The Wicked

In fact, Carling had suggested that he petition the Oracle about the problem of his curse, but he had been too disheartened by their conversation to follow through with her advice.

He didn’t see how a prophecy from the Oracle could help him. The Oracle could only tell him what he already knew, that he would become totally blind within the next twelve months if he didn’t find some way to stop what was happening to him. He had sent a dozen teams into various parts of the world to try to find ways to break the goddamned curse, which, according to Carling, was a massively expensive, futile effort. But he could no longer leave any avenue unexplored, so he needed to consult with the Oracle as soon as he finished this latest expedition.

He set his own issues aside for the time being to consider what else he knew that was relevant to the success of this expedition. Djinn rarely became intimately involved with anyone outside their own race, and Grace’s relationship with the Djinn Khalil of the House Marid had become famous.

And Sebastian had heard a thing or two about Khalil’s daughter.

He frowned. I do not understand what made Carling bargain away a favor for help from a Djinn who is reputed to be a pariah.

Olivia’s gaze fell. She appeared to concentrate on running a forefinger precisely along the edge of the table. His attention sharpened on the movement. Her fingernails were trimmed short, the nail bed of her forefinger a healthy pink.

He thought of her doing the exact same gesture, only this time running her finger down his bare skin. The skin along his back prickled lightly with goose bumps, and his breathing deepened.

He set his reaction aside and focused on what was relevant. You know something about the bargain.

She shook her head. It’s not my place to say anything. Anyway, it isn’t any of our business.

Everything to do with this expedition is my business, he told her. You might as well tell me. Otherwise, I’ll call Carling and ask her about it. She’ll tell me everything I want to know, so don’t waste my time.

Her gaze lifted again, and the exasperation was back, only this time it was directed at him. All right, maybe he smiled at that. Just a little.

Carling didn’t bargain away a favor for Phaedra’s help, she said. Khalil bargained away a favor to Carling to give Phaedra a job.

Well, he hadn’t seen that one coming. He let his head sag back against the seat rest as he muttered, “Fuck.”

Hey, Olivia said. She leaned forward, looking earnest. Give her a chance. I know she’s not very likeable, and she certainly isn’t housebroken. But Grace and Khalil have invested a lot in her rehabilitation, and Carling would never have agreed to the bargain if she thought Phaedra wouldn’t hold up her end of things. Plus, she backed down when you confronted her. She’s here on the plane, isn’t she? That’s because she made a promise to her father, and keeping her word matters to her. She’s not a pariah. She’ll do her job.

He regarded her steadily, unconvinced. He was more than halfway inclined to boot Phaedra off the team and insist that Carling bargain for another Djinn to guard the passageway while they worked.

Then, suddenly curious, he asked, Why does this matter so much to you? You certainly don’t sound as if you like her much, yourself.

She ran her fingers through her hair, clearly at a loss as to what to say. As he waited without prompting her, his gaze traveled down the angle of her neck, along the graceful arch of her collarbones, and farther down to the hint of cleavage at the scooped neckline of her shirt.

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