Black On Black (Quentin Black Mystery #3) (38 page)

I continued to stare at him, feeling that sickness in my gut deepen. “You...
 
tortured him. Molested him...
 
raped him. Made him kill people. Sent him to a religious
brainwashing
camp. Stabbed him through the gut and left him for Ian to butcher...
 
all so you could make sure he was a suitable candidate...”

I met his gaze, unable to comprehend my own words.

“...to
date
me?”

“You’re damned right I did!” Uncle Charles smacked his palm on the back of the chair he stood over, his voice openly angry. “Miriam, I made a mistake letting Ian get too close to you. I made another letting him get
involved
with you without doing more extensive checks on his mental stability. I made a further mistake thinking Solonik would obey my
explicit orders
when I told him that under no circumstances was he to abduct you to blackmail Quentin Black. I wasn’t going to make that mistake again...
 
not after
Solonik.
I’d had enough. I pulled Black so I could do a more thorough assessment of him...”

“I’m a
grown fucking woman!”
I burst out, still in disbelief. “Who the hell do you think you are? You disappear from my life for
twenty years,
leaving me alone when I was a kid, when I actually
needed
you...
 
only to show up and start beating the hell out of my new boyfriend out of some misguided sense of parental concern?”

“Miriam, I
was
concerned for you––”

“––And what exactly is it that you ‘assessed’ him on? His loyalty to the race? His loyalty to me? To you? To your dragon god? What?”

“He cooperated,” Uncle Charles said, his voice steel. “He willingly cooperated, Miriam. Once he knew what I wanted, he agreed to my request.”

I threw up my hands with a half-humorous laugh. “He cooperated? What choice did you give him?”

“One,” he cut in. “I gave him one other choice. And it wasn’t one he liked.”

“And what was that?”

“He could walk away from you.”

I stared at him, feeling my jaw harden the longer I studied his face.

I couldn’t say his words didn’t affect me, although I didn’t let myself look over at Black after he said them. I couldn’t say he, meaning Uncle Charles, didn’t affect me still either, just by being there at all. He affected me enough that my throat closed as the reality of who he really was continued to sink in.

In the end I finally did look at Black. He’d paled even more in the intervening minutes. He was sweating now, too. Most of that was from the physical pain he was in as they cleaned and disinfected both ends of the wound.

I felt more on him, an intensity of heat, almost a longing––

“You’d better go to him,” Uncle Charles said. He exhaled, an openly irritated sound that resembled a growl. “He’s going to lose his shit if you don’t...
 
I don’t think he’s slept for a week. Between that and the drugs he’s used to stay awake, I have my doubts his rationality is going to hold out much longer.”

He grimaced at Black, then met my gaze directly.

“...and frankly, his complaint is valid. I don’t have the right to keep you from him at this point. Being seer, he can’t help but want you in his light when he’s this badly wounded. We should have patched him up in Denon before moving him...
 
you were right about that, too.”

When I gave my uncle an incredulous look, he made a dismissive wave with one hand.

“Seers want their family with them when they are hurt...
 
particularly when the adrenaline wears off. That appears to be happening to him now too.”

I looked from Black to Uncle Charles.

“Family? Black isn’t my––”

“Light family,” he clarified, without looking at me. “It is different for seers.” His lip curled as he continued to glare at Black. “A mate is primary in that. In his view I am keeping you from him...
 
which is wrong according to our laws. And he has a point. I
am
keeping you from him. But I’m still angry at the little shit...
 
he knows that, too.”

When I continued to stand there unmoving, my uncle gripped the back of the chair until his knuckles whitened. I saw him stare at Black, real hostility in his pale green eyes. When he glanced back at me, he’d wiped that expression so blank I almost doubted I’d seen it at all.

“Go to him,” Uncle Charles said to me, a flatter command. His lips firmed to a line. “...Or don’t. It’s up to you. But he’s going to keep pulling on you like that until you do. I don’t think he can help himself at this point...
 
and it’s goddamned annoying, to be truthful.”

I could feel what he was talking about.

Black
was
pulling on me––so intensely I almost couldn’t think straight once I let myself feel it. I’d been blocking him for the last few minutes, pretty much the instant that other seer yanked off his shirt. I also realized Black’s silent insistence with me was part of the reason I was yelling at my uncle. It was part of the reason I was having trouble standing still...
 
and controlling my emotions...
 
and even being there at all without yelling at someone.

I stopped fighting it.

I walked directly to Black.

I positioned myself behind his chair at first, but moved when he reached a hand up, wrapping his fingers around my arm and gripping me tightly before he pulled me closer. When I slid more to the side of the chair where he wanted me, he leaned his face into my abdomen, closing his eyes. The intensity of feeling behind that simple contact brought a lump to my throat. I found myself stroking his hair, then his face, then the back of his neck. I felt him relax further into me as I did. Massaging his neck more deliberately, I felt some part of myself I’d held clenched in a fist slowly begin to open.

I felt exhaustion on him as he relaxed, so intensely it brought up another wave of emotion in me. I was massaging the back of his head when I felt him sigh.

So much relief lived in that, it closed my throat.

Strangely though, more than anything, I felt myself calming down.

For a long-feeling few minutes I just stood there, massaging muscle and skin, stroking his hair, feeling him relax into me. At the end of those few minutes, I felt almost normal again. Not just normal compared to the last few hours––normal compared to any time. Definitely the most normal I’d felt at any point in the last few weeks.

