I kept my mouth shut all the way upstairs to Tam’s apartment above the theatre stage. I thought my restraint was nothing short of miraculous.

Tam walked in front of me, which gave me ample opportunity to stare daggers into his back-and to be reminded once again that Tam Nathrach had a great ass. Yes, I’d almost had my soul sucked out by one of Death’s minions, but some things a woman just couldn’t ignore. Tam was manipulative, secretive, and you couldn’t get a straight answer even if you choked it out of him-but his leather-clad posterior was without peer.

Tam spoke without turning. “Enjoying the view?”

I put a whole winter’s worth of frost into my voice. “It’s the first thing I’ve appreciated all day.” I didn’t appreciate being attacked, used, or threatened-and I despised being terrified.

All of the above pissed me off in ways that I couldn’t even begin to describe. Though when we reached the top of those stairs, I was going to give it a damned fine shot.

Vegard and Phaelan were going to wait on the landing below, and Uncle Ryn’s six crewmen were standing guard at the foot of the stairs in the theatre. The moment we’d stepped across Sirens’ threshold, Vegard expanded his job description to include chaperone. Mychael didn’t want Tam and I in the same room. I understood his concern, but I needed to talk to Tam alone. I had some questions for him that I didn’t want Vegard-but especially Mychael-to know the answers to yet. Vegard stayed on the landing, but he didn’t like it.

I almost told him that Tam and I didn’t need a chaperone, regardless of our umi’atsu bond, but I’d have been lying through my teeth. Tam and I have always needed a chaperone. He was a not-quite-recovered dark mage. Thanks to the Saghred, I was a dark mage magnet. The two of us were an apocalyptic, magical kaboom waiting to happen.

I’ve never been one for small talk, so when Tam closed the door behind us, that was my signal.

“When were you going to tell me?” I demanded.

Tam stopped and turned, and from his baffled expression, he honestly had no idea what I was talking about.

I was only too happy to enlighten him. I was still shaking from that Reaper wrapping itself around me, and all that rage and fear needed an outlet. “What we did with that Volghul, what we could probably do to any demon anytime or anywhere thanks to a certain umi’atsu bond-when were you going to tell me about that?”

Tam was silent for a moment. “Until this morning I didn’t know what we had was an umi’atsu bond.”

“But you knew it could happen.” I didn’t ask it as a question.

“I knew it was possible,” he said quietly.

“And you didn’t tell me.”

Tam’s black eyes locked on mine. “When I saw that Volghul through your eyes, I knew a Hellgate was open on this island, and I knew how much danger you and the boys were in. At that point, I had more important things to do than-”

I stiffened. “What else have you seen through me?”

“Nothing. I knew we had a link since that night under the elven embassy, but I didn’t know it was an umi’atsu bond until that Volghul showed up. Your fear for those students, for Piaras…” Tam stopped, and his jaw tightened. “And for Talon-was so strong that I felt it with you. Then I could see it. A connection that strong and clear could only happen with an umi’atsu bond. Once I realized what we had, I knew I could work through you to take down that Volghul.”

I took a deep breath and let it out, trying to calm myself for what I had to ask next. I had to be calm because when I asked it, Tam just might shock the hell out of me with a straight answer for once, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it. “I heard that it also makes us magically mated, married even.”

Tam had been married once before in the normal way to a Mal’Salin duchess, making him a Mal’Salin duke. His wife’s unsolved murder didn’t change his aristocratic status, even after he left the goblin court. Somehow I didn’t think the goblin royal family would be amused at one of their own being married-in any way, shape, or form-to an elf.

Tam stood in silence; he didn’t even blink. I think I was witnessing Tam Nathrach caught completely off guard. It was a first.

“Some segments of goblin society consider it binding,” he finally said.

“Binding as in close together, or as in legally binding?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Tam’s dark eyes were unreadable. “Yes, as in both answers are correct.”

I couldn’t believe my ears.

Tam spoke quickly, but firmly. “But for it to be legally binding, both parties must be in agreement that the bond should be established. Such ceremonies are planned with great care.”

My mouth was hanging open; I managed to get it closed.

Then it dropped open again and words made it out. “It is like a wedding.” My voice sounded small.

“There are similarities,” Tam admitted reluctantly.

I was totally speechless. Tam had never heard me at a loss for words. Today was just chock full of firsts. I felt a giggle bubbling up. I was probably two skips and a jump away from hysteria.

“I have never heard of an accidental umi’atsu bonding,” Tam assured me.

My voice was lined with steel. “Was it an accident?”

“You know it was.”

“Tam, I’m not sure of anything right now.”

“Our bond took hold in that alley,” he said. “What we did under the embassy probably completed the connection. The first was accidental; the second was necessary.”

I remembered the alley all too well. Tam was trying to keep me from being captured by the Khrynsani; he killed one of their shamans with a death curse in Old Goblin. It was the blackest of black magic and Tam wielded it with a master’s touch. The Saghred had responded to Tam-and so had I. We couldn’t have stopped what had happened between us. Under the elven embassy, we had no choice. It had taken nearly all the power both of us had to free those spellsingers and survive, and we’d only been able to do it together.

I knew Tam was a dark mage, and I knew what being a dark mage meant. Part of me just refused to dwell on Tam having ever done any of those things. If you were a mage, you’d been born with magic as a part of you. Through study and hard work, that magic grew and developed into specific talent. I was a seeker, a mediocre one until the Saghred latched on to me. I’d been resisting its power ever since. A dark mage wouldn’t have resisted. For them, power was an addiction, and the more power the mage got, the more they wanted-and the more they were willing to do to get it. Like use objects of power that only asked for a little something in return. Like the Saghred and its soul collection. Feed the rock; get the power. Supernatural creatures offered the same temptations, but demanded different payment.

Some still wanted sacrifices or suffering, others wanted freedom from all restraint, and some, like demons, wanted entry into our world. If you gave them what they wanted, they gave you more power; and if the monster you summoned took a liking to you, they might even teach you a thing or two-things that no mortal had any business knowing.

I’d always told myself that whatever Tam had done while in the goblin court, he’d done it to survive. Maybe. But no one had forced him to be the goblin queen’s magical enforcer. He’d wanted the job and he’d gone after it; and by doing whatever he had to do, he’d stayed at his queen’s right hand for five years. In constantly shifting goblin court politics, five years was an eternity.

When Tam left the goblin court, he’d gotten help for his addiction. He blamed his ambition for his wife’s murder. Call it what you will-intervention, black-magic rehab-Tam had fought his way back from the brink. I wasn’t going to be the cause of his relapse.

“How do we get rid of it?” I asked him point-blank.

Tam looked genuinely puzzled. “Get rid of it?”