Nightmaster

“And so that’s the reason I’m here. That and your interest in the human perspective. But on what?”

He nodded at her glass of wine. “Drink.”

Reluctantly she picked up her goblet and sipped. The wine, as expected, was glorious.

“I don’t suppose you share your wine with your serfs as a rule,” she said, setting the glass down again.

“Not as a rule.” He stared intently into her eyes. “What crime did you commit to be sent here?”

She hesitated, as if it were a painful memory. “I didn’t pay my taxes.”

“Such a small thing,” he said.

“They’re finding it more and more difficult to gather criminals to send to you as serfs, and they don’t want to break the Treaty.”

Ares was silent for a while, perhaps brooding over her insolent behavior. But he didn’t chastise her. To the contrary, he appeared more intrigued than ever.

“And why weren’t you able to find a protector to clear you of these charges?” he asked. “You are a beautiful woman. Surely some powerful male would have been prepared to spare you exile in return for—”

“Is that what you think of human women?” she interrupted. “That we give ourselves to men so they’ll protect us from the consequences of our actions?”

“Trinity,” Ares said in a soft voice. “Do not speak to me in that manner again.”

All at once, without warning, he was master and she his slave, utterly subject to his will. She was reminded that, in spite of his mild manner now, taking liberties with him too quickly might result in her being punished, or even sent away.

Or perhaps it would arouse his sexual interest again. The kind that had gripped him—and her—just after the Claiming.

“I’m...I’m sorry, my lord,” she said meekly.

He picked up his glass and set it down again without tasting the contents. “I warned you before that you should consider the consequences of your behavior, Trinity. In Erebus, those consequences can be much worse than mere exile.”

“I know,” she said. “But if you’ll allow me to explain...”

When he waved his hand to grant her permission, she continued more carefully. “The women of the Enclave aren’t like that,” she said. “Most would never think of seeking that kind of protection from a man. All people, regardless of gender, are equal.”

“But it was not always so,” he said, relaxing again. “I remember. Among my kind—through all the ages—there has never been any significant distinction between male and female Opiri in terms of power or status. You’ve come far since the days when you were merely the extensions of your mates.”

“That’s right,” Trinity said. “But I don’t understand why you don’t already know this, my lord. Opiri faced plenty of female soldiers during the War.”

“Yes,” he said. “I was merely interested in your experiences.” He smiled slightly. “I can imagine you as a soldier.”

Trinity tried not to let him see her alarm. “I’m not brave enough for that.”

Ares leaned over the table and touched her cheek. “I think you are. But that is of no consequence now. That life is over.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think you’ll find it displeasing,” he said, stroking her face.

“I’m ready.”

He jerked his hand back. “You speak as though you must brace yourself for some unspeakable torment.”

Now that she had reached the crucial moment, Trinity lost her resolve to acquiesce so easily. “I owe you so much, my lord,” she murmured.

Ares bolted from his chair. “I don’t want your gratitude,” he said. “I want—”

He broke off, and Trinity held very still, aware that he had begun to lose his grip on the calm and rationality he seemed to value so highly. He strode to the other side of the bed and punched his finger on a keypad set in the wall. Wide shutters slid open, revealing another window.

“Come here,” he said.

Trinity rose and joined him. She looked out the window. The dome of the city curved below—smoky-gray rather than black from this angle—shielding Erebus from the sun.

Beyond the dome and the towers on the opposite side of the Citadel stretched the muted sky, the fields and the mountains, robbed of their color and vividness by the protective glass. Ares touched the keypad again, and suddenly they were looking directly into the interior of the city, thousands of roofs and open plazas and strange gardens under artificial lights. It was frighteningly beautiful.

“Nothing can touch you in this city,” he said. “No one can harm you. Not as long as you belong to me.” He turned to look at her. “And I intend to keep you, Trinity. Make no mistake.”

He pressed on the pad, closing the panel, and then returned to the table, slopping more wine into the glass.

“I will know everything about you,” he said, capturing her gaze. “Your mind, your soul, your body. You will never hold any secrets from me. But when you come to me, you will do it because you wish to.”

Trinity realized how vulnerable Ares had just made himself, vulnerable in a way that was almost human. She felt an uncertainty in him, bewilderment that he should treat any serf as he treated her...as if she mattered to him as a woman, not merely a slave. “I wish it now, my lord,” she whispered. And she did. More than was practical. Or sane.

“No,” he said, dropping into his chair. “You will sleep in the harem quarters tonight.”

It wasn’t going to work. Not now, not for Ares. For some reason he was holding himself back. She bowed and retreated.

“Trinity,” he said, stopping her as she moved to the door.

“Yes, my lord?”

“My name is Ares. You may use it when we are alone.”

“Thank you...Ares,” she said, bowing her head.

He made a sound very like a snort. “I told you before that such humility doesn’t suit you. Don’t play games with me. You can’t win.” He caressed the stem of his wineglass. “I do want to know your thoughts, Trinity. Your true and honest thoughts. I have had long experience with humanity. I walked the earth while most of my kind slept under it. But now I require a human of the Enclave to share her views and understanding of our people, and to explain her world to me.”

“Why?” she asked. “I will never give you information you could use against the Enclave, even if I’d ever had access to it.”

“I have no interest in acting against the Enclave. My life is as I wish it to be, and any disruption such as a new war would only disturb it.”

“An excellent reason for opposing the deaths of thousands of humans and Opiri.”

“Trinity—”

“Forgive me, my lord. I’m sorry for speaking out of turn.”

Suddenly he was on his feet again and striding toward her, and it was all she could do to hold her ground. He loomed over her, staring down at her like a hungry panther.