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A statement that oddly sounded as if he didn’t believe me—or, perhaps, didn’t believe my other statements. I drank some champagne, my wariness increasing. “I do hope you haven’t permanently fractured your relationship with her. As angry as I am, it was never my intention to cause harm to your professional standing.”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my father, it’s that all rifts can be healed. Are you ready to order?” he added.
When I nodded, the waiter silently appeared. Once we’d both placed our order—beef Wellington along with a full-bodied red wine—Charles leaned forward and said, “Let’s discuss something else. What have you done since I saw you?”
I told him, and the conversation rolled on from there. But that uneasy flicker remained alight inside me, a flame no doubt fed by the odd tension that seemed to be emanating from him. Normally I would have written it off as tension born of sexual frustration, but this felt darker—angrier—than that.
After we’d consumed our main meal and sweets, he reached across the table and caught my hand in his. “Is it too much to ask that you come back to my place for a nightcap?”
I wrapped my fingers around his and unleashed my seeking skills. All I was after was information on Dream, in either her Karlinda disguise or her Hedda Lang one, but Charles’s thoughts were annoyingly vague, and the fragments I caught appeared to be centered only on one thing—sex. Which was not unexpected; Charles might seriously like me, but he liked our sexual encounters even more.
And yet those fragments didn’t explain the dark edge still evident in both the energy rolling off him and in some of his movements. He was restless, angry, and neither of those could be placed at the feet of sexual frustration.
“Just a nightcap,” he added. “With no expectations of anything more.”
I hesitated, uncertain which way to go. While instinct was warning it would be dangerous to go back, it wasn’t saying why, and I still very much believed that Charles himself wasn’t a threat. And maybe if we were in his home rather than in a very public place, he’d relax enough that I could get the information I needed about Dream without resorting to anything more than touch.
“A nightcap, yes,” I said softly. “But I’m not staying the night, Charles.”
He sighed and pulled his hand from mine. “I guess that is to be expected.”
We lingered for coffee and then went back to his apartment. He lived in a family-owned building situated two blocks down from Zendigah’s, right behind the area on First Street that held most governmental buildings. Regulations restricted construction height to a maximum of twenty levels on both First and Second Streets, and his building was one of the tallest. He scanned us in and then escorted me to the elevator. It, like the building itself, was glass fronted and, as we got higher, offered amazing views over the parkland. Once we’d reached the twentieth floor, Charles again placed a hand against my spine and guided me to the right. The tension in him, if anything, had increased, and trepidation stirred. But it was too late now to back out of the situation—not without stirring the kind of suspicion I was trying to avoid. While I might not have seen my follower, I had no doubt he was still out there.
The sensor beeped as we approached and the door opened. The room beyond was one vast white space, with walls of glass on two sides that provided spectacular views over both Government House and the park. The furniture was either white leather or glass, and there wasn’t much else in the way of color aside from the gleaming metal of the autocook and kitchen appliances.
I paused to shake the drizzle from my shawl and then hang it up, but Charles moved across to the drinks cabinet. He met me near the plush L-shaped sofa and offered me one of the two balloon glasses he was holding.
“Here’s to overcoming the challenges that come with any relationship,” he said, “and to successfully moving on.”
A smile touched my lips as I clinked my glass lightly against his. “Here’s to hoping that you do not consider a gun in the face a normal progression in your relationships.”
He laughed softly. “That is not what I meant, and you know it.”
“Indeed.” I took a sip of the cognac then licked my lips in appreciation. He watched the movement almost avidly, and again, uncertainty stirred. At any other time, I would have simply marked it down as sexual interest, but the gleam in his eyes owed as much to curiosity as attraction, and that was decidedly odd. It wasn’t like he’d never seen me drink cognac before— My stomach suddenly dropped.
What if he’d put something in it?
What if Dream, in her Karlinda disguise, had convinced or even forced Charles to drug me so that she could interrogate me further? As a lure, I’d been made somewhat immune to every known drug at the time of my creation, but newer drugs could affect me, as I’d discovered when I’d gone undercover in Winter Halo.
I trusted Charles, I really did, but I couldn’t ignore the possibility that his sense of duty had forced him to take a step he otherwise wouldn’t.
“Shall we sit?” he asked, waving one hand toward the plush sofa.
I nodded and did so, but when he moved toward one of the chairs, I laughed and patted the cushion next to me. “I’m not that mad, Charles.”
He smiled and sat beside me, his thigh pressing lightly against mine. Unfortunately, the fact that we were both fully clothed prevented my seeking skill from getting anything more than vague flashes, and they really didn’t tell me anything other than the fact he was frustrated. Whether that meant sexually or otherwise, I couldn’t say.
I put the cognac on the table then lightly placed a hand on top of his. But the flashes remained vague, and that was decidedly strange. Charles had always been something of an open book, so why couldn’t I read him now?
Had Dream given him a charm to counter my seeking skills?
It was possible, but if she had, then it was something that was more concealable than the ones around my wrists, given the short sleeves and open neckline of his shirt. Nor could I sense the flicker of foulness that seemed so much a part of her power. But maybe the magic within a charm was simply too small to register. Or perhaps the fact I was wearing Nuri’s charms was not only protecting me, but also preventing me from sensing other magic.
“I’m sorry you had to cut short your dinner with Karlinda,” I said. “I imagine such an invitation is a rare one to receive, even though you and Julius are friends.”
“Invitations have been few and far between since her illness,” he agreed, “but there will be other times.”
“What do the medics say about her illness? Why haven’t they traced its source if she’s been ill for so long?”
