Page 35 of The Silver Spider
Her hand curled into a fist. He had no right.
“Sit,” he repeated, voice gentle. “Please. This is important. I think you may be in danger from Dawnthorne.”
Serephone slid next to him on the booth, kicked off her heels. “What is it?”
He didn’t move, not even a finger, waiting to speak until she’d relaxed. “I’m afraid he may be able to control you, or find you, through the geas. If it’s a binding in your blood, then you’ll light up like a beacon anytime he seeks you.”
“What do you propose?”
“I want to…create my own tracking spell on you. It would work both ways.”
Her first, visceral response was an emphaticno.He saw it on her face. “It’s for safety, Sere. If something happens and I can’t find you… I would be very angry. You don’t want me tearing through the city, do you?”
“I’m not responsible for your actions,” she said, crossing her arms.
He waited while she thought about it, unmoving, watching her face. “Your supervisor is approaching,” he said, voice quiet. “Move closer to me. I won’t touch you.”
She turned her head, just enough, to see the woman out of the corner of her eye, and sighed. And scooted closer, then grimaced, and pressed her side against him, the way she’d seen other girls with their patrons. His body was warm, bordering on hot, the strength of his muscles under her touch as she slid her hand onto his chest impressive. He flexed, a subtle tic and she glanced at him. His jaw was tight, eyes narrow.
The supervisor wandered by, then paused at their table. “Lord Amnan, I hope your evening is going well.”
“Bring a bottle of the 2250 Fae Red,” he said without looking at the woman.
Serephone blinked. That bottle cost more than she made at the club in a week.
“It will keep her off of us as long as we need to talk,” he said when she left.
“You just bought me for the entire night,” Serephone said, voice even.
“You’re not a thing to be bought. One day, I hope you’ll give me what we both want.”
She stiffened, looking away. “If that’s the conversation you want to have, then—”
“No.” He sighed.
The supervisor returned with a bottle and two clean glasses, plus a tray of small bites, compliments of the chef to enjoy, then left with a sweet smile for Serephone.
She sighed. “I suppose I should thank you. She’ll be in a good mood for at least two evenings. But it’s still a waste of money.”
“A beautiful woman is never a waste of money.” He lifted a hand. “I know, no flirting. Here, sip your wine, relax. No, don’t move.”
All the orders were beginning to irritate her. She contemplated the red wine, wondering what he would do if she just threw it in his face.
“And don’t dothat, either,” Amnan said, voice dry. “But we were discussing a tracking spell.”
Serephone sipped the wine. Maybe it would numb her poor feet. “What does it entail?”
“The simplest one to anchor would be with an exchange of fluids. Blood and saliva would count.”
“That sounds gross.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
She glanced up at him, but his lids were lowered over his eyes so she couldn’t see their color or brightness, or the shape of his pupils. “How?”
“A kiss.”
She set down the glass. “Ofcourse. Why didn’t I think of that?”
