BLUFF
The pigeon bearing Eugenie’s letter arrived at dawn, just as they were readying to leave. The man with the red hair had been spotted again, the secrets-trader had written, this time at the village of Zelenka, over twenty miles east of Brushfen.
This suited their plans just fine, Xiaodan said. Zelenka lay en route to Chànggē Shuĭ, so they would not deviate much from their planned path.
Remy was thankful that the carriage was speeding too quickly to encourage much talk. Xiaodan was staring down at her hands, fingers nervously twisting at one of her long sleeves. She hadn’t stopped blushing since they’d left Brushfen; for a vampire, it was an impressive feat. In contrast, Malekh was relaxed—too relaxed. There was no one leading the helhests outside, but Peanut and Cookie seemed to know where they were going, which was more than could be said of Remy. He concentrated on the rushing scenery outside his window, choosing the faint bouts of nausea over having to look at his companions.
Because he couldn’t. It was too easy to remember the way Xiaodan’s mouth traveled down Malekh’s neck, the way the man’s head had reclined back to give her better access. The peaceful expression on his face that Remy had never seen him wear before.
Remy didn’t want to remember the way they looked last night, at the unexpectedly sensual way they were caught by what bits of moonlight had trespassed through the fog, and the way it made his own chest tighten, like he was mourning a loss he’d never known till now.
Halfway into their journey to Zelenka, Xiaodan finally spoke. Still pink-cheeked, still fussing with her dress, still not looking up from her lap, she said, “I really would like to apologize. For… what you saw. I should’ve had Zidan’s blood in Elouve, before we started, but we were so busy with our preparations and his investigations that it had slipped my mind.”
She’d spent her last night at the capital guarding Kinaiya Lodge, fearful of any reprisals from Vasilik. It made Remy feel even guiltier.
“Even so,” Xiaodan continued, “there was no good reason to be so… forthright, out in the open, knowing we all have little expectation of privacy. You left so quickly last night, and I couldn’t quite think of a way to apologize this morning.”
She thought he’d left because he was embarrassed. Remy let it pass without explaining himself because that would mean confessing that he’d left because he’d been so fucking aroused. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. You’re both engaged. I should be more mindful.”
“I hope this doesn’t change anything?” Xiaodan asked anxiously.
“Of course not. Don’t think anything else of it. I won’t.” He was lying through his goddamn teeth. It had changed everything between them. He had left quickly because he couldn’t stay. Not after she’d told Malekh that she had wanted him, too.
He’d mustered enough strength to retreat back into the woods before he could do the unthinkable and take her up on her offer, but hadn’t enough willpower for much else, because once he was out of sight and some ways away, he had grimly loosened his breeches a second time and attended to himself, more determined to get it out of his system rather than from any eagerness to finish. He had found no particular satisfaction from this solo act.
Oversexed, he thought. I’ve been bloody oversexed for so long that anyone I find even remotely attractive gets me off quick. Fuck Giselle. No. That’s what started this whole damn mess in the first place.
He’d already taken his dose of bloodwakers, and everything was looking exceptionally vivid today, Xiaodan’s lips especially soft and inviting in the morning light. And her scent. Vampires shouldn’t have had any, so it was no business of hers to smell so light and sweet from her side of the carriage. It was fucking him up, just a little. Maybe something stronger to drink in Zelenka or whatever village they wound up at next; he didn’t care which one, as long as there were people about with ale strong enough to dull his senses.
He couldn’t look at Malekh, either. The man had seen him. Even worse, Malekh had liked that he’d seen them. Probably smiled at him to fuck with his head.
The Summer Lord was currently leaning back against his seat. His eyes were closed, but that tilted smile was there once again, mocking and certain. Without meaning to, Remy’s eyes drifted lower toward the man’s neck, smooth and unmarked by Xiaodan’s teeth. His scent was familiar, the same from when they’d first fought.
Uninvited came the thought of what the vampire might taste like. What if it had been his mouth against the man’s skin? Remy wondered if the lord was always as gentle a lover as he was with Xiaodan, or if he was ever rougher—
Remy jerked his attention back toward the window, scowling.
Stop thinking. Stop fucking thinking.
Zelenka clearly knew what had happened to Brushfen. Remy could see the large wooden stakes they’d erected on the ground surrounding the village, a warning to visitors against drawing nearer.
