The Bitter Seed of Magic

said. ‘What about what he did to the Moths?’

‘Maxim has a penchant for playing games, and he does not worry overmuch if he has to sacrifice someone whom he considers a pawn. Although I understand that their part in his ill-conceived plan was an unfortunate error, which Maxim then decided to use to his advantage.’

‘Okay, so why did Mad Max stake Fyodor, his Dear Old Dad?’

‘You would have to ask Maxim, Genevieve. I do not want to guess at his motives where his father is concerned.’

Another evasion. ‘Okay, then I’ll guess. Let’s say Mad Max staked Fyodor to shut him up, or keep him out of the way, so he didn’t spoil Mad Max’s blackmail plot to get you to agree to whatever it is he wants. So there’s a fifty/fifty chance Fyodor knows what it’s all about,’ I said pointedly. See, oh, uninformative one, there are other ways of getting information. ‘But is what Mad Max wants just to do with your usual vamp stuff, or is it to do with the curse and the missing faelings? With everything else, I’m leaning towards the latter. Especially with Francine’s memory connecting Mad Max to Ana, and Ana connecting to the curse, and the missing faelings. That whole degrees-of-separation thing. So, if I take a leap here, Mad Max could connect to the missing faelings’—I stopped and gave the beautiful, and still annoyingly closed-mouthed vamp reclining on my bed an enquiring look—‘unless of course you can tell me something different?’

‘I am sorry, Genevieve, but I cannot tell you anything about the missing faelings.’ He turned the platinum ring on his thumb—the ring he’d given me, then taken back in the dreamscape. ‘If I do discover anything about their plight, then I would as a matter of urgency inform the police and do whatever was in my power to help them.’

Damn. Whatever Mad Max wanted, Malik didn’t think it was anything to do with the missing faelings. Or he didn’t know if it was. But I still wanted the information so I could judge for myself.

I tilted my head at Malik. ‘Did you know Mad Max and Fyodor are my relatives?’

‘Yes.’

Finally a straight answer, even if it was monosyllabic, and didn’t give me any sort of clue. Maybe if I tried another hook? ‘Maxim’s been taking my blood from Darius as some sort of tithe,’ I said, ‘but I don’t think that’s the only reason. But I couldn’t prise the info out of Darius’ head, because he’s promised to keep it a secret. And Mad Max wanted me to think he was the one drinking my blood, but he isn’t, is he?’

‘I do not have an answer for you, Genevieve.’

Definite stonewalling now. ‘Darius was thinking about a name,’ I said, not giving up. ‘He tried to hide it from me, but I’m pretty sure it was Andy. Does that ring any bells with you?’

Malik tensed in interest, so maybe he really wasn’t the font of all knowledge, and I’d hit on something he didn’t know. ‘Did you receive any impression of who Andy might be?’ he asked.

‘Another vampire, maybe?’

‘It is possible.’ A frown lined his forehead. ‘But if he has been giving your blood to this “Andy”, I would like to know who he is—if only to ensure neither Maxim nor he are a threat to you any longer.’

‘Can’t you just order him to tell you who Andy is?’ I said, shifting uncomfortably. My aches and pains were heading for the major complaints department, even with the pillows at my back.

‘I have no way of forcing Maxim’s obedience, Genevieve,’ he said. ‘He owes his Oath to the Autarch.’

My instinctive terror at the Autarch’s name threatened to surface; I swallowed it back. Time to dig in a different direction. ‘So now we’re on the subject of the Autarch and Oaths,’ I said, the calm sound of my own voice surprising me, ‘want to tell me what that means for me?’

‘You need not be concerned about the Autarch, Genevieve.’

‘Easy enough for you to say,’ I said, keeping my tone reasonable, ‘but I don’t know what’s going on. And if the general consensus is that I’m your property, and you owe the Autarch your Oath again, then he can demand you give me to him. So I was wondering what my options are if the Autarch comes calling.’

‘I have given you my protection,’ he said dismissively. ‘It is not necessary for you to worry.’

Looked like I was getting the brush-off again, which meant it was time to discuss a few ground rules about whatever our relationship was, or wasn’t.

I gave him a bright smile. ‘You do know I’m not fourteen any more, don’t you?’

‘I had noticed,’ he said, giving me an amused once-over.

‘Good,’ I said, ignoring the twist of desire inside me. There hadn’t been enough heat in his eyes for it to affect me like it did. ‘Well then, much as I’m grateful for all your past protection, and your help, you should also know that you can’t keep leaving me out of the loop or doing your mind-mojo thing whenever you feel like it.’

An odd, indecipherable expression crossed his face. ‘No?’

‘No,’ I said firmly.

‘How do you propose to stop me, Genevieve?’ he said softly.

That wasn’t the answer I’d expected, and it certainly wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I stared at him, a part of me wondering if he was joking. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You gave me your blood of your own free will.’ His eyes were cool, contemplative. ‘Not only does it allow me an open invitation into your home, but into your mind. I can make you think or feel whatever I choose to, whenever I choose to.’

‘But you won’t,’ I stated, in spite of the unease crawling down my spine.

His shoulders lifted in an elegant shrug. ‘Why not?’

Because you’re supposed to be one of the Good Guys. ‘Look, Malik, I spent the last five months sleep-walking through my life because you and Tavish got over-protective and sicced the Sleeping Beauty spell on me—I mean, I get that you were both worried about me after everything that happened, but I’m fine now. And the pair of you can’t keep leaving me out of the loop. You need to talk to me, to tell me what’s going on, to stop hiding things from me. It’s my life, after all.’

‘I have given my word I will keep you safe, Genevieve.’ He paused. ‘Even from yourself, if necessary.’

I tightened my hand on the glass, exasperated. ‘C’mon, Malik, I can look after myself.’

He raised his brows. ‘As you did so successfully tonight.’

‘Fine, okay, most of the time,’ I admitted. ‘Tonight was an exception.’

‘No, it was not an exception.’ A thread of anger laced his voice. ‘You are continually reckless with your own safety.’

My exasperation exploded into frustration. ‘I had to help them—they’re my friends, and it was because of me they were getting hurt. If I hadn’t, one or more of them might have died.’

‘It is possible,’ he agreed. ‘People die all the time. It is sad, and sometimes regrettable. But their lives are not as valuable to me as yours. You wear my mark, you are my property, and as such I will take care of you. In the future you will not visit Sucker Town without my permission.’

I felt the order sink into my mind.

I stared at him in shock. ‘You can’t do that.’

Chapter Twenty-Eight

‘You have given me your blood, Genevieve,’ Malik said, his eyes black and opaque, ‘so I have no need to indulge you, or negotiate with you, or discuss anything. If and when I want anything from you, then I will mould your mind and body into agreement, and I will take it.’

My shock turned to confusion, then to gut-churning betrayal. I poured another drink, almost on autopilot, and knocked it back, concentrating on the clean taste of the alcohol. The urge to smash the bottle over his head erupted inside me, but as quickly as it arrived the anger was gone, replaced by a sick feeling of inevitability. Hadn’t I always known it would come to this: that one day I’d end up at the mercy—or otherwise—of a vampire? And despite, or maybe because of Malik’s high-handed over-protective habits, I’d believed he thought I was a person in my own right—that he cared about me. And I’d trusted that he’d never abuse the power he held over me. But evidently I was wrong, since he thought it okay to mess around with my mind, to make me do whatever he wanted without any discussion. Obviously I was nothing more than valuable property—his trophy sidhe.