“Raine, it won’t happen. I won’t allow it.”

My breath was coming quick and ragged. Slow down, Raine. You’re going to pass out. Balmorlan wants you terrified. You will not give him what he wants. I took a deep breath and let it out. It only trembled a little. “Markus, is Taltek Balmorlan reporting to anyone right now?”

“No.”

“Is he working with anyone?”

“Yes.”

“Are they vital to his operation?”

“At this point, very much so.”

“I want names.”

“Raine, I—”

“I want names,” I snapped. It took every bit of self-control I had not to scream those words.

I think Markus knew that. He listed three names. One had a title; two had military ranks.

All three had just become a Benares family project—along with their boss.

“Raine, I can help,” Mychael said.

I stood. “This isn’t within the law, Mychael. Your Guardians can’t help me.”

“I wasn’t referring to my Guardians.” His blue eyes were glacier cold.

“You know people?” Phaelan asked him.

“I do. Me.”

Chapter 17

The sun was coming up, birds were singing, and the breeze from the harbor didn’t stink yet. Most people would consider this to be the start of a good day.

I wasn’t most people, but I was determined to make today go my way for a change. I’d crammed my terror of elven prison cells into a dark corner of my mind. We were about to free Tam, and Markus was still on my side. Those two things, plus the vision of a financially and professionally ruined Taltek Balmorlan, were enough to put a smile on my face. It was probably a smile that most people would run from, but for a Benares, it meant we were happy.

“Thinking violently vindictive thoughts?” Mychael asked from beside me.

“I am.” I inhaled the harbor air as if it were a bouquet of flowers. “And enjoying myself while doing it.”

Mychael smiled slowly, a dangerous sparkle in his eyes. “You’re a bad girl, Raine Benares.”

“I do what I can.”

We gave any patrols and early risers the slip, and arrived unseen at Mychael’s basement hideaway. He didn’t mind his men seeing him, at least not once he was back in uniform and not wearing something a highwayman would be apprehended in. I was beginning to wonder if the real Mychael Eiliesor was someone in between.

Mychael closed the door behind us. I waited until he’d locked it.

“The only thing better than a ruined Taltek Balmorlan would be you telling me how you can help make him that way and be the paladin at the same time. I don’t see you tossing the law aside, even if it means getting Balmorlan.”

“I won’t be tossing the law aside; it has always dictated my actions.”

“Like your actions last night? The man I was with wasn’t the upright, law-abiding, and proper paladin. You handled Karl Cradock like a pro, and I don’t mean a Guardian.” I tossed my cloak on the bed. “Listen, your life is your own, so you don’t owe me an explanation, but I’d—”

“I want to give you one.” Mychael hesitated, his eyes focused on the closed door. “I protect those who need it by arresting or taking down those who deserve it. That is the intent of the law.”

“But not the letter of the law.”

“Sometimes the two aren’t the same,” he agreed.

“Don’t get me wrong—I approve completely of what you did last night. Hell, even I was impressed and I’ve seen some slick con men at work.” I took a deep breath and pushed on. “I’m going to need all the help I can get—legal and otherwise. But I’d never thought that someone who went to the Conclave college, became a Guardian cadet, then raced up through the ranks to paladin could be an ‘otherwise’ kind of man.”

“I didn’t go to school here; I’ve never been a cadet, so I didn’t race up through the ranks.”

I just stood there in stupefied silence. “What?” I finally managed.

“I didn’t—”

“I heard what you said. I just—”

“Assumed.”

“Apparently a hell of a lot.”

“Raine, I’ve never lied to you. You never asked.”

“How long have you been paladin?”

“Almost four years.”

“And you weren’t a Guardian before then?”

“No.”

The consummate Guardian, the proper paladin, had never even been one before. My thoughts ran around in confused circles, bumping into each other and getting nowhere fast.

“Doesn’t the paladin have to at least have been a Guardian at some point?”

“It’s the way it’s always been done—but not in my case.”

“But you said you were a student of Ronan Cayle.”

“Ronan sees a lot of already trained spellsingers. It helps our voices stay in shape.”

“Then who taught you?”

