“No, Lord Cordus, he didn’t say anything. I’m quite certain.”

Four days had passed since Graham’s absence was noticed. His escape was a mystery. A tracker had followed his trail from outside his bedroom window to the edge of Cordus’s property, but there was no sign he’d crossed the barrier. Zion, called back from an assignment in northern Virginia, had confirmed the trail but hadn’t been able to get a fix on Graham’s current location, which suggested he was far away. Cordus had people combing the city anyway and was checking with more distant members of the organization. No one had turned up anything.

Back and forth he walked. Back and forth.

This was the first time he’d questioned me. Only that morning had Gwen told him about my visit to Graham. Weirdly, she’d forgotten about it, and apparently no one else had known of it. I hadn’t mentioned it myself. I hadn’t thought it mattered.

“Why did you go see him?”

“I was hoping he’d explain what he’d done. It was bothering me.”

“Were you lovers?”

I bristled. What business was that of his? Rather than snap at him, I just didn’t answer.

He looked at me sharply, like some bird of prey seeing movement in the grass. Slowly, he came to a standstill.

“And what story did he spin for you, pray tell?”

“He said he’d been sentenced to death, and Lord Limu used that to blackmail him.”

Cordus cocked his head, continuing to stare at me.

Did he really think Graham would’ve told me about his escape plans? That wouldn’t make any sense.

“What else did he tell you?”

“He said he’d slept with Kara.”

“And what else?”

I stared at Cordus, trying to decide how to answer. Graham had said not to mention the mouse, but it was just a mouse. Why should it be a secret?

I thought of his face, pale and lovely, touched with sunlight and shadow. And suddenly I knew: at the very last, he’d said one true thing. A tiny gift, one without cost. But perhaps priceless.

“He didn’t say anything else.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

Cordus stalked toward me. He loomed over me for a moment, then reached down for my hand and pulled me up. He stepped closer, then closer still, leaning into me. I couldn’t look away. I watched the tawny starbursts in his irises expand as his pupils dilated. My heart rate spiked. He traced a pattern on the back of my hand with his thumb. I jumped as his other hand slid around behind my neck and into my hair. He lowered his lips to my ear. On the way, they brushed against my cheek. A little sound came out of me before I could stop it.

“Miss Ryder,” he whispered, nuzzling my hair, “why are you lying to me?”