Tam was standing alone, no dark mage hit squad, just him. His cloak blew back to reveal leathers and at least one blade at his hip. I was sure there were more. No battle braid contained his hair. It was down and blowing in the evening breeze. Sora was right; I had some damned fine taste in men.

Phaelan stepped up behind me.

“Permission to come on board, Captain Benares?” Tam asked formally.

Phaelan blew his breath out through his nose. He wasn’t going to like it, but he was going to do it-for me. “Permission and welcome,” he called out.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He smiled faintly. “Who am I to judge?”

Sora nodded in greeting to Tam and then went to join Vegard and Arlyn. Tam sat on the bench next to me. I leaned back against the mainmast.

Tam glanced down at the keg. “You’ve been drinking.”

“Extensively.”

“May I ask why?”

“You can’t guess?”

Tam didn’t say a word as his dark eyes gazed out over the harbor. “Piaras’s ceremony went well?” That was one thing you could always count on with a goblin-when a topic wasn’t to their liking, they’d change it.

“It was perfect,” I told him.

“I’m glad; he deserves it. I would have liked to have been there, but…”

“The three of us together in a room full of Conclave mages isn’t the best idea right now,” I finished for him.

I didn’t need to say out loud who was the third one of “us.” Heck, with our umi’atsu bond, Tam and I didn’t have to talk out loud at all. But to use the bond would be to acknowledge it. Until we could do something about breaking that bond, denial was working just fine for me.

“People could see us here,” Tam said.

“I don’t give a damn who sees us.”

“You might tomorrow.”

“Then I’ll deal with it-and with them-tomorrow. You came here alone,” I said accusingly. “Anyone could have seen you, or worse.” I stopped and cringed. Way to go Raine. The demons probably ate his dark mage school buddies; he doesn’t have any guards anymore, and you just-

“Four of them are recovering at Sirens,” Tam said, plucking my thoughts like grapes. “The rest stayed there to protect them and Talon.” His face was set like stone. “If anyone had attacked me on my way here, they would have paid dearly for the privilege.”

I didn’t doubt that.

“Raine,” Tam said quietly. “Dark magic will always be a part of who I am.”

“I know. Even if I could pound the Saghred into dust right now, what it’s given me will always be with me, too.”

We sat for a while without speaking, in an awkward yet companionable silence. The Fortune rocked gently beneath us as the tide came in.

Tam shifted slightly and laid his hand on the mast’s smooth wood. “Remember the last time we were here together?”

Like I could have forgotten. Now there was a good-bye a woman could remember. When I’d left Mermeia, and Tam had stayed, he’d come down to the Fortune to see me off. Tam’s idea of saying good-bye had been slamming me against the mainmast and kissing me passionately enough to curl my toes.

“I didn’t want you to forget me,” he said.

“No chance of that, with or without that kiss.”

More than a kiss joined us now.

Tam’s voice was a bare whisper. “Raine, if there was no Saghred, no umi’atsu bond, no Carnades or anyone like him… would there be any chance for the two of us, knowing what I am, what I’ve done?”

“Tam, I don’t know everything you’ve done, only what you’ve told me. And I’m getting the impression that it’s just the tip of a very big iceberg.”

“If you knew, you might not want to see me again.”

One corner of my lips curled in a tiny smile. “Don’t be too sure. I’m a Benares. Our standards of proper behavior are a little different from everyone else’s.” I pushed at my mug with the toe of my boot. “You’ve changed since then.” I didn’t look at him, but kept my eyes on the ale sloshing in the mug. “And you’re doing the best you can to stay that way, and you’re confronting your past as it comes at you. You have to be strong to do that, and brave. I admire you for both.”

Tam laughed once, without humor. “Neither one has been easy.” He paused. “And my best might not be good enough.”

I nodded. “Especially with me around.”

“You have always been a delectable temptation.” Tam’s voice caressed the words like dark silk.

A delicious shiver ran down my spine. Tam was no spellsinger, but his voice could do all kinds of things that had nothing to do with magic and everything to do with seduction. And attraction. Don’t forget attraction, Raine. Like a moth to a flame.

“And the Saghred’s power makes me that much more desirable,” I said bluntly.

“Raine, I don’t want the Saghred. I want you.”

There it was.

“For the foreseeable future, we’re a package deal,” I said, my throat tight. “Wanting me will get you killed; the Saghred will get you damned. You can’t have one without the other.”

“Then I’ll take both.” His voice had a raw edge. It wasn’t Tam’s black magic talking; it was all Tam. I could almost feel his need, his desire to take what he wanted and damn the consequences.

Tam’s hand was between us, and I reached down and took it. With our bond, I could feel the blood surging through his veins, quickening at my touch. Tam wanted to touch me; he wanted to take me in his arms and make it all go away.

I didn’t look at him. “Mychael’s asked A’Zahra Nuru for help.”

“I know. I suggested it.” He sat in silence, until the tension was as thick as the mast at our backs. “Raine, I want to share an umi’atsu bond with you, but not if it would harm you. With the Saghred connecting us, it would do more than harm, it could destroy you. I won’t risk that.”

I looked up sharply. “You’re going to risk separating us?” And risk losing your magic and your life. I didn’t have to say it; we both knew it.

Tam nodded once. “It has to be done.”

“Maybe that’s a risk we don’t have to take.”

He looked at me. “What do you mean?”

I told him my plans for finding a way to destroy the Saghred.

“Those are long odds, Raine.”

“I’ve seen worse. You’re a gambling man. How about it?”

“The rock has the best cards,” he countered, but I could see a trace of a smile and a peek of fang.

I met his smile and raised him a grin. “Then we’ll cheat.”

Tam squeezed my hand. “Then deal me in. But we’d better play our hand quick. There are new players coming to the table.” He took a deep breath, slowly let it out, and didn’t say anything for a couple of heartbeats. That didn’t bode well. “Imala Kalis is on the island,” he said quietly.

“Who-”

“She’s the chief of goblin intelligence.” Tam hesitated. “She was in the Assembly after we’d closed the Hellgate.”

“The one you saw?”

Tam nodded.

And the one he’d lied about.

“How much trouble will she be?” I asked.

“Possibly more than we can handle.”

“I take it that you know her.”

“I do.”

Tam didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t really want to know how well Tam knew her. He had been the goblin queen’s magical enforcer; Imala Kalis was the chief of goblin intelligence. I imagine they’d worked together. Very closely together.

My ale and my stomach suddenly didn’t agree with each other. “Okay, so the chief of goblin intelligence saw what we did. What will she do about it?”

“Nothing, for now. Imala doesn’t believe in wasting good information. She will wait until revealing it is the most advantageous for her.”

“What a sweetheart. Has she contacted you?”

“Not yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”

I thought of Markus Sevelien telling Carnades to sit tight. Markus horded information like a miser horded gold. But unlike a miser, Markus didn’t keep what he horded; he used it. And like Imala Kalis, he used it when it would have maximum effect.

“I have a source in the goblin embassy,” Tam said. “I received one report, but I haven’t heard from him since.”