Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
M ireille arrived at the archives hall the next morning at eight o’clock sharp, bright and early as usual. She’d already been awake for several hours anyway, had spent the morning in the practice room at the Grand Ethyrian, blissfully alone now that the company’s season had officially ended.
She’d gone back to her apartment to shower and change, then come here to IA HQ to continue her research. She figured she’d have at least several hours to herself before Ronin showed up.
She pushed through the windowed door. “Morning, Sonya.” She folded her arms—pleasantly sore from her rigorous practice routine—upon the desk. “Can I get the key card, please?”
Sonya gave her a sly look. “Your partner’s already back there.”
Mireille nearly choked on her tongue. “ My partner? Ronin Matakos?”
Sonya nodded. “Arrived about an hour ago. Seemed pretty excited, too, about whatever he has to share with you.”
Mireille let out a small shocked sound, then leaned across the desk and lowered her voice. “Any news on that other matter?”
Mireille had been asking Sonya over the years if there were any records of a male that might have been associated with her mother, or any filings about Mireille’s birth. Sonya was discreet, one of the few—really the only—colleague that Mireille trusted at the IA, so she didn’t worry about revealing her true last name to the kind, motherly Windrider.
And now that the Empire had claimed to have learned her father’s identity, she’d hoped that maybe Sonya would find something new in the system.
Sonya dipped her eyes, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, my dear. There’s still nothing other than what I’ve already given you.”
Which was nothing more than Mireille herself had already known. A report detailing Vivienne Valois’s abandonment of her pack and the birth of her daughter, with no name of the father listed on the certificate. Mireille had often thought about trying to find her mother’s pack, visiting them under the guise of a veiling potion to see if she could tease out any information about her father. But it was a risk she was unwilling to take, given what had transpired at the cabin.
Mireille sighed, pushing back from the counter. “Thanks for checking again,” she called over her shoulder as she strode to the room at the back of the hall.
Shock stilled her feet when she opened the door. Folders, books, and documents were scattered across every surface, and an array of papers rustled from where they’d been pinned to the corkboard.
Ronin sat at the table, buzzing with excitement. “Valette.” He gifted her a genuinely delighted smile, and her stomach flip-flopped.
“Matakos,” she answered carefully. “Are you messing with me? What are you doing here so early?”
He stood and pulled out a chair, angling it toward the board and encouraging her to take a seat. “Just eager to show you how wrong you were about my ability to find anything useful.”
She huffed a short laugh. “Or how right I was to challenge your studying skills.”
He vibrated with impatience as he hustled her into the chair, taking her bag and placing it on the floor.
“Yes, yes, you’re a master manipulator, played me perfectly, got me wrapped around your little finger. Need me to keep stroking your ego or can I show you what I found?”
He crossed his burly arms, his onyx brows peeking through his tousled white strands.
Frenzied Dienses, it should be illegal for a male to be that good looking. She wondered why he’d come up here to Kheimos after his caging. He could’ve easily gone down to Delos, charmed the panties off some rich, widowed female and lived the rest of his days as a well-kept boy toy.
“You don’t need my permission,” she said. “I’m not your master.”
He cocked his head and smirked. “Would you like to be?”
Her stomach gave another stupid little flutter. “High Gods, Ronin, just tell me what you found.”
He seemed far too amused by her annoyance, and she scolded herself for letting him rile her. But she couldn’t help it. Of all the males she’d dealt with, Ronin had a unique ability for getting under her skin. In more ways than she cared to admit.
“Okay.” He clapped his hands and turned to the board. She tried, and failed, not to notice how well his broad shoulders filled out his tight black shirt.
Not relevant. Focus .
“These are the reports of the disappearances, the ones the relatives gave to the IA.” He tapped on several of the sheets. “Note the dates.”
Mireille made a cursory scan.
“ Note them, Mireille,” he scolded. “They’ll become important as I continue.”
She bit her lip to suppress a laugh. His enthusiasm was unexpected. And kind of adorable. She attached her gaze to each one in turn, cataloging the dates. “Noted.”
He side-stepped to the other side of the board, waving his hand across a series of images showing the night sky above the Blackspurs.
Mireille instantly recognized what she was looking at, and High Gods help her, she was actually impressed. “Those are the Scales of Nyctima.”