“It would be best to shelter the helhests here and travel the rest of the way on foot,” Malekh said. “Let’s not give them more reasons to be wary.”
“The problem will be passing ourselves off successfully as human,” Xiaodan said worriedly. “What do you think, Remy?”
Only then did Remy finally look; at Xiaodan, whose deceptively plain qipao could not hide its expensive satin and elaborate stitchwork, and then at Malekh, who could wear burlap sacks and still be incapable of hiding his noble, arrogant bearing. He sighed.
They secured both the helhests and the carriage inside the woods, keeping them out of sight, and walked the rest of the way. Remy could see a great number of men and women were gathered by Brushfen’s gates—far too many guards for a village their size.
“Halt!” one of the men shouted, spotting them approaching. “State your business! Otherwise, be off with you!”
“We are travelers hoping to stay the night,” Xiaodan called back in her meekest voice. “Has something happened?”
“There’s been vampires attacking all up the northwest, with a whole village razed to the ground. Everyone from here to Southport are arming themselves. We’re taking those same precautions.” The man eyed her suspiciously. “You don’t look like you’re from around here, miss.”
“I come from Sanchiri, farther east. My companions and I are traveling there.”
“Sanchiri?” one of the women asked suspiciously. “That’s in Qing-ye territory. They say whole towns up there welcome vampires as their overlords.”
“My fiancée’s mother lives in Sanchiri,” Malekh said pleasantly. “The court vampires in Qing-ye have dwindled enough that they are no longer a threat. It seems to me that it is far more dangerous to be traveling in Aluria now than to the east.”
“True. But our village is closed to strangers as of the moment.”
“They look suspicious,” the woman insisted. “Where are their horses? Their wagons? They look far too coiffed to have gone all this way by walking, what with that gentleman over there with his fancy clothes. Who’s to say they’re not spies for those vampires that burned down Brushfen? Didn’t the mayor warn of suspicious strangers about, asking questions?”
The looks directed their way became much more hostile.
“I think it would be best to leave,” Malekh said quietly.
“If what you say is true, then we should find other accommodations,” Xiaodan said politely.
“Wait!” The shout came from behind the row of watchmen. An older man marched out, squinting at Remy. “I recognize you!” he roared. “You’re that cambion pretending to be a Reaper! The duke’s bastard, with the vampire blood! The Pendergast get!”
“Are you fucking jesting with me,” Remy said, disbelieving. “You’re singling me out as the vampire among us thr—”
There was a cacophony of clicks as a dozen pair of crossbows were trained Remy’s way, arrows already nocked.
“We aren’t interested in what you say is truth, and what you say is lies, sir,” the first man said. “We’d cut you down where you stand if we didn’t think there’d be reprisals coming from Her Majesty’s Reapers, so we’re giving out warnings first. You have five minutes to skitter out of sight before my men’s arrows find your throat, and if you’re wanting to keep your neck intact, you’d best stay far away from here.”
“THE NERVE of them,” Xiaodan fumed after they had regrouped half a mile later. “You’ve hunted vampires to keep them safe, and they dare call you the threat?”
“It’s happened before,” Remy said with all the resignation of one who’d been through it enough times to believe otherwise. “They’re right to be afraid. That they’re being overly cautious is good.”
“I still have half a mind to march back there and give them what-for—”
“That would be counterproductive,” Malekh reminded her calmly. “Pendergast is right. Their fears will help protect them.”
“But what are we to do if we are not welcome in Zelenka?” Xiaodan demanded. “How certain was Eugenie about her sources? What if some other village comes under threat?”
“She is not one to act upon information until she is certain of its authenticity. If she believes Zelenka is next, then we shall wait for tonight. It would do you well to recuperate in the meantime. You’ve been using the sun’s gift too often in Elouve for my liking, and you got very little rest last night.”
Remy was fairly certain that Malekh hadn’t intended to insinuate anything by that last remark, but Xiaodan turned red all the same. “I could use some shut-eye,” she allowed reluctantly. Then she frowned. “Do not kill each other while I’m asleep.”
“I’m sure Pendergast and I can put this free time to good use,” Malekh said, still deadpan. “There is a wager that needs settling.”
