Shadow's End (Elder Races, #9)(20)

His words jolted her back to reality.

Reluctantly, she pulled away, and his hands fell from her face. With the same kind of wildness that had gripped her several times already that evening, she missed his touch so desperately, she almost reached for him again, except she didn’t have the right.

She forced herself to be relevant. “We did get some information,” she said. “The Vampyre I was questioning when you showed up—he said that ‘his employer’ had invited Ferion to an exclusive game at a country estate, a day’s ride west of London toward Wembley. He claimed Ferion left right after he had arrived.”

“Did he, now?” Graydon said thoughtfully.

She chewed at her lip. “It’s not much to go on, but it will have to do. I didn’t think to ask how long ago that happened. Since Ferion didn’t attend the masque, I had assumed he arrived at Malfeasance sometime this evening, but that isn’t necessarily true. The only thing I know for sure is that I saw him at breakfast. If he went to Malfeasance directly afterward, he’s had almost a day to travel already. I don’t have a moment to lose.”

The gods only knew how much financial damage Ferion might do before she found him, let alone how much time she might be gone.

Her absence would be noted, and the chances that she could keep this from Calondir were growing terribly thin. Lianne and Alanna were in her confidence, but none of their other guards and retainers were.

“What do you mean?” Graydon asked.

“A carriage will take too much time,” she muttered. “I’ll need to travel by horseback, and take either Lianne or Alanna with me. The other one will fuss, but someone needs to stay behind and try to run interference.”

Big hands settled onto her shoulders, startling her out of her preoccupation. Graydon said, “I said, what do you mean, you don’t have a moment to lose?”

Looking up into his shadowed face, she said, “Thank you so much for what you’ve done. Can you possibly do me one more favor and take me to Grosvenor Square before we part for the night?”

His hands flexed, and for some reason, his body tightened again.

He said, “No.”





FIVE


He hadn’t meant to sound so abrupt.

He hadn’t meant anything at all. As he had gathered her meaning, denial had rolled over him, and the word had leaped out before he realized it.

Looking into Beluviel’s beautiful, upturned face in the uncertain light of the moon, he saw that his answer had taken her aback. She blinked and straightened her spine. He could feel the rigidity of her shoulders through the palms of his hands.

He was beginning to recognize her reaction. Whenever adversity struck, she straightened and readied herself to meet it.

He needed to unclench and think of something more coherent to say. Unfortunately, that would require understanding himself more than he did at the moment. Realizing he gripped her too tightly, he forced his fingers to relax.

She said with obvious constraint, “If you need to leave right away, I’m sure I can hire a hansom from Malfeasance.”

Violence flashed through him at the thought of her walking back to that filthy hellhole. He swore under his breath and reined himself in. “I apologize. I meant, no, I’m not going to just drop you off at Grosvenor Square. I will take you to Wembley, if you’ll let me.”

She drew in a breath. Sensing she was about to deny him, he rushed on. “Before you say anything, think about it. I can get you there much faster than anybody other than a Djinn, only I won’t demand a favor from you in return. We can stop at the posting houses along the way to make inquiries. You’ll locate Ferion and Malphas’s estate much faster with me, and besides—”

Besides, I don’t want to leave you just yet.

He caught himself before he said it. He had no business feeling that way, let alone confessing such a thing to her.

Aside from the fact that it was inappropriate in the extreme, a part of him—the part that was all cunning and no conscience—realized that if he said it, she might feel forced to turn down his offer.

He wasn’t prepared to let that happen.

“Besides what?” Her gentle question brought him back to himself.

“It might be best if you had extra protection,” he finished, feeling lame. Then he gained more surety as he thought about it. He told her, “Malphas will not be happy to have us arrive uninvited, but with representatives of two different demesnes, not just one, on his doorstep, it might check his behavior.”

“Are you certain you can leave your sentinel duties for that long?” she asked. “You traveled all the way from New York to attend the masque. I’m sure you must have meetings and social functions on your schedule. Won’t Dragos have need of you?”

He brushed that aside. “Constantine and I have very light duties while we’re here. I won’t be leaving any task that I can’t pick up again once you and I are done.”

“If you do take me, this must be a private arrangement,” she said. “Something just between you and me, not between the Elven and the Wyr demesnes. We must maintain absolute secrecy.”

“Of course,” he replied. “I already promised my discretion on this matter. That extends to the trip to Malphas’s estate.”

“We really could travel so much faster,” she said slowly. “We could return to London faster too. Perhaps I can still find a way to keep this from Calondir’s attention.”