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Saiman shrugged. “The value of the information increases with its exclusivity. A client buying such knowledge has an expectation of such exclusivity. It would be unethical to undermine it.”
“It would be unethical for me to respond to your sexual overtures. For the duration of the job, you’re a collection of arms and legs which I have to keep safe. I’m most effective if I’m not emotionally involved with you on any level. To be blunt, I’m doing my best to regard you as a precious piece of porcelain I have to keep out of harm’s way.”
“But you do find this shape sexually attractive?”
“I’m not going to answer this question. If you pester me, I will chain you back to the bed.”
Saiman raised his arm, flexing a spectacular biceps. “This shape has a lot of muscle mass.”
I nodded. “In a bench-pressing contest you would probably win. But we’re not bench pressing. You might be stronger, but I’m well trained. If you do want to try me, you’re welcome to it. Just as long as we agree that once your battered body is chained safely in your bed, I get to say, ‘I told you so.’ ”
Saiman arched his eyebrows. “Try it?”
“And stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“Stop mimicking my gestures.”
He laughed. “You’re a most peculiar person, Kate. I find myself oddly fascinated. You have obvious skill.” He indicated the budding forest in his living room. “And knowledge to back it up. Why aren’t you among the Guild’s top performers?”
Because being in top anything means greater risk of discovery. I was hiding in plain sight and doing a fairly good job of it. But he didn’t need to know that. “I don’t spend much time in Atlanta. My territory is in the Lowcountry. Nothing much happens there, except for an occasional sea serpent eating shrimp out of the fishing nets.”
Saiman’s sharp eyes narrowed. “So why not move up to the city? Better jobs, better money, more recognition?”
“I like my house where it is.”
Something bumped behind the front door. I swiped Slayer off the counter. “Bedroom. Now.”
“Can I watch?”
I pointed with the sword to the bedroom.
Saiman gave an exaggerated sigh. “Very well.”
He went to the bedroom. I padded to the door and leaned against it, listening.
Quiet.
I waited, sword raised. Something waited out there in the hallway. I couldn’t hear it, but I sensed it. It was there.
A quiet whimper filtered through the steel of the door. A sad, lost, feminine whimper, like an old woman crying quietly in mourning.
I held very still. The apartment felt stifling and crowded in. I would’ve given anything for a gulp of fresh air right about now.
Something scratched at the door. A low mutter floated through, whispered words unintelligible.
God, what was it with the air in this place? The place was stale and musty, like a tomb.
A feeling of dread flooded me. Something bad was in the apartment. It hid in the shadows under the furniture, in the cabinets, in the fridge. Fear squirmed through me. I pressed my back against the door, holding Slayer in front of me.
The creature behind the door scratched again, claws against the steel.
The walls closed in. I had to get away from this air. Somewhere out in the open. Someplace where the wind blew under an open sky. Somewhere with nothing to crowd me in.
I had to get out.
If I left, I risked Saiman’s life. Outside, the volkhvi were waiting. I’d be walking right into their arms.