“ ‘Wager’?” Remy asked. “What the hell are you—ah, fuck.” He’d told the vampire that he was going to survive the attack at the Archives, even turned it into a bet with the noble owing him a favor if he did. He hadn’t expected Malekh to remember, much less honor his defiance.
“Well,” Xiaodan huffed, “I expect you both on better terms when I wake.”
Malekh kept his gaze on the coach after she retired, looking back at Remy only after he’d made certain she was truly asleep, her heartbeats evening out. “I told her you wouldn’t be up to our standards when it came down to a fight. She said if I was wrong, I ought to give you the training you should have had, as compensation. That is, of course, if you can last a round with me.”
The Summer Lord was goading him; that much was obvious. But Remy would take him up on the offer anyway, eager for a rematch. “On the contrary,” he said. “It would be my pleasure to beat the fucking hell out of you.”
The nobleman didn’t even bother drawing out his sword, his stance more relaxed than expectant. “Come at me whenever you’re ready, then. Let’s not be all day about it.”
No preparations, no warm-ups, not even rules. That was fine by Remy, who wasted no time taking hold of Breaker and promptly charging the lord.
There was a razor-honed, controlled grimness to Malekh’s fighting—a strange contrast to Remy’s, since he was often more furious than finessed. The noble’s movements were as precise as a mathematical calculation. He flowed from one position to the next, knew exactly where he should be to counter every thrust and parry, and followed up with well-placed sweeps and blows that would have sent a lesser man to his knees in seconds.
And nine hundred years of fighting meant he would have learned to perfect those techniques, mastered the million and a half combinations for attacking and counterattacking. That scientific mind of his could no doubt see the blows just before they happened and could economize the best course of action to counter them. It had been the most noticeable thing Remy had seen whenever he saw the man fight—how Malekh would exert only exactly enough strength and speed to win, never showing off with unnecessary posturing.
On the other hand, Remy never pretended to be the smartest in the room; he wasn’t one to crunch numbers and probabilities. He didn’t have the skills to calculate the force he would need to take another man’s head off. His greatest strength had always been his instinct. His other strength, possibly the only strength in a fight against Malekh, was that his moves were unpredictable enough to give anyone pause.
He focused on the immediate space around him, letting Breaker absorb the punches rather than leaping to the offensive because, Light’s fuck, this vampire was as fast as ever. And still it felt like Malekh was holding himself back. Remy had fared poorly during their first fight, but he was matching the noble nearly blow for blow in this one.
“Stop that!” he snarled.
“Stop what?” Malekh’s fist landed with a thud against Breaker’s base, seeking an opening that Remy was unwilling to give.
“Stop bloody going easy on me!” Remy knew he’d guessed right when the man’s eyes flickered, pausing for half a moment before Malekh aimed for his kneecaps. He caught the attempt with the flat side of his scythe, but the lord avoided his retaliatory slash. “You were faster than this back when I was whaling on your brother.”
Malekh blurred and reappeared several feet away, out of reach. The tension in his jaw could snap off Remy’s knifechain. “You’re attempting to goad me into losing my temper. You would go out of your way to injure yourself simply out of pride?”
“You wanted me to prove myself back in Elouve. Now you’re concerned for my safety. Fucking pick one, and make sure you pick the right one to bitch about.” Remy ran to close the distance, chain whirring in his hands, and for the first time, the vampire was on the defensive. If it could be called that. Malekh merely weaved in between Remy’s blows, avoiding them with ease, but did not take advantage to mount an offensive.
“Xiaodan doesn’t want you incapacitated.”
His admission only enraged Remy. “I don’t need her concern, either. Why the fuck did you even agree to have me here if you both intend to treat me like I’m some goddamn child, like you do with Naji—”
And then Malekh was looming up in his vision, having somehow gotten past Breaker without Remy being aware of it. Suddenly it was Malekh in between him and his double scythes, face against his.
“The problem, Pendergast, is that neither Xiaodan nor I look at you as a child,” Malekh whispered; guttural, coldly furious, and, Remy realized, stunned, thick with desire. “I saw you. I could smell your lust from where we sat. She thought you might join us. She is feeling your rejection most keenly.”
