5

~Corton~

Redakai had left the room, but the silence remained. Minutes passed, then, Drayton, leaning back against the mantel, folded his arms, and gazing toward the doorway, muttered, “Well…that was unexpected.”

I didn’t answer immediately, instead, stretching my legs out across the table, I tipped my chair back onto two legs, letting it balance while I stared up at the ceiling.

Unexpected. I’d say decidedly so. Though Drayton wasn’t wrong, the word just…didn’t seem descriptive enough.

Letting out a quiet breath through my nose, I nodded. “That’s one way of putting it.”

Syrus didn’t respond, as standing near the bookshelf, one hand resting on the spine of an open volume, his eyes had long since left the page. He wasn’t reading, he was thinking, which meant he had seen it too.

How could he not? Redakai Laraque did nothing without reason. Nothing.

Drayton’s gaze shifted toward me. “You’re awfully quiet.”

I let the chair drop back onto all four legs with a soft thud and leaned forward, resting my forearms against my knees. “I’m deciding,” I murmured, “whether to be impressed or concerned.”

Drayton frowned slightly. “About what?”

I looked at him, then toward the door Redakai had disappeared through. “About the fact that he walked into a slave auction,” I said slowly, “and walked out with her.”

Drayton’s mouth twitched faintly, though the humor didn’t fully land this time. “You’re enjoying this.”

“No,” I replied, quieter now. “Not that part.”

Syrus closed the book in his hand with a soft, deliberate sound. “That flame wasn’t uncontrolled,” he said.

I glanced at him. “No,” I agreed. “It wasn’t.”

Chains on her wrists, four men watching she didn’t know, and she hadn’t lost it. 

Drayton pushed away from the mantel and crossed to the table, pouring a drink without looking at either of us. “She’s frightened,” he said. “People do strange things when they’re frightened.”

Syrus shook his head, “Not like that. That was utter control,” he muttered.

I leaned back slightly in my chair, letting the thought settle, then slowly exhaling, I stated, “It appears she’s been in control of her magic for a while.”

Drayton, having taken a drink, swallowed, then, setting the glass down with a quiet tap, murmured, “Or she got lucky.”

“No,” Syrus replied.

I studied him for a moment, then shifted my attention back to the door. The flame wasn’t the problem, or at least not the real one. Straightening slightly, I said, “Tell me the last time he did that.”

Drayton frowned. “Did what?”

I waved my hand toward the door. “Brought someone into this house without explanation.”

Silence greeted my words, and that was answer enough.

“Exactly,” I stated.

Redakai wasn’t the type who improvised. He wasn’t the type who acted on impulse. Every person who entered this house had come through channels he controlled. By arrangements, agreements. He avoided unnecessary attention, avoided it like a human avoided the plague. And auctions sure as hell weren’t a place he went, and yet, tonight, he had.

Drayton rubbed the back of his neck. “You think he planned it.”

I looked at him. “That’s not a theory.”

Syrus moved toward the window, moonlight catching along the edge of his profile as he stared out into the courtyard below. “He knew something,” he declared.

Drayton exhaled. “That’s not the same as planning.”

“No,” Syrus agreed. “It isn’t.”

Gaze shifting, I followed his line of sight toward the gates beyond the courtyard, to the quiet stretch of street lit in soft lantern glow.

“How would he know?” Drayton asked.

Syrus didn’t answer right away, just continued staring out the window. When he did turn, his expression hadn’t changed. “That,” he said, “is the question.”

I rubbed my thumb slowly along my jaw. That was the part that didn’t fit. Redakai didn’t walk into uncertainty. Not like that. Never without already knowing what he would find.

“Well,” I announced after a moment, voice low, “either he developed a sudden interest in women who set their hands on fire or…he went looking for her.”

Neither of them argued my words, instead, Drayton leaned back against the table. “She survived that auction.”

“Yes,” I agreed.

Syrus’s voice lowered slightly. “And when Redakai told her to show us, she hadn’t begged not to.”

“No,” Drayton and I said in unison.

Drayton folded his arms. “She’s strong.”

I nodded. “Yes.”

Syrus’s gaze narrowed slightly as he looked toward the ceiling. “But that’s not the interesting part.”

I lifted a brow. “Then enlighten me.”

His attention shifted toward the upper floor. Toward the room Redakai had taken her to.

“The interesting part,” he said slowly, “is the way he looked at her.”

“Truth,” I murmured. I had seen it too.

Drayton shook his head. “You’re both reading too much into it.”

Syrus didn’t respond, he didn’t need to, because he knew Drayton had seen it. He just hadn’t decided what it meant yet.

I leaned back again, letting the chair balance slightly under me. “The last time he looked at anything like that,” I said, “it didn’t end quietly.”

Drayton’s gaze snapped to mine. “That was different.”

I didn’t answer, because the truth was, I wasn’t sure it was.

Syrus stepped back toward the fire, the light catching in his eyes as he watched the flames. “She’s more than she appears.”

“Yes,” I said.

That part wasn’t in question. I could feel it.

I leaned forward again, resting my arms across my knees as I looked toward the door.

“Whatever she is,” I said quietly, “he recognized it.”

That was the only explanation that made sense. Not curiosity, not impulse, recognition, and that…that was worse. Because if Redakai had recognized something in her, then nothing moving forward was going to be easy.Not even close.

Syrus exhaled slowly, then muttered. “And I fear this is just the beginning of whatever is to come.”

Syrus’s words fell about the room, and for the first time that night, I found I wasn’t amused: not in the least.