Page 33 of The Silver Spider
Chapter Eleven
She wasin no mood for further investigating after meeting Dawnthorne. Did she know for certain what Dawnthorne’s role in the flesh trade was? No. But she knew where to find him. For now, she wanted only the relative privacy and quiet of her roomette, a meal, and rest. She still had to work that evening, and she needed her full strength.
“I’ll be close,” Amnan said when he dropped her off. To his credit, he didn’t ask to come in or seem to expect she invite him. They might technically live together now, though it occurred to her she could leave Maddugh’s home and return to her cottage any time she chose, but that didn’t mean her apartment was his apartment. Stepbrother or no.
So, he left, and she cobbled together a sandwich and peeled off her clothing to slip into a loose night gown, and burrowed under her coverlet for a few hours of sleep.
By the time she woke, her body felt refreshed, but not her mood. Amnan did not come to her door, but when she left the building into the blessed relief of night and began walking to her job, she felt eyes on her, the scent of brimstone in the air, and knew he was following.
She entered the club, but the rest of the evening went poorly. She endured a suspicious stare and blistering lecture from her supervisor, who’d seen Amnan come in close on Serephone’s heels at the last moment, and come to the wrong conclusion. Amnan had had to smooth over the woman’s wrath with an unexpected charming humility and insistence he was to blame. He didn’t admit to being Serephone’s stepbrother, which was odd.
Etienne was in Amalie’s section, staring down Serephone as well. There was a certain displeasure to the set of his shoulders, though his face remained neutral.
“You have a new swain,” the male said. This evening his dark blond hair was artfully tousled, pansy blue eyes piercing.
“He is my mother’s husband’s son,” she said shortly. “Drink?”
The two males spent the rest of the evening in a silent battle. Though Amnan had said he was going to return to his booth, inconspicuous, he took a table in Serephone’s section, stretched out an arm over the tall-backed edge of the couch, and watched Etienne. Pointedly.
If she fetched a drink for one, the other engaged her in pointless conversation.
If one engaged her in pointless conversation, the other asked for a tray of tidbits. Oddly enough, though Amnan’s demands became increasingly…indecent, Etienne remained strictly neutral. It was the only reason she hadn’t yet punched someone.
“I’ve never seen two males fight over a bone like this before,” Amalie said in her ear. “And Etienne—he is so restrained. I’m surprised. He’s sampled every female here, who is available.”
“Well, I’m not available, so there you go.”
Amalie shrugged, and walked away. She caught Olukemi’s amused eyes more than once as well, but the woman’s section was on the far side of the club, and she was busy as well.
Serephone finally put a stop to the nonsense. Crouching down at Amnan’s feet, the picture of demure sensuality should her floor supervisor happen to glance over, she smiled up at him through her lashes and said, “If you don’t stop this animal posturing, I will add something special to your next drink. You get me?”
Amnan paused, lifted a finger, and leaned forward. “I dare you.”
His nose nearly touched hers. It was an undignified pose for a dragon his age. “You don’t want to dare me, Amnan.”
“That’s the first time you’ve said my name.”
They stared at each other. Serephone was baffled by his sudden pleasure, and rose warily. She didn’t like when men were pleased—it usually meant they were up to no good.
“I’ll behave,” he said mildly, and stretched out a hand. She stared at it like it was a brand of particularly venomous, radioactive snake, then took it, uncertain of what, exactly, he wanted her to do.
And jumped, squeaking when he lifted the back of her hand to his mouth in a courtly kiss.
“Lady.” He released her.
She fled, but tried to make it look like a dignified stalk.
* * *
Serephone conducteda similar conversation with Etienne. He shrugged, watching Amnan. “He is no regular, and he has a whiff of dragon about him, but I know everyone in the local flight.”
“He’s from my hometown,” she said.
“Oh? Well, that explains it.”
She set his tray of nibbles on his table. “No, it really doesn’t. You want anything else? ”
Etienne grinned. Serephone stilled, arrested. There was something…fleetingly familiar about that grin. Something that tugged at the back of her mind. She blinked, and it was gone. As she turned away, Etienne’s finger tapped the back of her thigh.
