“Agreed,” Ian said, making me more suspicious. He was never agreeable unless it suited him. “And for wasting your time, you have my sincerest apologies.” He punctuated that with a bow that managed to appear both graceful and contrite. “Since I’ve always considered words an insufficient form of amends, allow me to present an offering indicative of my remorse,” he finished, then whistled.
Three vampires I’d never seen before hurried into the amphitheater. Each carried three large crates stacked on top of each other. They set the crates down in front of the council. Ian whisked the lid off the first crate before I could sputter out an apology. He was trying to bribe the council into forgetting about his slanderous lawsuit?
“Ian,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “A word?”
“In a moment,” he said, pulling back a layer of packaging to reveal glass-enclosed, aged parchments. “Now, then, history considers the destruction of the Alexandria library in forty-eight b.c. as one of the world’s greatest losses of knowledge. Fortunately, as with many other things, history is incorrect. Not all the library was lost. Here is what remains.”
At that, Haldam actually got off his throne to take a closer look. After several moments of carefully rifling through the first crate, he turned to the other council members.
“This appears to be genuine.”
Haldam sounded so surprised, he didn’t seem to notice that he’d reverted back to speaking in his native Latin. Now all the council members got off their thrones to cluster around the crates and examine their glass-encased documents.
“How did you come to possess this?” Hekima asked.
Ian gave her a brilliant smile. “Mark Anthony presented the remains of the library to Cleopatra as a gift. Their daughter, Patra, later acquired it. You’ll remember Patra declared war on my sire, Mencheres, several years ago? After Patra was killed, her belongings were plundered by those who’d fought at Mencheres’s side. I claimed this library as my part of the spoils.”
I shook my head. Of course Ian wouldn’t settle for Patra’s gold, jewelry, or other everyday riches. He’d only want the rarest type of treasure as his prize. Now, he’d dazzled the council by gifting them with it. They would have taken offense at money, but the Alexandria library was priceless for its treasure trove of lost history. It was also rumored to contain many long-forgotten spells. In the council’s never-ending quest to stomp out magic, they’d want those spells in their hands versus the hands of other vampires.
I had to give Ian credit—the council was so entranced by discovering what treasures the scrolls contained, they barely seemed to notice him anymore. I had to take advantage of their distraction before one of them snapped out of their wonder over the return of the famed lost library and sentenced Ian to decades in prison for suing them.
“Since I’m still on leave, honorable judges, I’ll take my remaining time to straighten out this situation so it poses no further issue when I return to work,” I said.
“See that you do,” one of them murmured, too low for me to catch who. I did catch some of their glances as a few of them briefly looked up from the crates. They contained combinations of reproach, disdain, and other unflattering opinions.
They might be impressed by Ian’s gift, but their opinion of him hadn’t changed. Having our marriage confirmed didn’t just complicate things for me personally; it would also throw up roadblocks professionally. I’d seen it with other female Guardians who’d married people the council didn’t approve of, though male Guardians seemed exempt from this form of career censure. Humanity didn’t have a monopoly on sexism.
That was a problem for a later day. My immediate problem flashed a devilish smile at me. “Shall we?” Ian said, holding out his arm. “Unless you’d prefer me to carry you over the threshold, my not-so-blushing bride?”
My glare promised vengeance, but we had to get out of there. Still, I ignored his arm as I brushed past him.
“Veritas.” Xun Guan gave me a pained look when I reached her. “I am so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” I said it briskly, but I meant it. I was responsible for this mess, not her.
She brushed my cheek. “If I could have spared you this—”
“You could have,” Ian interrupted, reaching my side. “You chose not to. Knew you would. I might not remember much, but I remembered that.”
I was trying to absorb I might not remember much when Xun Guan’s dark brown eyes turned green and her hand dropped to her sword. Ian saw it and snorted. “We’re at court where all duels require legal merit. You have none. Laws, eh?”
“Why are you antagonizing her?” I asked, low.
“Because of how she looks at you,” he responded, his eyes never leaving Xun Guan’s face. “Now that we have this moment, let me be frank, Xun Guan. If you act on what’s in your gaze, I won’t make the mistake of treating you like some poor, lovelorn lass. I’ll treat you like the dangerous warrior you are and rip your head off the first chance I get. Quite clear?”
Her gaze was now blazing green and her knuckles whitened on the hilt of her sword. “It will be a pleasure to kill you when your time comes,” she said in Mandarin.
“Back at you,” Ian replied in the same language.
I pushed him out the door, hissing, “Haven’t you caused enough trouble?” while thanking all the gods that Mencheres immediately filled the space behind us. Now Xun Guan wouldn’t be tempted to follow Ian outside. Ian could beat her in a fight. Xun Guan didn’t know that, but I did, and I refused to play a part in her death.
Thankfully, Xun Guan didn’t follow us. My relief turned out to be short lived. As soon as we were outside of the amphitheater, Ian spun around. My hands were still in front of me since I’d been pushing him. He caught them, then hauled me close.
Time seemed to freeze. My grip on him instinctively tightened as I stared into his eyes, memories of the last time we’d been like this slamming into me.
I brushed my lips over his knuckles before releasing his hand. “Speaking of fighting, those demons screeching over their salt wounds aren’t going to kill themselves. Stay here. I’ll be back after I take care of them.”
Ian smiled, half teasing and half enticing despite being barely conscious. “Give me a moment and I’ll join you. Can’t have you tiring yourself out. We have a celebration . . .”
That’s all he’d gotten out before Dagon shoved that first bone knife through Ian’s skull. Once again, I heard my own scream and felt a surge of sheer panic as Ian’s eye began to smoke. “Don’t!” I shouted at Dagon. “Please, stop!”
Dagon had no intention of stopping. He’d only delayed to draw out my pain. I ripped my hands away, saying “Don’t touch me!” with all the vehemence of the grief I’d felt back then.
“Fine,” Ian said, stepping back. “I won’t touch you as long as you don’t attempt to disappear on me again.”
Panic of a new kind made me snap, “You heard the council. You can’t make me stay with you.”
“I can until you give me the answers you owe me,” he replied, his gaze hardening. “You wouldn’t do it by text, so now you’ll do it face to face.”