Chapter 79
Lirael
Silence stretched. I could hear my own heartbeat thundering in my ears, could feel the Moon's Tear glamour flickering with the intensity of my emotions. Stay calm. Stay fucking calm. You can't—
"Marcus," Sebastian said quietly, "take Ms. Hartfield to the detention cells as planned. And send word to my intelligence division—I want everything Genesis Foundation has on Project Moonchild or whatever they're calling their elven research. Every document, every file, every whisper."
"You can't just lock me up!" Victoria's voice rose in panic. "I gave you valuable information—"
"You gave me what I asked for. That doesn't excuse your earlier presumption." Sebastian's tone was ice. "Consider yourself fortunate I'm not doing worse."
Marcus hauled Victoria to her feet. She struggled, still protesting, but the bodyguard dragged her toward a side door I hadn't noticed. Their footsteps faded down what must have been a service corridor.
I should have left. Should have fled back to the ballroom, down the stairs, out of this fucking hotel before Sebastian emerged and somehow sensed me standing here, shaking with rage and terror and a dozen other emotions I couldn't name.
But my feet wouldn't move.
I'd spent my whole life being called monster, creature, thing. Even I had started to believe it—that I was some kind of aberration, a mistake of genetics that should never have existed.
"I know you're there."
Sebastian's voice cut through my spiral, and this time there was no mistaking it. He was talking to me. To whoever was standing outside his door, listening to him extract Victoria's secrets.
My hand dropped from my throat. Every instinct screamed run, but my legs wouldn't obey, feet rooted to the carpet. My pulse thundered so loud I was certain he could hear it through the door.
The glamour held. He can't know it's you. He thinks you're still in Ark City, thinks you're trapped by the lockdown. He couldn't possibly—
"You can keep standing there," Sebastian continued, voice carrying that particular quality of amusement mixed with menace that I'd learned to dread, "or you can come in and explain why Sophia Moonwhisper is so interested in my private interrogations."
Fuck.
My breath stopped. He knew. Somehow, despite the Moon's Tear, despite the perfect magical signature, despite everything—he knew someone was listening. And he'd correctly identified me as Sophia.
I had two choices. Run, and confirm I had something to hide. Or walk in there, maintain the Sophia persona, and pray to whatever gods might be listening that he couldn't tell the difference between one elf and another.
My hand found the door handle. Pushed it open.
Sebastian stood in the center of the VIP lounge, amber eyes fixed on the doorway with predatory focus. He'd removed his suit jacket, sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms corded with muscle and faint scars. The antique ring caught the light as he crossed his arms.
"Ms. Moonwhisper." His voice was silk over steel. "How unexpected. I didn't realize you made a habit of eavesdropping on private conversations."
I touched my finger to my temple, channeling every ounce of Sophia's distant, intellectual detachment even though my heart was trying to pound its way out of my chest. "Forgive the intrusion." My voice came out cool, faintly annoyed, exactly how Elwin had described Sophia speaking. "I heard screaming and thought someone might require assistance. Clearly I was mistaken."
"Clearly." Sebastian's eyes tracked over me, taking in every detail with an intensity that made my skin crawl. "Though I'm curious what brought you to this particular corridor. The ballroom is downstairs."
"I was looking for the ladies' room." The lie came easily, believable. "The ones near the ballroom had a queue."
"Mmm." He took a step closer, and I forced myself not to retreat. "Strange. I was under the impression you rarely attended social functions. Too busy with your research to bother with... what did your assistant call it? 'Tedious networking obligations.'"
Shit. He'd done his homework. Of course he had.
"Even scholars require funding," I said, allowing a hint of disdain to color my voice. "The Nightwatch has expressed interest in my findings. It seemed prudent to maintain the relationship."
Another step closer. He was studying my face now, head tilted slightly, and I could see the exact moment something shifted in his expression. Confusion flickered across his features—there and gone in an instant, but I'd caught it.
He'd expected something. Sensed something. And what he was seeing didn't match.
"You smell like winter roses," he said quietly, and there was a dangerous edge to the observation. "And old magic. Very old." His eyes narrowed. "How long have you been in Frosthaven, Ms. Moonwhisper?"
"I arrived this morning." Truth—or close enough. "Why do you ask?"
"No reason." But he was still watching me with that predatory intensity, like a wolf trying to decide if the deer in front of him was worth the chase. "Tell me, what's your opinion on Genesis Foundation's research methods?"
The shift in topic was deliberate, a test. I kept my expression neutral, academic. "I'm a scholar of ancient civilizations, not modern bioethics. Their methods are outside my area of expertise."
"But surely you have thoughts on how they acquire their... specimens."
Careful. So fucking careful.
"If you're asking whether I approve of kidnapping and experimentation on sentient beings, the answer is no." I let a hint of steel enter my voice. "But I'm also aware that powerful organizations rarely concern themselves with the approval of academics."
Something flickered in Sebastian's eyes—approval, maybe, or interest. "Pragmatic. I like that." He moved past me, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body, could smell leather and something darker, wilder. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, Ms. Moonwhisper. And do try to stay out of restricted areas. The Nightwatch takes security very seriously."
It was a dismissal. I should have taken it, should have walked away before he changed his mind or his instincts caught up with his reason. But something made me pause at the doorway, made me turn back.
"The woman you were questioning," I heard myself say. "Victoria Hartfield. She mentioned an elven specimen at Genesis. Do you know if it's still alive?"
Sebastian's expression was unreadable. "Why do you care?"
"Professional curiosity." I touched my finger to my temple again, the gesture automatic now. "If Genesis has a living elf in their custody, the scholarly implications are significant. We thought the lunar elves were extinct."
"Apparently not." He studied me for a long moment, and I felt the weight of that gaze like a physical thing. "If I learn anything concrete, I'll be sure to inform you. I'm sure you'd find the research... fascinating."
The way he said it—like he knew something I didn't, like he was playing a game I couldn't see the rules to—made my stomach drop. But I nodded, maintaining Sophia's cool composure, and walked away before my nerve broke entirely.
My hands didn't start shaking until I reached the stairwell.
He knows. He doesn't know what he knows, doesn't have proof, but some part of him suspects. The scent wasn't quite right, or the way I moved, or something—
I pressed my back against the cold wall, forcing air into my lungs. Forty-four hours left on the glamour. I had to find Sophia, had to get whatever information the Nightwatch was hiding about those northern ruins, and I had to get the hell out of Frosthaven before Sebastian's suspicions crystallized into certainty.