Shadow's End (Elder Races #9)

“Ferion,” said Graydon, “do you know what Malphas can sense? How closely does he watch you?”


The younger male rubbed the back of his neck, frustration evident in his tight body language. “I think he can’t sense my activities unless I can sense him. I’ve become attuned to his presence, maybe because of the bond between us. But he doesn’t have to spy on me. He knows I have to follow his orders—or at least the letter of his orders. While he’s slipped up once or twice, usually he’s very detailed at giving orders that don’t allow much wiggle room, no doubt because of his Djinn nature and bargaining experience.”

Graydon raised his eyebrows. “If you’re more attuned to his presence, perhaps Bel and I are too.”

Ferion shrugged. “You might be. He said once that he would feel it if you broke the bargain. Something to do with the connection he established with you. Other than that, he can’t spy on us all the time.” He paused, and his expression turned uncertain, searching. Hesitantly, he continued, “If I were to guess, I think he’s spread very thin.”

Satisfaction flashed through her. He was trying to figure out the boundaries of his confinement and help them any way he could.

Graydon said in her head, That would make sense, if Malphas’s network of slaves has grown. But even so, Ferion would remain one of his highest priorities.

She said quickly, “I think we’ve talked enough about this.” She added privately to Graydon, If Malphas thinks to ask him what we’ve discussed, Ferion will have to tell him.

Agreed.

Clearly, Ferion thought of that as well, because he said, “I believe we have, too.”

She turned back to him. “What are you going to tell Malphas about this, if he asks?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Graydon nod in approval.

“I will say that Graydon stopped by for a brief visit.” Ferion smiled. “And that my mother is doing exactly what she does on every trip to New York, and the reports from my guard confirms it. Normal activities. Seeing friends, attending parties.” He said to Graydon, “You should leave now.”

Graydon said comfortably, “Sure, no problem.” He didn’t move.

Bel said in a firm voice, “Good night, Ferion.”

The Elven male hesitated. Then he said, “Good night.”

As he stepped out of the bedroom, she took a deep breath and let the tension leave her spine. What a strange, heartbreaking yet hopeful conversation.

Taking her by the elbow, Graydon gently nudged her out onto the snowy balcony again. As she complied, he pulled the doors closed behind them.

Silently, he told her, It’s late at night, in December. I doubt there are any surveillance cameras out here. Even if there are, they can’t hear what we say telepathically. He pulled her into his arms, and she went willingly, burying her face in his warm, strong neck. As he cupped the back of her head, he asked, How do you think it went?

As well as can be expected, and better than I had feared. She sighed, losing herself in his clean, male scent and the warm strength of his large body. We were all as careful as we could be. I think Ferion will try his hardest to do what he said he would—but we still can’t trust him.

Much as she wanted to. Much as, she now believed, he truly deserved.

I agree. Graydon rubbed his face in her hair.

She could feel every finger as he spread his hand against her and rubbed her back. The sensation was soothing and arousing at once. Warmth spread through her, and an ache grew in the private place between her thighs. She bit her lips, wanting so badly to act on her feelings and yet not daring.

He added, When it comes to Ferion, we need to think in probabilities, not assurances. And we need to think of how to get you out of here without triggering any response from him, or Malphas.

Both you and Ferion opened that door, she told him. Now I’m going to walk through it. You’re going to leave, and I’ll call Linwe in here and tell her we’re going for a walk. I like to walk in Central Park. For me, it’s a perfectly normal activity.

Good gods, Bel. Tell me you don’t go walking in Central Park at night. He sounded concerned and amused at once.

She pulled back to tilt an eyebrow at him. Do you really think anyone would see me, if I chose for them not to?

A smile creased his face. You have a point. He sobered. As soon as you’re out, I’ll come get you. We can still have that meeting tonight after all.

Her pulse quickened at the thought. Yes. I’ll be a half an hour—no later than an hour at the most, I promise.

His gaze darkening, he laid a big hand along the side of her cheek. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and neither did she. Promise though she might to meet him, it was still not a certainty.

She would probably meet him in no later than an hour.

Ferion would probably keep his word. At least, now she knew he wanted to.

Graydon muttered, You could still come with me now.