The Masked City Page 56

Irene looked up at him, and she knew that her dislike showed in her eyes. ‘You can expect a number of things from me, but I hope you don’t expect me to enjoy this. And I can’t see why you didn’t tell me that before.’

‘I didn’t tell you previously because I didn’t know,’ Silver said. ‘Messengers from the Ten were waiting at our hostelries to give us the news, to add to the drama. I suppose I might have thought of it myself, but it seemed rather extreme. The Carceri were built to hold our own kind. I would have thought that a normal dungeon would be quite good enough for a mere dragon prince. And as for you enjoying this, or not enjoying this, that’s rather the point.’

He picked up one of the small pieces of sugared pastry from his plate. ‘You see, my little mouse, I do need something from you. I am Fae, after all, and I can’t sustain myself on honour and helpfulness alone. It’s quite beyond my nature. Much as you’d like me to just answer your important questions. If I can’t provoke some utter and absolute desire, then some thorough shame and hatred will do nearly as well. And I’ll sense if I don’t get it. Now open your mouth, and let me feed you your breakfast—’ He must have caught the way she flinched back from him. She was hardly attempting to hide it. ‘Or you can simply walk out of here, and try to manage on your own. It’s entirely up to you.’

Irene had to take a couple of deep breaths to keep herself kneeling next to Silver’s bed. Her hands knotted in her linen skirts as she focused on not slapping his face. ‘Can we make a bargain?’ she asked.

‘I’m prepared to listen.’ Silver held the pastry just above the level of her face, looking down at her with such an air of appreciation that he should have been licking his lips.

Irene rose to her feet. ‘Then I think I’ll settle for the shame and humiliation.’ Anger ran in her veins, hotter than blood, and she looked down on him in disgust. ‘Yours.’

‘What?’ He had to roll back on his elbow to look up at her, and his dressing gown fell open to bare a triangle of chest. Fragmented desire flickered in her, as she responded to the power he radiated, but it was easily driven back by her irritation. ‘How dare you!’

Irene turned her back on him to walk across the room and seat herself in one of the chairs, taking her time about it and arranging her skirts neatly before replying. ‘Lord Silver. You addressed me as “lady” earlier. I would prefer you to continue doing so, rather than treating me like a subordinate - and an inferior subordinate at that.’

Silver’s eyes caught the light like faceted gems, as his face drew into an arrogant snarl of offended pride. ‘You were the one who came here asking questions,’ he snapped. ‘I don’t like this sort of behaviour, Miss Winters. I don’t like it at all.’ There was that lick of passion to his words again, stronger this time, as he focused on her.

But the fact that he was trying to bargain at all gave Irene the proof she needed. He wasn’t in control of the situation at all - not in general, here in Venice, and definitely not here in this room with her. At this precise moment he needed her help far more than she needed his. And all his little games had been to try and keep her off-balance, to stop her realizing that fact. She let herself smile. ‘Lord Silver, I don’t care what you like or don’t like. Right here and now, if I don’t rescue Kai, Lord Guantes will triumph, and you are doomed. You can give me the information I want, and that might just save you. Or you can lounge in bed and eat pastries until the roof falls in on your head. It is entirely up to you. Because, to be honest, whether or not you meet a horrible fate at Lord Guantes’ hands really doesn’t matter to me. Kai matters. You don’t.’

He stared at her. And then he smiled. It wasn’t precisely a nice smile: it was a suggestive curve of the lips, a hint of metaphorical teeth - an expression that left absolutely no humour in his eyes. But it was a smile. ‘My lady Winters, you are blossoming in the airs of this place, like a rose in spring. Do tell me what else you would like to know.’

‘Everything,’ Irene said drily. ‘But we’ll start with these Carceri. I assume the name is more than just the word prison in Italian?’

Silver swung himself upright, dangling his legs over the edge of the bed. ‘I don’t know how much you little Librarians know about my kind,’ he started. ‘I will assume that you have all the scandalous highlights, but very little of anything useful. So, to start by explaining this place: you know that as my kind grow in power, we become more true to ourselves?’

As in: become walking stereotypes. Irene nodded in assent, choosing to keep her eyes on his face rather than look elsewhere.

‘Well.’ He selected another piece of pastry. ‘Some of us become so great that we can no longer be confined by a single sphere or world. You know of the Rider, who brought us here?’

Irene nodded again. ‘And his Horse,’ she put in, to show that she was paying attention.

Silver shrugged. ‘That as well. But as we grow stronger, we can walk between worlds. They tremble at our passing.’ He smiled at the thought, and the morning light made his face beautiful in spite of his words. ‘At that level we can no longer touch or enter the shallower spheres, or we would break them - still less endure the small worlds that your friend Kai comes from.’

Irene shivered, grateful that at least some worlds might be free from these most powerful of Fae.