“I did this for you, my Bright Blade,” Bonarata said. “A gift of memory. When you betray me, remember it will never be you who suffers.” He turned to leave.
“You didn’t do this for vengeance,” I told him. “Not just for vengeance.”
He froze and turned to me, an incredulous look on his face, as if one of his horses had decided to speak. It was my habit to let him think the less of me, to treat me as her servant—which I was. And if he forgot I was dangerous, that was a good thing. But I wasn’t going to let her live believing what had been done to Wulfe was her fault.
“You were afraid of him,” I said, meeting his eyes.
We stared at each other in that filthy dungeon. But it was Bonarata who turned and walked away.
* * *
—
This time when I woke up, the sky was starting to lighten, and Adam was showering. I got out of bed, went to the closet, and opened the safe where I’d put the belt—the girdle—Wulfe had left on the bed.
I hadn’t really needed to check, because I’d known even while I was dreaming Stefan’s memories that the belt Wulfe had worn when Stefan met him for the first time, the belt Bonarata had tossed on top of Stefan’s bags, and the belt hanging in my safe were all the same one.
“Morning,” Adam called. “I’ll make breakfast.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
I showered, thinking about Wulfe, about gifts that were not gifts at all. About vengeance and sacrifices.
I dressed in my usual work clothes—jeans and a T-shirt. Braided my hair and stared at the thin white scar on my cheek that I’d gotten the last time I’d gone up against a god. I came down the stairs in time to spot Tad and Jesse headed out the door.
“This is early for you,” I said. On Thursdays their classes didn’t usually start until eleven.
“Study group meeting at seven thirty,” Jesse said, rolling her eyes.
I couldn’t tell if she was rolling her eyes at the hour, the study group, or Tad opening the door for her. It could have been any or all of them.
“Good luck,” I said.
Jesse stopped and looked at me. “Don’t die,” she told me. “Don’t let him die.” She poked a finger toward the kitchen.
“Don’t die,” I returned. “Don’t let him die.” I poked a finger toward Tad, who laughed.
Jesse contemplated him, sighed, and said, “Sometimes sacrifices need to be made.” Then she stomped out the door.
“Is the sacrifice that you keep me from dying?” I could hear Tad ask her on the other side of the door in a cheerful voice. “Or am I the sacrifice to be made for others’ safety?”
“Get in the car, Tad,” she said. “I hope you and Izzy make up soon. I don’t know if I can stand being around just you for long.”
The car doors shut and Jesse’s car drove off.
Sometimes sacrifices need to be made.
* * *
—
“Hey, you,” I said to Adam as I entered the kitchen.
“Morning, Sunshine,” he answered, handing me a cup of cocoa. “Ready to storm the seethe today?”
I blew on the steaming liquid. “About that—” I faltered to a stop.
Adam waited for me to finish. He would listen to me. He wouldn’t tell me that my evidence was ridiculous, even though it was. I tried to think of a way to talk about it that didn’t begin with “I had this dream . . .”
When I didn’t complete my sentence, Adam let it be. I knew that it was only a temporary stay, though. If I didn’t address it, he’d press me on what I’d been going to say.
Turning his attention to the giant omelette he was cooking, he said, “Sherwood did a drive-by on Wulfe’s house last night. It’s empty with a Realtor’s sign in the front. He called the real estate agent this morning, who told Sherwood that it’s undergoing renovations and just went on the market on Tuesday. He’s going to meet the Realtor there at nine and check it out. Sherwood has a good nose. He’ll be able to tell if Wulfe has been there between last Saturday and today.”
“Sherwood called the Realtor this morning?” I checked the clock; it was barely seven.
Adam saw my look and nodded. “He told me that the early bird gets the worm.”
“He’s right,” I conceded. “But it was still rude. If I were the Realtor, I’d have told Sherwood to meet me at two in the morning.”
Adam smiled, but asked, “What were you going to say about the seethe?”