No, no, no. “Christian MacKeltar.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He exploded from his chair and glared down at me.
Since he’d used Voice, I was obligated to say, “No,” although I knew the question had been rhetorical. The killing violence was back, over a simple name. Why? What significance did Christian’s name have to him? Did he know him? Closing my eyes, I sought the sidhe-seer place in my head. It was no help. I still couldn’t speak. How could I feel so much power in that hot, alien part of my mind, yet find nothing there of use to me in this situation?
“How did you meet Christian MacKeltar?”
“He works at the ALD at Trinity. I met him when you sent me to pick up the invitation to the auction from his boss, but she wasn’t there.”
His nostrils flared. “He must be a recent hire. They’ve been spying on me.”
He hadn’t used Voice, nor had he asked a question, so I said nothing.
“Have the MacKeltars been spying on me?”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I said, “Yes.”
“Have you been spying on me, Ms. Lane?”
“As much as I can.”
“What have you learned about me?”
I went poking around in my head again but whatever place I was supposed to discover remained a mystery to me. Aware that I was digging my own grave, one spadeful of information at a time, I told him. That I knew he wasn’t human. That I knew he was impossibly old. That I’d watched him step out of the Unseelie Sifting Silver he kept in his study, carrying the savagely brutalized corpse of a woman. That, like the Shades, the demons in there had fled his path.
He laughed. As if it was some kind of joke that I knew all his dark secrets. He didn’t try to explain or justify one bit of it. “And I didn’t think you could keep your own counsel. You knew these things and never said a word. You’re becoming interesting. Are you working with the MacKeltars against me?”
“No.”
“Are you working with V’lane against me?”
“No.”
“Are you working with the sidhe-seers against me?”
“No.”
“Are you working with anyone against me?”
“No.”
“Where do your loyalties lie, Ms. Lane?”
“With myself,” I shouted. “With my sister! With my family, and screw all of you!”
The violence in the room abated.
After a moment, Barrons resumed his seat in the chair across from me, absorbed my painfully stiff posture, and smiled without humor. “Very well, Mac. Relax.”
Mac? He’d called me Mac? I fought for breath. “Am I about to die?” I wheezed. “Are you going to kill me?”
He looked startled. I’d done it again. Spoken of my own will. He’d released my body, but not his hold on my mind and mouth. I could still feel it, compelling me, hurting me.
Then he snorted. “I tell you to relax and you think I’m going to kill you? You’re crippled by a woman’s illogic.” He added as a seeming afterthought, “You may speak freely now.”
The stranglehold on my throat was gone, and for a few moments I simply enjoyed the sensation of breath moving in and out of my lungs, of knowing my tongue was once again my own. I could feel V’lane’s name, piercing the meat of it, and realized that from the moment Barrons had used Voice to bind my will, it had somehow faded, receded beyond my reach. “I am not. The only two times you ever called me Mac is when I was near death. Since there’s no other threat around right now, you must be about to kill me. It’s perfectly logical.”
“I didn’t call you Mac.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I called you Ms. Lane.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did.”
I clenched my jaw. Sometimes, despite Barrons’ eternal old-world sophistication, and my glamour-girl cool, he and I very nearly devolve into childish fights. Frankly, I didn’t give a rat’s petunia what he’d called me, and wasn’t about to sit here and argue about it. I was free, and furious. I exploded from my chair, launched myself at him, and slammed both palms against his chest. I put every ounce of determination to Null into my hands that I could summon. My sidhe-seer core blazed like a small fiery sun in my head. Was he or wasn’t he Unseelie?
I hit him so hard that his chair toppled backward and we went skidding across the floor toward the fireplace, stopping inches from the grate. If he froze at all, it was for so brief a moment that I couldn’t decide if I’d nulled him, or merely startled him into a brief second of immobility.
Figured. More non-answers where Barrons was concerned.
I reared back, straddling him, and punched him in the jaw as hard as I could. He started to speak and I punched him again. I wished I’d eaten Unseelie. I was going to go eat ten of them tonight then come back here and finish him off, the hell with answers.
“How dare you saunter in here and force me to give you answers when you’ve never given me a single one?” I hissed. I punched him in the stomach, hard. He didn’t even wince. I punched him again. Nothing.
“You stand there all tan and glowing and wonder why I use Voice on you?” he bellowed. “Where the hell do you get off? You’ve been with V’lane again. How many slaps in the face do you think I’m going to take, Ms. Lane?” He grabbed my fist and held it when I tried to punch him again. I swung at him with the other. He caught that, too. “I warned you not to play us against each other.”
“I’m not playing you! I’m trying to survive. And I don’t slap you when I go off with V’lane!” I tried to yank my fists from his hands. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you. I’m trying to get answers, and since you won’t give me any, you can’t blame me for going somewhere else.”
“So, the man who doesn’t get laid at home has the right to go off and cheat?”
“Huh?”
“Which word didn’t you understand?” he sneered.
“You’re the one who’s crippled by illogic. This isn’t home, it never will be, and nobody’s getting laid!” I practically shouted.
“You think I don’t know that?” He shifted his body beneath me, making me painfully aware of something. Two somethings, in fact, one of which was how far up my short skirt was. The other wasn’t my problem. I wriggled, to shimmy my hem down, but his expression perished the thought. When Barrons looks at me like that, it rattles me. Lust, in those ancient, obsidian eyes, offers no trace of humanity. Doesn’t even bother trying.
Savage Mac wants to invite it to come out and play. I think she’s nuts. Nuts, I tell you.
“Let go of my hands.”
“Make me,” he taunted. “Voice me, Ms. Lane. Come on, little girl, show me some power.”
Little girl, my ass. “You know I can’t. And that makes what you did to me tonight even more unforgivable. You might as well have raped me. In fact, that’s exactly what you did!”
He rolled hard and fast, and I was on my back beneath him, with my hands pinned above my head, the weight of his body crushing me to the floor, his face inches from mine. He was breathing harder than the exertion merited.
“Make no mistake, Ms. Lane, I didn’t rape you. You can lie there on your pretty little P.C. ass and claim with your idealistic little P.C. arguments that any violation of your will is rape and that I’m a big, bad bastard, and I’ll tell you that you’re full of shit, and you’ve obviously never been raped. Rape is much, much worse. Rape isn’t something you walk away from. You crawl.”
He was off me and on his feet, stalking out the door before I’d even managed to catch enough breath to reply.