This is so much worse than any of those other times.
“I didn’t go with her,” Nazarin says, calmly. I look up, confused.
“I was tempted, but I went home alone. In the end, I knew that sleeping with her was a bad idea. My orders were clear: not to become involved with anyone in the Ratel. Yet she stuck in my mind.”
“Did she try to get you to do anything?” I ask carefully. I don’t want to tip him off that I have her notes. I’m not sure whether or not to believe him. Tila always gets what she wants, when she puts her mind to it. I can’t remember a time anyone rebuffed her advances. If people were to choose between us, they’d be almost certain to choose Tila.
“Yeah. Later, she asked me to introduce her to Malka.”
“The Queen.”
He inclines his head. “At that point, I hadn’t met her, or even seen her, so I couldn’t give her what she wanted. She didn’t bother with me again after that.”
That sounds like Tila. Slyly, I bring up my notes again. She never definitively said she slept with him. After that one entry, her focus shifted to other topics. She mentioned her frustration, and that she was having difficulties seeing Malka, but “Skel” wasn’t mentioned again. He could be telling the truth. I hope he is.
“When I saw the murder charge, saw her picture, and discovered she had a twin, I realized I could figure out what she was up to. At first it was curiosity. When I learned she was working in the Verve lounge as a lucid dreamer, I figured she’s in deep—deep enough that nobody could follow her.”
“Except me.”
“Yes. Except you.”
He’s run out of words. I sip the wine. No, I gulp it. “Why didn’t you tell me about this? Especially before you slept with me?” I ask once the glass is empty. I’m trying not to think of them together.
“Nothing happened. She’s not the only one in the Ratel who’s tried to sleep with me.” He shrugs. “I don’t know your sister. I can’t pretend I do. For what it’s worth, I don’t think she’d have killed without a reason.”
“She didn’t kill anyone.”
“As I’ve said, are you still so sure of that? Or are you saying it out of habit now?”
I glance down at the empty glass. “You still should have told me.”
“You’re right.”
I meet his eyes. “No fight? No protests?”
“No. You are entirely right. I shouldn’t hold anything back, even if it doesn’t seem important to me at the time. It might prove to be. I’m sorry.” His body language is open. He seems sincere. I feel like I can’t trust my own judgment in anything, anymore. Tila’s fucked with my head.
“That’s twice you’ve not told me things I needed to know,” I say.
Nazarin stares at me, somber. “I wanted to sleep with you. Not your sister.”
My breath catches. He had cut to the heart of what was bothering me. I look away. I see the framed holophoto of me and Tila, arms around each other and smiling. We look so young, so happy. I feel like I’ve aged about twenty years in less than a week. I thought I knew her better than anyone. “Still probably not the best idea to sleep with your undercover partner,” I say. “Did you, uh, mention that to your superior?”
His face goes still. “No, I didn’t. If I did, they might throw me off the case, despite all the inroads I’ve made. Conflict of interest. They’d put someone else on, and starting all over again means they probably wouldn’t be able to help your sister.”
The careful way he chooses his words makes me tired. “Relax. I’m not going to tell the SFPD.” A horrible thought occurs to me. “Does the other safe house have cameras?”
“God, no. Don’t worry.”
I let out a breath.
“It might not have been the best idea, what we did,” he says gently. “I don’t regret a moment of it, though.” He hesitates, glancing up at me. “Do you?”
I can’t help it—the smallest smile hooks to my cheeks before it disappears. “No. I don’t. But I don’t think it should happen again. Not while we’re doing this.”
He nods. “That’s fair.”
I stand up, hold out my hand. “So. You’ll tell me everything. I may not be an actual member of the Ratel, but I’m not stupid. I’m your best chance of figuring out what’s really going on in the Ratel. Stop trying to protect me or cover your own ass, or you’ll get us both killed.”
He stands and takes my hand in a warm grasp. “I promise,” he says.
I look at him for a long time. He doesn’t look away. He wants to kiss me. I want to kiss him, but only our hands touch.
I’m still confused and a little jealous, but I push it away until I’m calm and steady.
It’s a new start. We’re partners.
*
I’m getting sick of the safe house. It’s not home.