“ ‘Rejection’?” Remy echoed in surprise. His overinflated, unwanted reputation with unavailable women had much to answer for, because he was just learning he was far less experienced than he’d thought. He’d assumed he was being respectful of their needs, relieving his urges out in the woods away from them like a proper noble. “I didn’t—it was a private moment—I left not because I was—was that why she was apologizing?”
“Xiaodan understands what passed between you and the duchess, how unsatisfying you found the relationship. Last night she was only thinking of the pleasure, her own desires. She feels guilty for propositioning you the way Lady Astonbury did. She does not want you to think of her in the same manner you think of the duchess.”
Xiaodan was most emphatically not like the duchess. Giselle had never once attempted to seduce him by sucking on another man’s neck. “I don’t think of her at all like I do the duchess.”
“We’ve argued over you many times.” Malekh’s hands were warm. They were wrapped around Remy’s neck, light enough not to injure, but it hurt all the same. He didn’t know how to defend himself against this. “She believes that any overtures toward you would make her no different from the other woman. I disagree.”
One of Malekh’s hands drifted higher so he could grasp the side of Remy’s jaw tightly, forcing his head up to meet his own dark, heavy-lidded gaze. “I said you would be open to both our advances if we’d expressed our interest much more clearly.”
He leaned in closer. “And Xiaodan is not awake at the moment to stop me.”
Malekh didn’t despise him.
Fuck.
“I’m not interested in you.” Remy could feel the warmth of Malekh’s breath against his neck and heard the man take a slow, long inhale, like he could physically sniff out his lies.
“Is that so.” A knee moved between his thighs. “Then why are you as hard as the weapon you’re so fond of carrying?”
“I concede,” Remy rasped. He was sagging, Malekh the only reason he was still upright. “I forfeit this fucking fight. Let me go.”
“I know what you did in the woods, Pendergast. I know what you were thinking.”
The shudder that went through him was like a lightning bolt. “You’re already with her. Why would you both…?”
“Neither Xiaodan nor I had intentions of pursuing anyone else while we remain committed to each other. She has always been honest with me, and I with her. And when we both realized the hunter she’d been enchanted with in Elouve was the same one I’d fought…”
Remy could feel Malekh’s mouth against his ear, the vibrations as his lips formed words against his skin. “Tell me you don’t want this, Pendergast. Tell me you wouldn’t want Xiaodan here with me, either. All three of us.”
A part of him wanted Malekh to close the distance. To reenact all the dishonorable thoughts of him that Remy had harbored in the carriage. Another part wanted to knock him out cold.
The tip of a tongue stroked a line up his neck, and the latter part won out.
Malekh reappeared three feet from his right, smiling so smugly that it made Remy’s fist hurt, even though he’d swung and missed.
“You cannot use my brother to get what you want,” the vampire said, now back to his bored, slightly contemptuous self. “If you don’t want me to go easy on you, then I shall accede to your wishes.”
Remy charged at him, and this time the vampire was true to his word. In one swift movement, Breaker was torn from his grasp, and Remy landed hard on the ground, ears ringing from the cuff Malekh had delivered right across the fleshy part of his shoulder—any harder, and he would have dislocated it.
He was back on his feet despite the pain, rolling quickly to snatch his weapon back up and facing the vampire noble again.
Malekh’s eyes were no longer bright from lust. “You think no one can anticipate your moves,” he said. “But even random attacks require a follow-through, which you do not capitalize on. Remember that when you try to hit me again.”
“Fuck you,” Remy said.
“Perhaps one day, Pendergast. Now, shut up and strike me.”
Remy hadn’t wanted to feel disappointed. His neck still tingled, knowing how close he’d gotten to being marked there, how close he’d come to letting the man do it. How much of it had been an act? How much had been revenge for insulting his brother—Remy’s fault for constantly needling the man there, granted—and how much had been the truth? Because Malekh was closed off to him once again, his eyes impossible to read.
Xiaodan was still sleeping. The noble had always been softer when it came to his fiancée, and it didn’t feel like he would lie about anything concerning her, even if he was a prick the rest of the time.
Remy didn’t want to think. He was angry, even though the vampire was doing exactly what he had asked him to do. Anger was good. Anger helped him focus on the fight and not what had just passed.
“Don’t mind if I do,” he said, then raised Breaker and charged again.