Mychael watched me in silence. “Is that what you really want to know?” he asked quietly.

I stood there, looking up into those sea blue eyes. Eyes that met mine unwaveringly. They were the eyes of an honest man, or so I thought.

“I want to know who you are.”

“Mychael Eiliesor.”

“A name doesn’t tell me who you are.” I stood there, looking up at him, trying to see beneath the surface. I was bonded to the man and I still didn’t know who he was. I had seen the avenging angel that he was inside. But the armor hadn’t gleamed and his robes hadn’t been white—maybe they had been that way at one time, but they weren’t anymore. They were singed, dirty, and bloodstained. Mychael Eiliesor had fought a lot of battles against others—maybe even against himself.

And in every last one of them, he’d done what he had to do.

An hour ago on the Red Hawk, he’d promised to do the same thing.

For me.

“Mychael, you’ve said that I can trust you with my life. I can do that—and I have done that.” I paused. “But I need you to be willing to trust me with yours.”

He crossed the small room to an armoire in the corner, opened it, and pulled out an exact copy of his paladin uniform. He began unbuttoning his leather doublet. “Justinius contacted me about four years ago and said he needed me as paladin.”

“ ‘Contacted’? Sounds like one of Markus’s agency terms.”

“I’ve never worked for the agency.”

“Who, then?”

Mychael took off the doublet and tossed it on the bed next to my cloak, quickly followed by his shirt. He half turned toward me. His arms and chest were sculpted with muscle, his shoulders broad. I knew this; I had seen the man virtually naked just a few days ago. Hell, I’d been in bed with him. But I still looked and couldn’t look away, and the urge to close the distance between us and let my fingers explore that smoothly muscled expanse was almost too much to resist.

Almost.

I needed answers, not a distraction. Focus, Raine.

“Who did you take your orders from?” I asked.

“I reported only to Queen Lisara’s father.”

“Do you report to the queen now?”

“No.”

Retired, then. Or at least on inactive status. And he couldn’t exactly be paladin of a politically neutral military order and take orders from the elven queen. Well, he could, but one thing I did know for certain was that Mychael Eiliesor would never split his loyalties.

“You were in the army?”

“For a while.”

I started doing the math. “You’re a highly skilled warrior who can use your voice to make almost anyone do anything; you can heal yourself; you can veil and glamour like nobody’s business, pretending to be anyone and conning your way into and out of sticky situations—then there’s the talents I haven’t even seen yet. No doubt the old king found your services invaluable.”

“I was adequately compensated.”

I’d heard of them, the men and women who reported only to the old king. Officially, they had no name, though they were called Black Cats by certain criminal elements who had the misfortune to come into contact with them. And since my last name was Benares, I’d heard the term more than once. Like a black cat in a dark alley, you might catch a glimpse of one, but before you could blink, it was gone. Black Cat operatives were trained to do what was needed, where it was needed, and to whom it needed to be done. They operated where the law couldn’t go or reach. They were never seen, never heard.

Never known.

Until now.

“A Black Cat,” I said simply.

Mychael arched a quizzical brow at me. He didn’t deny it. That was as close to a direct admission as I was likely to get.

“Yeah, I’ve heard the name,” I continued. “And I know the reputation. Legendary. So by being paladin, you’re just playing another role, albeit for a different boss.”

Mychael sat on the side of the bed and began removing his boots. “I am the paladin in every way that the law and my duties dictate. With the deteriorating political state of affairs on Mid during the past few years and the Saghred resurfacing, Justinius needed someone who could work within the law, but also knew how to work the system.” He pulled one boot off and tossed it aside. “Unfortunately, the law can’t solve all problems, and people like Carnades and Taltek Balmorlan are quite adept at circumventing it. Justinius asked me to serve as paladin because he needed someone he could trust to work cleanly outside of the system.” His second boot joined the first.

“Cleanly meaning not getting caught.”

Mychael stood, unhooked his belt, and began unbuttoning his trousers. He grinned at me. “At least not getting caught with my trousers down. Would you prefer to turn around while I finish changing?”

I shook my head. “I can safely say that I’ve seen everything you’ve got. So I’ll stay right where I am and keep getting answers.”