Chapter 7 #3
“Luke did say he was the one with the connections.” I took another drink. “Have you any idea who’s the brain behind these thefts?”
“Have you any idea who else might be working with Luke?”
“You don’t know? Because I rather suspect you—or at least Sophie—were well aware of Luke’s presence in Monica’s life and have already run checks on his half brother.”
“Stephan is all but a ghost, and while Luke may share Monica’s bed, we have discovered little to connect them to either rune theft.”
He paused as another waiter placed our main meal in front of us.
The risotto smelled and looked divine, but his tagliata—perfectly cooked strips of steak sitting on broadleaf rocket, with parmigiano, and sundried tomatoes, across which aged balsamic had been drizzled—made me wish I’d gone for that.
He picked up his knife and fork, then added, “I do not, however, believe Luke has the nous to organize such a complicated operation on his own. Nor does he have the funding.”
I scooped up some risotto and almost blissed out. Damn, it was good. “Luke’s family is far from poor—”
“Yes, but his father disinherited him ten years ago.”
“Why?”
“Gambling, women, and wine.” Another glorious smile tugged at his lips. “The latter two I thoroughly approve of, but the first is a dangerous road, and apparently one he’d driven along far too fast. His father paid off his debts, then tossed him out.”
“Which would explain the woman’s comment about Luke wanting vengeance. Perhaps he intends to use the rune to claim the inheritance his father took away.”
“I daresay anyone holding a modicum of wealth will end up a target. As I said, if you can assume the life of anyone for twenty-four hours, the world is your oyster.”
“No dark magic comes without its cost, though.”
“No, but I do not think him bright enough to worry about such a thing.”
We ate in companionable silence for a while, and that surprised me.
The various other times I’d tried dating over the years had been nerve-wracking in the extreme, and the incessant need to fill any gap with conversation strong.
With this man, I didn’t feel any of that.
Was it his lack of life force that made me so comfortable?
Being unable to read his responses to anything I said was certainly refreshing, but that was something I could have stopped at any point in those dates by shutting the inner darkness down completely.
Or was it simply the manner of the man? His tendency to lightly tease, the confident sexuality he exuded, his humor and silent strength.
He was unlike any man I’d met in my thirty-eight years of existence... and there was something deep within suggesting he was simply too good to be true. That the darkness I’d glimpsed when he spoke about his father ran far deeper than I might expect.
But that was a worry for another day. One that might never eventuate, despite my earlier realizations.
Once I’d finished my meal, I leaned back with a contented sigh.
“If the dessert is as good as that risotto, I shall leave here a happy woman. Now, you suggested earlier there was an organization behind Luke pulling his strings. Is that organization what you’re truly investigating here? And is Stephan a member of it?”
He smiled up at the waitress who came to collect our plates—momentarily disconcerting her with the wattage of it, if her reaction was anything to go by—then returned his gaze to me. “I do like the way your mind leaps about from one thing to another.”
“And I do not like the way you avoid answering questions with an offhand comment such as that.”
He laughed, causing a frisson of delight to skitter across my skin. “Yes, that is indeed the overall intent of the investigation.”
“I take it successes have been few and far between?”
“We chip away at the edges but to date have not found anything concrete to unmask those behind the organization.”
“Nothing at all?”
He shrugged. “Bits and pieces, as I said.”
“In other words, ask no questions and be told no lies.”
“I don’t lie.” Another of those smiles touched his lips, and my pulse did the appropriate dance. “Although I am not averse to bending the truth occasionally.”
“A white lie is still a lie,” I commented dryly.
“All of us tell lies. All of us conceal things.”
It was a statement that had the darkness stirring uneasily. What did he know? What had he been told? Surely nothing, because my parents and my ex had been careful to bury the dead—literally and figuratively.
Thankfully, our waiter appeared with the dessert menu, saving me the immediate necessity of answering.
They did indeed have tiramisu, so I ordered that and a cappuccino, then handed the menu back and took a drink of water.
By the time I faced his gaze again, the inner stirring had eased.
I picked up my phone, brought up the photos, and tapped the one I’d taken of the shard.
“There is one more piece of evidence that I haven’t handed in yet, though forensics are aware I have it.” I turned the phone around and showed him the image. “I found this shard in Francesca’s bedroom. Any idea what the rune on it is?”
“It’s obviously onyx, suggesting the spell stones it came from were owned by either a dark witch or mage.” He took the phone from me, his fingers lightly brushing mine. Deliberately, I suspected. He frowned at the image, then enlarged it, and I both saw and felt the shock that ran through him.
“I take it you recognize it?”
“The rune, yes, though it’s the glyph it bears that shocked me.”
“I hadn’t noticed a glyph.”
“You wouldn’t. It was designed to ensure those of purer magic would never see it.”
I would hardly call my magic pure, but he was no doubt talking about the Kang magic rather than my own private bit of darkness.
His gaze rose, the sapphire depths filled with a strange mix of concern, excitement, and hunger. It was the latter I definitely didn’t understand. “This is the symbol of the Libertine, the organization we believe is behind Luke and Stephan’s current adventure.”
I would hardly call it an adventure, but... “So who are the Libertine when they’re home?”
His gaze met mine, the concern stronger. “They are the Society’s dark counterpart—and they will kill you to get this shard back.”