Almost pre-Bangkok normal.

Maybe not entirely, but close.

My brain leveled more when Black leaned more of his weight into me, sinking deeper into the chair. He only flinched a little when the seer kneeling on his other side went back to cleaning the wound. I saw a suture kit sitting on the floor by the same seer’s knees. The other seer kneeling there––the same Asian-looking male with mercury-colored eyes I’d seen before––was readying a needle and thread to hand to the other seer when he finished.

I glanced back at my uncle. With my added calm, seeing that familiar face and those green eyes, I realized something else.

I couldn’t trust anything this man told me.

For all I knew, he’d killed my parents. In fact, the more I thought about that possibility, the more likely it seemed. He might have killed Zoe. The realization clenched my chest all over again, and Black held me tighter, exuding more heat, a kind of soothing calm that sank through my skin. He didn’t tell me I was wrong, though.

My uncle’s expression paled as I watched.

“Gaos,
Miriam...
 
I did not kill Darius. Or Janie!”

My parents’ names.

When I didn’t answer, and he flushed bright red.

“I did not kill
Zoe
, Miri...
 
gaos
! My darling girl, how could ever you think such a thing? Why do you think I left? I was trying to protect you!”

“You did a pretty lousy job,” I told him coldly.

“Did I?” he said. “You’re alive, aren’t you?”

I didn’t trust him though, not after what he’d done to Black––not after what he’d done to me, assigning Ian to spy on me all of those years. Even so, it was hard not to see the intensity of feeling in those green eyes as he returned my gaze.

“Gaos,”
he said, that feeling reaching his voice. “Miriam. You must let me explain...”

“Must I?” I said. “I’m really curious why you think I should, under the circumstances. You just admitted you basically tortured Black––”

“Not tortured.” He shook his head. “I had him tested. That’s all.”

He gave Black a grudging look.

“He did well...
 
better than I’d hoped, truthfully.” He glanced at me and his voice turned businesslike. “Some of my methods might have been crude, but none of it was done without purpose, Miriam. Everything you listed had a specific goal in mind. I wanted to know if he had fanatical tendencies...
 
thus the religious meetings. I suspected he didn’t––I was more concerned he wasn’t religious at all truthfully––but I wasn’t about to risk that after Ian. I also wanted to know when and why he would be willing to kill, where he drew that line, both with seers and humans. Thus the contracts he was given. He did refuse a number of them by the way, and his rate of refusal satisfied me.”

He made another vague gesture with one hand.

“...Truthfully, I also wanted to know how good he was. Given his arrogance on that front, I needed to know if it was warranted. I needed to know if I could trust him to keep you safe,
ilya,
if anyone ever came after you again. For that reason alone, merely ‘competent’ wouldn’t cut it. I wanted some feel for his ability with strategy. His intelligence.”

When I met Uncle Charles’ gaze incredulously, his eyes hardened.

“Mostly, however...
 
I wanted to know how
loyal
he would be to you, and you to him, which is why
this
needed to be the final test. I allowed him to drop you breadcrumbs to see if you would come for him. You did, which was half of it...
 
although I would have preferred it if you hadn’t involved those sewer-dwelling worms, Uri and Alexei, since now I will have to deal with them, as well.” He gave me a concessionary look. “Although that was quite clever, Miri, to think of such a thing. I even understand you threatening our race with exposure, but Black was not wrong in saying that particular strategy is playing with fire, Miriam...”

“And?” I said, looking between him and Black. “That was it? You wanted to see if I’d come for him? If I cared enough to rescue him?”

Uncle Charles made a vague, more or less gesture with one hand.

“That was part of it,” he said. “...And just now, with Ian, I also gave him the opportunity to save himself or to risk his own life for yours.”

I stared at him as the words sank in.

Then my mouth hardened in a grimace of disgust. “You forced him to risk his life for me? And that proves...
 
what? That he’s not a sociopath, like you?”

My uncle’s mouth thinned. He gave a light shrug.

“Would you like to know how he did with the rest of it?”

“The rest of what?”

“I offered him sex, too,
ilya
...” His eyes changed, growing as hard as glass. “As much as he wanted, and not only with humans.” He gauged my expression. “Do you want to know how he performed on that particular test? Your...” Again, he stumbled on the word. “...Your
partner.
Quentin Black?”

“You mean the times when you didn’t force him?” I said coldly.

My uncle didn’t blink. “Yes. Those times.”

I shook my head, gritting my teeth. “No.”

“No?”

“Absolutely not. It’s none of my business.”

“Isn’t it?”

Black gripped me tighter with his hands. I felt a kind of sickness on him, and anger at my uncle. He didn’t say anything though, and I could almost feel him listening, straining with some other part of himself as if bracing himself for what my uncle might say. I didn’t really want to feel any of that, so I shook my head, still glaring at my uncle.

“No,” I said. “It’s really not.”

“Miri...” Black began, his voice worried.

“Well,” my uncle said, shooting Black a warning look. “I now know you don’t trust him. That is interesting information to have, to be sure.” He paused, looking between the two of us, and then exhaled a kind of purring, grudging sigh. “He surprised me, truthfully. His reputation is not...
 
blemish-free in that regard. I admit I hoped his promiscuity might be an easy way to show you some of the defects of his character. Or of his youth, at least. Lack of self-control is often a weakness with young seers...
 
and not only in bed.”