The iridescent, multicolored lights—a rare, natural phenomenon named after Nyctima, the giant pet serpent of Stygios—appeared in the Northern Territories’ sky every one-hundred-and-five days. They were said to represent the serpent as she prowled the skies of Ethyrios in search of recently departed souls.
Ronin flashed a smug, closed-lip smile. “These images were taken by the Figroth observatory in the eastern Blackspurs. And guess when they occurred?”
“The same dates those Fae disappeared,” Mireille murmured.
“Gold star.” Ronin tapped Mireille’s nose and she swatted him away. “And guess when the Scales of Nyctima will next grace our illustrious city’s sky?”
“Next week.” Mireille exhaled a long breath.
Ronin nodded. “When Otto is finally opening up his estate for this event.”
Mireille shook her head, surveying Ronin’s work. “Nicely done.”
“Not just a dumb beast after all.” Ronin cracked his knuckles. “Though other than the timing, I’m not sure what else this signifies.”
Mireille turned her chair back to the table and Ronin took the one beside her, wafting his enticing, evergreen scent. She rifled through the piles, then found the shipping intake forms she’d been reviewing yesterday.
“So, we know Otto’s been ordering large supplies of anastasium, the god-touched stone of Stygios. And now we find out that Fae have disappeared from his estate on nights when a light show named after the High God’s snake appears in the sky? Obviously it’s not a coincidence. Do you think the lights activate the stones somehow?”
Ronin rubbed at his jaw. “Even if they do, what is Otto using them for?”
“I don’t know.” Mireille twirled a strand of hair around her finger. She’d left it down today, and she saw Ronin mark the movement. “Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Well, after we learned that Otto had been taking in shipments of the stone, I went to the Imperial library downtown and checked out a few books about anastasium’s uses over the years, just to make sure I wasn’t wrong about it being merely decorative. I read through all ten books yesterday?—”
“As one does,” Ronin cut in.
“Anyway” —Mireille rolled her eyes— “there was an entry in one that said anastasium was originally discovered millennia ago in a small village deep within the Northern Territories called Listhima. The Deathstalkers who lived there used the stone in some kind of religious ritual, but the book was vague on the details. Whatever it was, that knowledge has long since faded from history, along with any mention of a potential source of Stygios’s power.”
Ronin rubbed a hand up the shaved side of his head, lost in thought, and Mireille had to consciously stop herself from staring.
She’d always thought he was handsome, even before they’d officially met. It was his personality that had been a turn off. Or what she’d assumed was his personality. He was cocky, of course…or maybe that wasn’t the right word. Because cocky implied an act, a lack of substance hidden behind false bravado.
But now, especially after everything she’d learned on their date, his arrogance held the unmistakable air of legitimacy. He was a male who had been through it and come out the other side to tell the tale. A bit more mature—and humble—than she’d expected.
And curse Amatu, Mireille was finding it all so disgustingly attractive.
She’d been trying to smother her interest these past few days by being as nasty and standoffish as possible. But despite her efforts, the seeds of a crush were blooming tiny sprigs of life.
He raised his gaze to find her staring. “What?”
“Nothing.” She darted her eyes away. “Did you find anything else in the disappearance reports?”
“Fucking taskmaster , Valette.” His sly grin exposed a sharp canine that had her involuntarily tonguing her own. “But there was one more thing.”
He angled his head back toward the board, his tattoos shifting across his taut neck muscles. He tapped his knuckles against one of the disappearance reports. “This Beastrunner female, Larissa Bisere. I know her brother Mattias. Used to fight him in the arena, though he hasn’t been back in months. I see him occasionally at the Crystal. I’ll reach out, see if he’s willing to meet with us after my fight tonight.”
“Good,” Mireille said, feeling like she should compliment Ronin on all the work he’d done, but not quite ready to give him that satisfaction. “What time?”
“Fight’s usually over by midnight. I’ll meet you at the Frosted Crystal after. One o’clock? Or is that past your bedtime?”
“It’s fine,” she snapped. “I’ll see you at one. I’m gonna head back over to the Imperial library, see if I can find anything else about anastasium or the Scales of Nyctima. Are you staying?”
“Nothing else to do.” He picked up a folder.
Mireille was once again impressed by his dedication, but didn’t say anything as she exited the room and shut the door.
Working with someone else wasn’t nearly as terrible as she’d anticipated.