“We’ve got the two of them under lock and key,” Mychael was saying. “I can do a glamour to alter my face and ears. The man is close enough to me in build so that won’t be a problem. And as a spellsinger, I can change my voice.”

“That doesn’t do me any good. I’ve only done a glamour once and it didn’t go well.” And I didn’t want to do one again.

“Raine, you glamoured yourself into a man, an elven embassy captain no less, and talked your way into the embassy when every guard in the place was on battle alert.”

“And I lost the glamour.”

“Only when Piaras thought you were one of his jailers and punched you in the balls. That’d make any man lose any number of things, least of all his concentration. The embassy was on lockdown, yet you waltzed right in.”

I scowled. “Yeah, I had big balls that night.”

Mychael grinned. “So I heard. I’ve never heard of an anatomically correct glamour.”

“What can I say? I’m gifted. I was also motivated as hell. That might have been the only reason why the spell worked.”

“You don’t believe that and neither do I, or I wouldn’t have brought you here.” Mychael’s eyes were intent on mine. “Raine, I need your help. Kester Morrell and Maire Orla are the names of the humans Ghalfari hired through a local procurer by the name of Karl Cradock. We’re meeting Cradock in less than an hour at a tavern called the Bare Bones down on the waterfront.”

I sighed in resignation. I had to do this and I knew it. “What’s supposed to happen at this meeting?”

“Cradock will pay Morrell and Orla and give them the name of their target—and most important, we’ll be told where to deliver him.”

“What are the chances that it’ll be where Sarad Nukpana is hiding?”

“Slim, but if we can follow, we can find.”

I grinned slowly. “And lucky you, you’ve got one of the best seekers there is with you.”

“I think I’m the luckiest man in the world,” Mychael said softly.

Those words had more than one meaning and from his heated gaze, he meant all of them.

No time to think about Mychael getting lucky, though the visual popped into my head before I could stop it. Mychael knew and the heat in his eyes turned to a challenge.

“Are you in?” he asked, his voice very deep, very male.

I also tried not to think about Mychael’s strong hands roaming all over my naked body, touching, healing—heating. My face wasn’t the only part of me that flushed with warmth.

Mychael responded with a crooked grin. He knew exactly what I was thinking. “Well, are you?”

A wry smile curled my lips. “All the way.”

“Then let’s do it.”

Sarad Nukpana would want to kidnap either someone I cared about or someone whose death could be pinned squarely on me. I’d either be heartbroken or executed—someone I loved would die or I would. One or the other, and the choice hadn’t been mine until now. If I didn’t screw this up, and we pulled this off, and I found the son of a bitch, we could stop both from happening.

“One question.”

Mychael paused. “Yes?”

“What happened to ‘protect Raine at all costs’?”

“The costs have gotten too high. Kester Morrell never goes anywhere without Maire Orla. They’re partners. It’d tip Cradock off immediately if Morrell showed up for the payoff without her. What you did in the elven embassy was beyond amazing. You have a gift, and one that right now, quite frankly, I’m glad you have.”

“Even if that ‘gift’ came from the Saghred?” I didn’t even try to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

“Raine, you’re only linked to the Saghred—you are not that rock, and you never will be. You’re stronger than it is, and you need to start believing that.”

I snorted derisively. “Yeah, I’m stronger than a rock that flattens armies.”

“Has it flattened any armies lately?”

“No, but—”

“Because you haven’t let it. You haven’t fed it, and whenever it has tried to control you, you’ve stopped it. That strength is your gift, Raine.”

“I’m not strong. I’m just stubborn.”

A corner of his mouth quirked upward. “There’s no doubt in my mind that you’re stubborn, but you need to get rid of any doubt that you’re not strong enough for anything the Saghred, Nukpana, Carnades, Balmorlan, or anyone else throws at you, because they’re going to be throwing plenty.”

“And if all else fails, I’m a Benares, so I know how to fight dirty.”

“Strength, stubbornness, and underhanded tactics—you can’t lose.” Mychael’s expression turned solemn. “Raine, when we were first bonded I saw you, all of you. I know who you are; I saw your strength, your beautiful spirit. I know what you can do if you simply believe and give yourself the chance.” His next words were deliberate. “And I know what you would never do. That voice you hear, the Saghred’s voice, it’s lying when it says you’re weak; it says that to make you doubt, to make you afraid. Not of the Saghred, but of yourself. It lies because it is the one afraid of you.”

“Mychael, I’m afraid of myself.” I closed my eyes. I had to get the words out; I had to say it out loud. The fear had haunted my thoughts; maybe if I said it, admitted it, the fear would go away, or at least I could control it, before it and the Saghred completely controlled me.

To forget how good the Saghred’s full power coming awake inside of me had felt.

The power, the strength that had coursed through every part of me, to take, to kill. In the bordello, the urge to take that specter had felt good. Too good. Deep down, some dark core of me wanted to do it, wanted to feel that dark magic heating every part of me, needed to feel that destructive power hammering into my enemies.

I could defy the Saghred; but would I deny myself? And if I could deny myself, how long could I keep doing it?

I knew the answer to that question. That answer, that truth, scared me more than Sarad Nukpana, the Saghred, and every specter loose on the island.

My voice was a bare whisper. “What happened in the bordello, when the specter challenged me . . . I enjoyed it. I wanted to destroy that thing. I wanted to consume it.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to be like that.” I felt my fingers clench into fists. “I won’t be like that.”

“I won’t let it happen to you.”

My laugh came out bitter. “It already has and you know it.”

Mychael closed the distance between us and his long fingers slid under my chin, tilting my face up to his. His eyes were blue fire. “One step does not damn you.”

“There’s been more than one and you know it. Weeks ago when I crushed that demon in watcher headquarters, I—”

Mychael shook his head. “I don’t care how much you enjoyed what you did. It was a demon. It possesses and destroys, or kills and consumes. You killed a thing that needed to be killed. Yes, you may have enjoyed it; and yes, that exhilaration you felt undoubtedly came from using the Saghred. Power is exhilarating.” The fingers that had been holding my chin gently touched my face; his other hand was warm against my cheek as he cradled my face in his hands. “Using that power for good does not condemn you.” He paused. “Raine, would you have killed that demon again, even if you knew you would have to use the Saghred to do it?”

“Without hesitating.”

“Why?”

I blinked. “Why? Because it was trying to kill people. It might have succeeded. One of those watchers wasn’t moving; several weren’t moving. I don’t even know what happened to them.”

“You killed to protect, to defend. Does that sound evil to you?”

“No. But I—”

“Because it’s not.”

“But I still enjoyed it.”

“That doesn’t make you evil. The nature of the Saghred is temptation. It can’t do anything alone. It wants someone to use it. It needs someone to use it.”

“It’s chosen lucky me. And now it’s chosen you because of me. I’m the one who should be apologizing.”