At four minutes to eight a knock echoed through my apartment, sending the attack poodle into hysterics. I put him in the bathroom, where he could cause minimal damage, and opened the door.
Saiman wore a suit and an updated version of Thomas Durand. The original Durand, the one who owned one seventh of the Midnight Games, was in his fifties. This version was in his thirties, wide in the shoulder, masculine, and perfectly groomed. Just as before, the aura of wealth emanated from him, from his expensive shoes to his patrician profile and artfully cut dark blond hair. He looked like the favorite son of his former self.
He opened his mouth and simply stopped, as if someone had thrown a switch.
Earth to Saiman. “Hi.”
He blinked. “Good evening. May I come in?”
No. “Sure.” I stepped aside and he walked into my apartment. He took a long moment to survey my residence. His gaze lingered on my bed.
“You sleep in your living room?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Because I had inherited the apartment from Greg, my guardian. He’d turned the only bedroom of the apartment into a makeshift library/storage room and slept there, surrounded by his books and artifacts. Greg was murdered less than a year ago. Sleeping in his bed was out of the question, so I bought a daybed and put it in the living room. I slept there, with the door to the real bedroom firmly closed. And when Julie came along, I gave it to her.
Explaining all of this was tedious and unnecessary. I shrugged. “It’s a habit.”
Saiman looked like he wanted to ask something else but changed his mind.
I slipped on my shoes, wrapped a crocheted shawl around myself, and picked up Slayer. “I’m ready.”
Saiman didn’t look like he wanted to leave. I opened the door and stepped out onto the landing.
He followed me. I locked the door. He offered me his arm and I rested my fingers on his sleeve. It was covered by our agreement after all. We descended the grimy stairs. Outside, the cold bit at me. Small white flurries drifted from the night sky. Saiman raised his face to the sky and smiled. “Winter,” he said softly. When he turned to me, his eyes luminesced, like two chunks of ice lit by a fire from within.
He opened the car door for me with a deep nod that resembled a bow. I got in and put the saber across my lap. He shut the door and slid into the driver’s seat, producing a carved wooden box. “I brought these for you,” he said. “But you don’t need them. You look divine.”
I opened the box. A yellow topaz bracelet, earrings, and a necklace lay on the green velvet. The necklace was by far the most stunning—an elegant thin chain crowned with a fiery drop of a stone. “Looks like the Wolf Diamond,” I said.
“Indeed. It’s a yellow topaz. I felt it was fitting, but your naked neck is shocking. You’re welcome to them, of course.”
I closed the box. “I better not.”
Saiman pulled away into the night. The city slid by. Ruined buildings stared at me with the black holes of their windows.
“Do you like winter, Kate?”
“In theory.”
“Oh?”
“The kid in me likes the snow.”
“And the adult?”
“The adult says: high heating bills, people freezing to death, burst water pipes, and clogged roads. What’s not to love?”
“I find you so immensely entertaining.” Saiman glanced at me.
“Why do you persist with this nonsense? I made it clear that I don’t like you romantically and never will.”
He shrugged. “I don’t like to lose. Besides, I’m not interested in a fling. What I offer is infinitely more stable: a partnership. Infatuation is fleeting, but a relationship based on mutual benefit would survive years. I offer stability, loyalty, my resources, and myself. I’ll never bore you, Kate. I’ll never betray you.”
“Unless it suits your interests.”
He shrugged. “Of course. But the gains would have to outweigh the risks. Having you on my side would have a lot of value to me. If I did find something more valuable, I would have to make sure you never found out about the cancellation of our arrangement. You’re a very violent woman, after all.”
“In other words, you’d kill me, so I couldn’t punish you for your betrayal.”
“ ‘Kill’ is such an ugly word. I’d simply make sure that I was out of your reach.”
I shook my head. He was hopeless. “What woman wouldn’t jump on that offer?”
“I would never lie to you, Kate. It’s one of the perks I offer you.”
“I’m overcome with gratitude. Have you ever loved anyone, Saiman?”
“No.”
This was a pointless conversation. “I know a man who is in love with my friend. He loves her absolutely. The only thing he wants in return is for her to love him.”
Saiman arched his eyebrows, imitating me. “And?”
“You’re the exact opposite of him. You lack the capacity to love, so you want to smother mine as well.”
He laughed. His laughter rang inside the vehicle, an eerie soundtrack to the crumbling city.
CHAPTER 16
FORTY MINUTES LATER SAIMAN PULLED INTO A parking lot before a large mansion. We’d climbed north, far into the affluent part of Atlanta, but this house made “affluent” sound like an insult. Too large for its lot, the building sprawled, rising two oversized stories into the night and edging its southern neighbors out of the way. When Atlanta’s rich built new houses, they typically imitated antebellum Southern style, but this monster was decidedly English: redbrick, huge windows, dark ivy frosted with new snow, and a balcony. All it needed was a fresh-faced English miss in a lacy dress.
“What’s this?” I eyed the windows that spilled yellow electric light onto the snow.
“Bernard’s.” Saiman sank a world of meaning into the word, which whistled happily over my head.
I glanced at him.
“It’s a party house.”
“I hope for your sake it’s a very tame party.” If he had taken me to some sort of sex orgy, he would fly right through one of those pretty windows, headfirst.
“Not that kind,” he assured me. “It’s a place where Atlanta’s rich and influential gather to be seen and to be social. Technically it’s a restaurant, but the patrons are the real draw, not the food. The atmosphere is informal and most people mingle, drink in hand.”
Oh boy. Rich and influential. Precisely the crowd I wanted to avoid. “And you brought me here?”
“I warned you that you would be on display. Please don’t grind your teeth, Kate. It makes your jaw look more square.”
Saiman parked at the end of the lot.
“No valet?”
“People who patronize Bernard’s rarely relinquish control of their cars.”
I slid Slayer between the seats and opened my car door. Getting out without catching the heel of my shoe on my hem took a moment, and by the time I had accomplished this feat of dexterity, Saiman was there with his arm and his smile.
Why did I agree to this again? Aaah yes. Because I had no choice.
I let Saiman walk me up the steps. Above us a couple on the balcony laughed at something. The woman’s laughter had a slightly hysterical pitch.
We negotiated a vestibule and a luxurious staircase, and Saiman escorted me to the second floor, where a number of small tables dotted a wide room. A smiling hostess in a tiny black dress led us to a table. I sat so I could see the door and surveyed the crowd. Expensive women and expensive men traded pleasantries. A few glanced at us. No hired help. Odd.
“Where are the bodyguards?” I murmured.
“Bernard’s is a sanctuary,” Saiman said. “Violence is strictly prohibited. Should someone break the rule, the entirety of Atlanta’s elite would rise to bring him down.”
In my experience, when the violence broke out, the entirety of Atlanta’s elite scattered and ran for its life.
Saiman ordered cognac, I ordered water. The drinks arrived almost immediately. Saiman picked up his heavy crystal glass, warming the amber liquid it held with his palm. Déjà vu. We’d done this song and dance at the Midnight Games.