“I questioned the other Sire who was rescued, and she had no useful details about her captors or even about her rescuer beyond him wearing a full-face harlequin mask and no guild stones. I just finished with Bram and Yvette, and they’re clearly just pawns who know nothing. With this ridiculous lockdown, I can’t properly deal with Leo. I need to do something, and right now you’re my only option.” He does not sound happy to admit this. “We’re bound to the island until the perceived threat has receded, so we’re going to have to sneak off. I’ll plan our departure for after May Day, which will give us some time to prepare.” He paces the room, his gate matching the intensity of his voice. “The Beltane bonfire after the hoverjoust opening games will be the perfect distraction for me to steal the supplies we need, and we can leave the next morning while everyone is still too hungover from the festivities to take notice.” He stops his pacing to glare at me. “You will use the time between now and then to find out where Hypatia is being kept so that we can retrieve her. Are you sure you can do that?”

I nod, though I’m not at all sure. I’m still not even one hundred percent sure the Families have her, but that, at least, I can probably get Mom to look into, if nothing else.

He continues. “You’re also going to need training. You need to learn how to defend yourself from those who should be weaker than you. To at least be able to put up a fight, even if it’s just from me having a tantrum. You’ll train with me daily until you’re more useful than a frightened bird.”

“Me train with you for weeks? Sure, us spending time together won’t make anyone suspicious,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

He grins coldly. “No one has ever questioned me spending quality time with a pretty girl.”

“No way,” I retort. “I’m not pretending to be one of your sex bunnies.”

He makes a sound that might be a laugh. “Don’t be so sensitive. You think people will be suspicious if we spend time together, and I’m providing a perfectly adequate explanation.”

“I’m not the fling type.”

He rolls his eyes. “Fine. Would pretending it was something more serious make you feel better about your misplaced morals?”

I cough in surprise, and once I gain control of my vocal cords, I say, “You don’t really seem like a fan of monogamy.” There’s a bit too much squeak in my voice.

“I’m not.”

“It’s a terrible idea,” I say. “Everyone knows you hate me; it will just draw unnecessary attention.”