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Raider tilting his head as he shaved, stripping that exquisite face bare for Seth’s eyes to enjoy. Raider looking heatedly at him over the rim of his cup at dinner when the prince’s nude, flame-juggling dancers emerged to entertain.
But those moments weren’t enough to ease Seth’s hunger for him.
And those moments only intensified Seth’s worry—because he couldn’t control what lay outside of them. He couldn’t control Raider. And it wasn’t that he actually wanted to, but Raider was so damn reckless. What if Prince Rahim had caught him sneaking around the palace yesterday?
It was good they had an escape route (though Seth hadn’t admitted that to Raider), but still. Raider needed to stay out of trouble with the prince so Seth could find Julian and finish this mission. So they could figure out what came next.
The problem, though, wasn’t Raider (other than Seth being distracted by him). The problem was that everywhere Malik had taken Seth was a goddamn waste of time.
Julian would not have sold the book he stole from the Arcanum, nor would he likely have purchased one here. Seth had already pointed that out to Lord Malik, but the arcanist had insisted on the stop.
A kahve shop, a walk through the bazaar, and now a bookshop? Seth almost felt like he was being paraded around. Yesterday had felt much the same. Seth was getting nowhere, and Malik either had no idea how to conduct a manhunt—or he was stalling Seth on purpose.
The arcanist picked through a stack of books that the bookseller had said were new acquisitions before the white-bearded man had vanished into the back. Maybe Malik’s finery and court position intimidated him. Maybe Seth’s arcane clothing and weapons did.
Malik’s elegant fingers beckoned Seth. Repressing a surge of impatience, Seth left the doorway, where he’d been dividing his attention between Malik and the bustling street.
At Seth’s scowl, an eyebrow as manicured as Malik’s goatee rose in elegant query. Turban-free today, the arcanist’s dark hair was clubbed neatly at his nape, and rubies dangled from his ears. A robe of gold-embroidered blue silk draped his slim, graceful form, and his slender fingers held a book with studied sophistication.
Though Seth hadn’t admitted it to Raider, he had begun to see Raider’s point of view. (No, that wasn’t even true. Seth had seen it from the start, even if he’d pretended not to.) He was being tested. Maybe not for the prince’s bed, but Malik’s flirtation was too obvious to deny, whatever its purpose.
Once, before Raider, Seth might have enjoyed the man’s company a little. Malik was well read, intelligent, and witty. He was cultured and smooth, and his flirtation was the sort that Seth, once, had preferred: smiles, light touches, innuendo. All of it designed to tempt but not taunt, easily yielding control to him. Once, Seth had chosen such men for his partners.
Looking back, Seth didn’t understand himself at all. Because now, being with Raider? It was so goddamn obvious why none of his past choices had been right. Only Raider was right. Only Raider could balance him.
At Seth’s scowl, Raider would have grinned and teased him. He would have said shit just to rile Seth, and it would have ended with Seth’s lips silencing his. But of course Raider wouldn’t be silent. He never was. He would moan and make those delicious, needful sounds—
Fucking focus, Seth commanded himself.
“Might any of these have come from the Arcanum?” Malik inquired.
“That would be nearly impossible for me to guess, unless you’ve found the one I described.”
“I’m afraid not,” Malik replied smoothly, unruffled by Seth’s sharpness. “But these are still worth a look.”
Malik angled the book he was perusing toward Seth, clearly intending for Seth to look over his shoulder. Instead, Seth picked up a book from the stack and flipped through it without interest. He tossed it down.
“I need to speak with the gate guards, with the healers, and with merchants selling gear and supplies. I need to go to the inns and taverns and stables. Julian would have equipped himself, prepared for his next stage. He wouldn’t have wasted time here—and neither should we.”
Malik closed his book delicately. “You’re assuming this … Julian … meant to continue his journey. What if Aqarat was his final destination?”
“Unlikely.”
“What would motivate him to go on? What do you think he wants?”
“I think he’ll go on to Kastari. It’s a big city, bigger than Aqarat, more like Masir. It’s a better place to disappear, besides being a place with more work for an arcanist of his caliber.” Seth winced as he realized how his assessment might offend Malik, but the arcanist only studied Seth thoughtfully.
“The book itself must matter to your fugitive,” Malik pointed out.
“I assume so, but not knowing the contents of it, I can’t guess at its significance. Catalus, head of the Department of Alchemy, glimpsed the book in Julian’s arms as Julian left the building. Catalus didn’t know Julian was fleeing a murder scene and therefore didn’t attempt to stop him.”
“And you know nothing of Julian’s politics? Nothing of his true purpose? The murder and theft didn’t happen without reason.”
“I’m sure there is more to all of this, but I can’t know what that is until I find Julian. When I find him, I’ll find the book. Then I can get some answers.”
“What if, when you find those answers, Masir is not the best place to take him?”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
