“What about him?”
“You and I know he won’t make it through the night if you don’t help me reach him. Can I come in? It’s freezing.”
Shock hesitates, glancing over my head, to the left and right, as if searching for spies. Finally, he glowers again and steps aside. “Three minutes.”
I enter the surprisingly warm place. Shock’s décor—or lack thereof—doesn’t interest me, but every wall is white, every stick of furniture black. Scratched hardwood floors with threadbare rugs run in a mismatched scattering all over the unit.
“You want to compare living spaces or discuss Ice?”
I swallow back both annoyance and guilt. “Tell me where to find him.”
He shrugs, indicating that he really doesn’t care. “I expected Duke or your brother to appear on my doorstep, pleading Rykard’s case, not you.”
“As I’ve said, Bram can’t, and Duke is busy. I’m sure you’re aware that, after murdering MacKinnett, Mathias has been nominated for the empty Council seat.”
“Are you surprised? Look, little girl. Mathias has no use for any of the Council, your brother especially. What friends have they been to those like me? And if he tried to kill Bram with that black cloud and your brother is still alive, that’s a testament to his strength of will. Something is keeping him alive. I wonder what.”
I shrug. Revenge? Pure stubbornness? His mysterious missing mate?
Shock’s scowl deepens. “Do the rest of the Doomsday Brethren know you’re here?”
The truth might make me vulnerable, but Shock is clever. He’ll quickly ferret out my lie…and he won’t take the deception well. “No.”
“Duke should have come. Perhaps Marrok. You have no business dabbling in what you scarcely understand.”
I’m far beyond the point of dabbling, damn him. “I understand perfectly that this is very dangerous. None of them could come. They don’t trust you.”
“And you do?”
“No. But you don’t have a reason to dislike me or want Mathias to dispense his personal brand of rape on me.”
Shock paces, keeping me pinned in his cramped foyer. I can’t see his reaction behind his sunglasses. Is he annoyed? Repelled? Or does he simply not give a shit?
Finally, he retreats. I’m shocked to see a tattoo of an abstract Celtic knot surrounding a lightning bolt across his back, sprawling from shoulder to shoulder. Nothing but black ink, bronze skin, and the incredible pain he must have endured.
Then the wizard turns again. “I saw Ice. Mopped up the blood after his first…conversation with Mathias. I took him a bit of food. His signature has changed since I last saw him.”
I close my eyes, fighting a wave of nausea. The image of Ice bleeding, broken, maybe dying… I force myself to breathe. Thank goodness he’s still alive—or was recently. But I know where this line of questioning is headed, so I play along. “Yes, he Called to me.”
“But you didn’t Bind to him.” It isn’t a question; Shock can see that in my magical signature.
“I want to speak to my brother first.”
Shock bellows out an ugly laugh. “Slumming it, Princess Sabelle? Like Deprived cock in your Privileged pussy?”
It takes everything inside me not to scream in his face. “I’m not dignifying that with an answer.”
“If you ‘speak to your brother’ about Binding to Ice, you think either of them will live through that conversation?”
“What will it take for you to tell me where Ice is?”
“Do you have any interest in Binding to Rykard?”
This might stun Shock down to his big, hairy toes, but… “Yes.”
He laughs again. “Won’t that fuck with your brother’s mood?”
Yes, and I’m losing patience with his odd mind games. Shock is always unpredictable, but tonight I’m on edge, and I need his help. Not for anything will I tell him that. “Are you going to help me or not?”
