Uncle Ryn’s scowl turned into something darker. “How much influence does this mage have?”
“Entirely too much,” I told him.
“He could have you imprisoned?”
“And then some.”
“Then you’re staying here with me.”
Uncle Ryn’s voice said no arguments. I didn’t want to give him any, but I had to.
“Sorry, Uncle Ryn, but I can’t.”
“And why not?” he rumbled.
“Let’s just say that something’s happened, and there’s someone I need to have a heart-to-heart talk with.” I said it through gritted teeth, and the threat of violence that came out with my words wasn’t lost on my cousin.
Phaelan knew exactly who I meant and swore. “Tam Nathrach. Raine, he’s trouble; always has been, always will be.”
“So are you,” I shot back.
“Touchй. So what kind of trouble has he gotten you into this time?” His eyes widened and then narrowed dangerously. “He didn’t get you-”
I just looked at him. “No, I am not pregnant.”
But you might be married, chuckled the pessimist in my head. My pessimist was starting to think this was funny.
“Ma’am, I’ve been told not to let that happen,” Vegard said.
I didn’t move; I didn’t even blink. “Not let what happen?”
“You get within half a mile of Tamnais Nathrach right now.”
I blew out my breath in exasperation and relief. “Let me guess. It was Mychael, and he didn’t tell you, he ordered you.”
“Right on both counts, ma’am. He said bad things would happen if the two of you got anywhere near each other.”
My little voice snorted, then chortled. If he only knew.
“Vegard, bad things have already happened, and they’re going to keep happening until I can get a handle on what’s going on. The first-and absolutely necessary-step to doing that is to see Tam.”
The Guardian looked decidedly unenthusiastic.
“Did Mychael order you to sit on me again?” I asked.
“Just to try to discourage you.”
“Next time you see him, tell Mychael I’m not easily discouraged.”
Vegard almost smiled. “I think he already knows that, ma’am.”
Chapter 9
Getting from Uncle Ryn’s hideout-excuse me, land-based headquarters-to Tam’s nightclub involved going to ground. Literally.
A rats’ warren of tunnels ran under the entire island. There was no way I could show my face on the streets right now. With Carnades running around waving a warrant for my arrest and/or execution, the quicker I got myself underground, the better. I guess it was too much to hope for that the blue demon had caught up with Carnades and eliminated him and most of my problems in one fell swoop.
I’d never liked tunnels before; I didn’t like tunnels now, and that feeling was unlikely to change in the next hour or so that we’d be spending underground.
Hours underground.
That thought made me breathe funny and put a twitch in my left eyelid. I tried telling myself that I’d just obliterated a couple of demons, one of which had been the size of a small house. We’d have lightglobes or torches, so it wouldn’t even be dark.
Most of Mid’s tunnels were natural; they’d been there for eons and weren’t likely to collapse on our heads.
I could tell myself all that, but it wasn’t going to improve how I felt. Nothing good had ever happened to me in a tunnel or cave. Multiple near-death experiences in a cave just a few days ago only further convinced me that Fate was going to finish the job the moment I set foot in the dank dark.
Think about the destination, Raine. Not the journey.
I had to get to Sirens, and when I did, Tam and I were going to talk.
I’d first met Tam at his nightclub in Mermeia. I was on a case to retrieve a client’s ring that her husband was about to gamble away at one of Tam’s high-stakes card tables. I came to Sirens that night as a customer; I conned my way upstairs as a seeker who was going to do her job come hell or high water.
Tam was overseeing the tables himself that night. He knew I hadn’t come to play, and somehow he also knew I was armed. I didn’t want any trouble, but I wasn’t leaving without that ring. Tam behaved like the perfect host, welcomed me to Sirens, and asked how he could be of service. I wanted to tell him he could serve me just fine by getting the hell out of my way. I tried to step around him; he blocked me. I had daggers strapped to my thighs under my gown and I considered using them, but I was in a high-class establishment and told myself that I could resolve this in a civilized manner. I told Tam why I was there, simply and directly.
My client got her ring back; Tam delivered it to her personally. It was a public relations coup and he knew it.
Tam told me later he did it to impress me. He needn’t have bothered. Being a Benares, I’ve always been attracted to rogues. Kind of like a moth to flame. And if Tam and I had really formed an umi’atsu bond, I wasn’t just singed; I was fried.
The entrance to the tunnels was in the shipping office at the back of the warehouse. I guess if you did business with certain people and dealt in certain commodities, a trapdoor in the floor of your office that led to tunnels could come in handy. The shipping office wasn’t large. It was no more than ten paces deep and not much more than that across. It had a desk and a couple of chairs with faded ledgers and maps scattered across the desk. The musty, cloying smell of old paper and mold made the air thick. Though that could be as much from cramming so many people into such a small space as anything else.
Uncle Ryn had assured me that this tunnel, after a couple of turns-and a little over an hour-would put us directly under Mid’s entertainment district. Leave it to a pirate to find the nightclubs, bars, and brothels on his first day in port. Like father, like son. His men knew the way, so I could keep my spells to myself. Yes, I was a seeker and could have easily found my own way to Sirens, but since I didn’t know who or what Carnades had looking for me, the safe thing to do was to keep my magic under wraps.
There would be nine of us going down into those tunnels and under the city to Sirens. It sounded like an unnecessary crowd to me; to Uncle Ryn it was barely adequate security. Phaelan, Vegard, and myself had an escort of six of my uncle’s most levelheaded crewmen. Level heads were good when going into a place where heavily armed and murderous bad guys might run at you out of the dark. I hated it when that happened. My eyelid twitched again and I put my finger on it to make it stop.
“Nervous?” Phaelan asked.
My eyelid fluttered under my finger; I pressed harder. “Guess.”
“Sarcasm won’t help,” he told me.
“It’s all I’ve got.”
“Tell me again why we’re going into a rotting, dark hole in the ground rather than taking our chances on the streets.”
“Carnades.”
Vegard and a crewman moved the desk in the corner of the office, exposing an iron ring attached to a trapdoor in the floor. Vegard opened it, and Phaelan and I gingerly leaned forward and looked down. Way down. It was just your basic nonthreatening, perfectly harmless, yawning black pit.
“Maybe that demon’s still chasing Carnades,” Phaelan ventured, still looking into the hole. “We’re not all that far from Sirens. I’m always up for a good sprint.”
“It’s across town and you know it,” I said. “It’s just dark and damp. There shouldn’t be anything down there, but if there is, we can handle it. There’s nothing down there. Right, Vegard?”