‘I do not know.’ Malik’s expression hardened, his hand holding my ankle flexing with restrained strength. ‘Yet.’

For a moment, I was gleeful that Mad Max would end up at Malik’s mercy, then my glee muted to disappointment that whatever Mad Max was up to, Malik wasn’t up to speed with it. Still, if he didn’t know about Mad Max, he had to know about my gatecrashing his dream of kneeling in the snow, and talking to someone about sanguine lemures– the blood of undead ghosts. After all, he’d told me I had to leave the dream, had pulled me out of it, even. But knowing that didn’t make it easier to ask him; not when it suddenly hit me that my dreamcrashing had been a huge invasion of privacy.

‘Something else weird happened last night,’ I said, pulse speeding nervously, ‘I think I accidentally ended up in your dream. Or memory . . .’ I trailed off as the boat rocked, horror crossing his face and he released my foot, too quickly for me to stop it thumping down on the wooden planks. Then the boat settled and his usual enigmatic mask dropped like a shutter over his face.

‘My apologies, Genevieve. I did not intend to bring you into my memories. I imagine that the spell you removed’ – he touched the faint scar on his forehead – ‘and partly absorbed was responsible. The jellyfish organism had been feeding on my blood, which contained the power of Red Shamrock.’ Red Shamrock vamps could share or even steal memories.‘I will take more care in future.’

I scrambled to sit up. ‘I don’t think it was all down to you.’ I told him about the Morpheus Memory Aid and that the bizarre side-effect was no doubt brought on by my usual iffy reaction to magic. ‘So really I’m the one who needs to apologise.’

He inclined his head in acknowledgement. ‘Then we should both endeavour to take more care in future, Genevieve.’

‘Probably a good idea,’ I agreed with a smile, then said tentatively, ‘Your memory didn’t feel happy . . .’ I trailed off as flames flared in his pupils, then snuffed out, leaving his eyes black and opaque. Damn, was he mad? Or what? ‘I’m sorry, Malik. I didn’t mean to pry’ – the magic pricked at me for sort of lying – ‘well, not in a bad way. Maybe if you want to talk about it, I could help?’

Something indefinable darkened his eyes. ‘Thank you, but the incident happened in the past and it is not one I wish to discuss.’

Hurt flashed in me. Not that he wouldn’t clue me in about his memories, but that his tone was the same chill one he’d used before to push me away. Instinctively, I pulled my feet under me. ‘Fair enough,’ I said, angry at myself, when my words came out less neutrally than I wanted.

He took in a breath, nostrils flaring, then his sorrow and regret slipped like a wisp of shadow over me – mesma. ‘I did not intend’ – he dipped his head, letting his loose black hair obscure his face for a moment, reminding me of Katie when she was anxious, then a brisk wind blew his hair back to reveal his beautiful features set in a grim expression – ‘I will tell you of the . . . memory, Genevieve. But it is one that is difficult for me to recount and I think it is more pertinent that we first talk of those matters that could be of concern to us now. For the rest, we have the night before us, do we not?’

A knot inside me loosened. He wasn’t cutting me off, he was just postponing. And he was right. We did have all night to chat. And maybe more.And sitting in a small rowboat in the middle of a moonlit boating lake was as perfect a place as any to do it. So might as well get the less personal stuff out of the way first.

‘Okay,’ I said slowly, then as he held out his hand in an obvious peace offering, I uncurled my legs and let him lift my other foot and slip my trainer off. I relaxed back as his long fingers started to weave their Sokushin Do magic.

‘It may be that I could help you with retrieving the memory you wished to enhance,’ Malik said softly, ‘if you would allow me to?’

‘Thanks.’ I smiled. ‘I would, but I got what I needed from the spell’ – ID-ing Katie’s treacherous spy boyfriend – ‘but there was something else.’ I told him about waking to find my bed covered in crimson rose petals. His frown let me know, as I’d thought, the petals weren’t down to him. I added that either I’d subconsciously calledthe petals myself (as Finn had suggested, not that I mentioned him) or that maybe Mad Max might have had something to do with them.

‘So what do you think?’ I asked.

‘I will look into it, Genevieve.’ Malik’s mouth thinned, his thumb pressing uncomfortably hard into the ball of my foot. I tensed before I could stop. His touch danced lighter and I gave an appreciative sigh then reluctantly got my mind back onto business as he asked, ‘Can you tell me about this connection between the Emperor and the Bangladeshi ambassador?’

‘You know the ambassador’s wife and kid have been kidnapped?’ The story was splashed all over the news so I’d have been surprised if Malik hadn’t, but it always pays to check. He nodded. ‘Well, I got another tarot card. It showed the ambassador under attack at the mosque by a werewolf, so I went to find out what it had to do with the fae’s trapped fertility. When I arrived I saw the ambassador talking to this couple and my gut said werewolves. So I added two and two, rightly or wrongly, and came up with their being the kidnappers. Then, as the ambassador wasn’t going anywhere, or so I thought, I decided to follow them to see if they might lead me to the victims.’

His hold on my ankle tightened, making me squirm. ‘That could have been a rash decision.’

He wasn’t wrong, but— I held my arm out and released Ascalon. The silver of the sword gleamed in the moonlight. ‘I have this, remember.’ He’d seen the sword once before.

‘That sword will not protect you from everything, Genevieve.’

‘Yeah, I know that,’ I said, a little of my exasperation lacing my voice as I let Ascalon slide back into my ring. ‘But waving a magic sword around does usually make people think twice. And I’m not totally stupid. I wasn’t planning to do anything other than observe from a distance. Plus, I left a blood trail for you to follow, if needed, and I stayed off the “likely to be ambushed here” path.’ I winced as his fingers again dug none too gently into my foot. ‘Which was when I lost them. If I hadn’t seen you, I’d have gone back to the mosque. And I told Tavish what I was about too.’ Sort of, anyway.

Wariness crossed Malik’s face. ‘The kelpie knows where you are?’

‘More or less.’ I lifted the tiny blue bottle from where it dangled on its chain around my neck. ‘He also gave me this. It’s werewolf repellent, and believe me, this stuff will clear a crowd.’ I let the bottle rest back between my breasts and, as Malik’s gaze followed and lingered, couldn’t resist a little back arch, then almost swore as I remembered— ‘Oh, and I need to let Tavish know I’m okay before midnight, so he doesn’t come rushing to my rescue.’

The boat rocked again as Malik lifted his gaze back to mine; the dangerous, dark look in his eyes sent a frisson of desire spiralling through me. ‘Then perhaps you should call him and tell him you are safe.’ His words carried a hint of question as he offered me his phone.

I kept my eyes on his as I reached out and took it. A tension I’d barely registered left him as I did; he hadn’t been sure I’d put Tavish off. Inwardly, I smiled; good to know Malik didn’t think anything between us was a done deal.

I sent Tavish a text, not wanting to get into a discussion as to why I was with Malik when Tavish had warned me off seeing him, then handed the phone back. ‘Thanks.’

It chimed with an answer a moment later. Malik’s enigmatic expression didn’t change as he read, then sent a short reply.

‘Do I want to know?’ I asked.

He pocketed the phone with a grim twist of his mouth. ‘The kelpie cares greatly for your wellbeing, Genevieve.’