Nolan tossed the containers into his shopping bag and stepped from the pharmacy into the Complex proper. This was the far end of the building, a city block from his usual entrance. He would walk very, very slowly to his accustomed stairwell and decide on the way what, exactly, he would say to Pakt.

And then he spotted her, leaning against the wall as she had been that first time he had seen her, in almost exactly the same place, though this time she looked a little less despairing. And on the instant, he knew what he must do. The plan blossomed in his head and crowded out every other thought and question. Before he could change his mind, before he could critique his theory, he crossed the wide hall at a near-run and grabbed her arm so she could not slip away. She looked first frightened and then quelling, but he did not care. She would do exactly as he said; she had to. He had no choice and neither did she.

“Kitrini Candachi,” he said, and she gasped out an affirmative. “If you don’t come with me now, I’ll see to it that your gulden boyfriend dies. We have to leave instantly—you and I—for Gold Mountain.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

He was certainly a madman. Despite the expensive clothes, despite the cobalt skin that marked him a highcaste purebred, he was clearly deranged. They were in a public place; she was relatively safe. She had merely to scream and someone would come to her rescue.

But she did not scream. She said, “How could you hurt Jex?”

His hand tightened on her arm, and he gave her a little shake. “Never mind how I could hurt him,” he growled. “Just know that it’s in my power. And I will, unless you take me to Gold Mountain to see Chay Zanlan.”

Kit felt an odd squirt of panic shoot through all the junctures of her bones. “Why would you need to see Chay?”

“Why are you asking questions? Don’t you care what happens to your boyfriend? Don’t you care that I have the power of life and death in my hands? Do what I say, and everything will be fine.”

His speech had a bizarre, melodramatic quality to it; he delivered his lines as if they came uneasily to his tongue. As if he was not used to threatening people, as if his ability to deal in death was not one he relished. Of course, he was crazy. He had no such power.

But.

“Tell me why it’s so important for you to see Chay,” she said in what she hoped was a calm, sane voice. “Then I’ll decide.”

For a minute, his fierceness wavered. A look of utter desolation crossed his face and set ghosts to dancing in his eyes. Then his expression hardened, and he tossed her arm aside. He took one long stride away from her.