Most of my work for Markus involved finding pilfered elves—diplomats, intelligence agents, assorted nobles. The kind of people the less savory members of my family would love to get their ransom-grubbing hands on. It was gratifying work and I was good at it.

The agency was always looking to acquire fresh talent.

I sat up slowly. Sometimes they acquired without asking the talent.

Carnades spotted me—I’d already seen him—and the tension in the room popped up a couple of notches real quick.

"Ma’am,” Vegard warned.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be good if he will. But if he’s looking for trouble, I will give it to him.”

“I’ve been ordered to sit on you, ma’am,” the Guardian told me. He didn’t sound very enthused about trying.

“I know.” I gave him my best evil grin, then turned back to watching Carnades and his merry minions.

They sat at one of the tables closest to the stage. Piaras had just finished his warm-up.

I tensed, but kept my seat. Me going to Piaras would just get him the wrong kind of attention. He would be performing a sleepsong, but this version wasn’t for a battlefield; it was for a nursery. If Taltek Balmorlan or anyone else in the theatre came to hear a weapon, they were going to be really disappointed. But that didn’t mean we couldn’t let everyone know that messing with Piaras would be a very bad idea.

“Vegard?”

“Ma’am?”

“I know all these Guardians are for me, but could you spare a few to discreetly, but obviously, arrange themselves at the base of the stage when Piaras is singing?”

The big Guardian was instantly beside me. “The boy’s in danger?”

“Not immediately, but someone here might be spellsinger shopping.”

Vegard knew exactly what I meant and growled something that summed up my thoughts perfectly. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you, Vegard.”

“Always my pleasure, ma’am.”

He went to Riston and they spoke quickly in lowered voices. Even I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I didn’t need to. Within half a minute, five fully armed and really good-sized Guardians had arranged themselves around the base of the stage, their broad backs to Piaras, their stony expressions toward the audience. Piaras looked out at me; his eyes widened briefly. I smiled and gave him an encouraging nod. Piaras didn’t know what was wrong, if anything, but he knew that me and the boys had it under control.

Piaras walked to the middle of the stage. He looked out and saw who was in the audience. He didn’t know any of them, but he couldn’t have liked that every eye was on him, anticipating his first note. Piaras closed his eyes and took a breath and let it out. It was shaky. Then he raised his head and resolutely fixed his gaze on the back of the theatre where there was no one staring at him.

Piaras sang without accompaniment. No instrument marred his voice’s pure, unadorned perfection. The words and tune were a soothing lullaby, but flowing beneath them was a depth of power most spellsingers could only dream of. The sleepsong was for a baby, not a battalion, but that didn’t matter. Piaras couldn’t hide his strength. And he had the rapt attention of everyone in the theatre. There had been talking during the other spellsingers’ practices. No one spoke now or even moved. Entirely too many people in that audience had just had their suspicions confirmed. Damn. I couldn’t see the faces of anyone at Carnades Silvanus’s table. But I could see some of the goblins, and I didn’t like the looks Piaras was getting. To them the Guardians were just furniture to be pushed aside or ignored, and Piaras a treat to be taken and enjoyed. In that moment, I understood why Carnades hated goblins.

I didn’t hate goblins, but I could have a momentary change of heart for that bunch.

Piaras finished his song to thunderous applause. One of the goblins gave him a standing ovation. He had the high cheekbones and handsome, angled features of a pure, old-blood goblin. His black eyes were bright as he shouted, “Bravo!”

The bastard.

Piaras left the stage and stopped to confer with Ronan. Two of the Guardians moved closer to him, blocking anyone from access. No one tried. I had to hand it to Mychael’s men—they had the bodyguard thing down pat.

I felt a presence brush my skin like fingertips. I sat perfectly still.

It was Tam.

I couldn’t see him, but I didn’t need to. I could feel him just fine.

“Raine, you shouldn’t be here.”

I gasped at the sudden intimate contact. Tam’s voice brushed against my mind like dark silk.

Vegard looked at me, and I quickly coughed.

“Dry throat,” I rasped at his concerned expression.

Tam and I had spoken mind-to-mind before. Many times.

“Mychael didn’t want me here, either,” I said. “You know I never do as told. Especially when I haven’t been given a good reason. Now what the hell is going on?”

I slouched in my chair. Keep it casual, Raine. I wanted answers from Tam; I didn’t want to tip off Vegard. I turned my head toward the stage as if the human kid up there now running through scales was simply fascinating. My eyes flicked up to the right of the stage, then up to the first dining suite.

There he was. The dining suites were dark and Tam blended in perfectly. My elven eyes could just see him, his beautiful, silvery face silhouetted against the shadows. Vegard was human and if he looked at the suite, he would only see the shadows.

I had promised Mychael I wasn’t going anywhere near Tam. I could keep my promise and talk to Tam at the same time. And I could stay safe while doing it.

“Trust your instincts, Raine. You are not safe here. You’re being watched.”

I kept my face neutral. “By who?”

Tam met my question with silence.

“What have the Khrynsani got on you?”

No response.

“You can’t tell me—or won’t?”

I saw Mychael on the opposite side of the theatre conferring with some newly arrived blue-robed mages. He stopped and looked at me. I gave him a little smile and a wave—and held my breath. He shouldn’t be able to sense me mindspeaking to Tam. If he could, he’d have been over here in an instant. Mychael held my gaze a moment longer, then turned back to the mages.

“The men in blue robes are Conclave shield weavers,” Tam told me. “They’re reinforcing the stage’s shields. Since these are Ronan’s best students, I can’t risk anyone being hurt.”

“Some risks are worth taking, Tam. I want to help you.”

“Sometimes you can risk hurting someone just standing close to them.”

“What happened in that alley won’t happen again. I won’t let it.”

Tam’s low laugh brushed against me like the softest fur. I shivered and gripped the chair’s armrests. Tam had never been able to do that before.

“Stop it.”

His laughter stopped. “Just a demonstration, Raine. What happened between us is still there. We’re not entirely separate anymore. Mychael knows this. Some things are beyondmortal control—and some things are impossible to resist.Like you. Please stay away from me.”

Don’t think about Tam. Don’t think about what we did, or what I’d like to be doing again right now. Eternal damnation versus amazing sex. Close, but no contest. Amazing sex didn’t last nearly long enough—damnation lasted an eternity. That tossed a bucket of ice water on my lust.

“What have the Khrynsani got on you?”

Silence. “It’s complicated,” he finally said.

“With you it always is,” I muttered. “I’m a bright girl, Tam. I can handle complicated. You’d be surprised at the knots I can untangle. You made a bargain, but you didn’t keep it. Then you killed the person you made the bargain with. In my family that makes any and all deals null and void. How does it work in your family?”