Scorched Treachery (Imdalind, #3)

“Do I need to be here for this?” Cail asked, the irritation heavy in his voice. “I only help you, not him, after all.”


“By helping me, you are helping him,” I reminded him, but he only ignored me, sitting back on the bed and putting his muddy feet on the clean bedspread. Great, I didn’t want to see the bill for that.

“What is he doing here?” I spun at the thick voice, surprised to see not Ilyan, but Talon standing in front of the door.

“I might ask you the same question?” I said, my eyes narrowing at him.

“Ilyan is indisposed. So he sent me in his place.” He stood straight and tall, his eyes focused on the opposing wall, anywhere but on me.

“You can stutter?” I asked, the impressiveness of that feat heavy in my voice, even I could not stutter.

“No.”

“Then how did you get here?” Talon narrowed his eyes at me briefly before glancing at Cail. His message was clear. He may trust me, which I doubted, but he did not, under any circumstances trust Cail. There were not many who did.

“Why did you call for us?”

He still wasn’t looking at me, a small detail that I wasn’t going to push. It had taken him a hundred years to come face to face with me and another hundred not to draw his sword every time I was near. This was a marked improvement.

I handed over the papers silently. Talon took one glance before looking back to me, his eyebrow raised.

“These are the names of our next assignments.”

Talon’s eyes widened. “But Dramin was the first.”

“Yes,” I said knowingly, cocking my head at him. That was the point.

“And Thom.” He crinkled the papers in his large fist before shoving them in his pocket. “Does Edmund know where they are?”

“I am not sure,” I answered, looking back to my brother who was dutifully ignoring us with a newly lit cigarette in his mouth, the ugly American hat laid low over his eyes.

“He knows,” Talon said, his deep voice quiet. I wasn’t even sure he had meant to speak aloud.

“Excuse me?”

“They travel together, with Sain. It isn’t a coincidence that these names came up together.”

Lovely.

“So, your position with us has been discovered?”

I could only nod.

“Then you need to come with me.” He reached forward and placed his big hand around my forearm, his grip too tight and hurting me. I zapped him, the small shock sending a warning, and he dropped me quickly, his eyes narrowing dangerously at me.

“We had a deal, Wynifred.” Why was he pleading with me? That seemed a little out of character for him.

“What of Cail, Talon?” I spat, not even trying to keep the acid from my voice. “He has risked just as much for you and Ilyan, and one of those names was delivered to him, not to me.”

“The deal did not include Cail,” Talon said, his shoulders squaring as he went back to staring beyond me.

I sighed before my feet took me to pace around him, the irritation causing my movements to get jumpy.

“Then I want to make a new deal,” I said after a moment, coming to a stop to face him.

“What could you possibly have that Ilyan would want?” Talon looked at me, and I stepped back. I wasn’t one to step away from a man, but something in his eyes had changed, the subtly of it catching me off guard.

“The fire magic.”

“What would I do with that?” Ilyan asked from the corner, causing me to jump, my hand covering my heart as I turned to face him. He sat on top of the high wardrobe, looking as thoroughly American as Cail tried to be, except the rugged look actually suited him. The limestone dust was a little much. There was authenticity and then there was trying too hard.

Limestone.

They were working on the estate. I couldn’t help but smile at the ingeniousness of it all. What better way is there to gain knowledge of the layout of your enemy’s fortress than to build it?

“I don’t need your magic. I have no use for it,” Ilyan said as he moved down to the floor, his tall frame towering over me.

“Then bind it, it is my payment to you for saving my brother,” I pleaded, taking a step toward him out of habit.

“What if I don’t want to be saved?” Cail’s voice was loud from the bed that sat in the corner of the room, causing us all to turn to face him. “What if I like where I am at, because, no offense, Ilyan, but I don’t trust you. You killed my mother in cold blood. Tsk tsk. Why should I trust you?”

“It wasn’t cold blood, Cail. You know that as much as anyone.”

“Yes, revenge is often a good reason.” Cail lifted his hat to look at Ilyan, the metal of the bed frame squeaking as he sat up. “She breaks up your parents bond, and you kill her. Seems honorable to me.”

“She was your father’s pawn,” Ilyan said simply, his voice level. I looked between the two of them. Cail had always been good at triggering emotions from others, but Ilyan seemed immune to his taunts. How interesting.