket so she must work in the kitchen too. Perhaps whoever comes up can tell us more about who she is and what happened.’