“You have been only two places since the incident last night,” Gaze said softly, as buzzing pain vibrated through her paralyzed body. “Your home, and that of Hugh Argent. Your sister is still there with him now. Tell me the truth, Ivy. Your sister has not been miraculously offered some new experimental treatment. Hugh is healing her. And I want you to tell me everything—everything—you know about him.”
He pushed his sunglasses back up to cover his eyes again, freeing her. Ivy had to breathe deeply for a moment, every nerve in her body still quivering as if she’d stuck her fingers in an electric socket.
“Go to hell,” she croaked.
Hugh was an asshole, but he was still her asshole. Ivy hadn’t a clue why Gaze was so interested in him, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to throw her mate to the basilisk.
Gaze raised his hands, and she couldn’t help flinching—but he just steepled his fingers, regarding her calmly through his shades. “You seem interestingly loyal to the paramedic, considering that you’d never, as far as I’m aware, met before yesterday. And I have never known Hugh Argent to let anyone into his house—and believe me, I have had my best professionals fail to secure an invite, no matter how they attempted to seduce him. So why you and your sister?”
“Guess he’s got a soft spot for hard-luck cases,” Ivy said, while her wyvern snarled at the idea of other women throwing themselves at Hugh. “It’s called compassion, asshole. Look it up in the dictionary some time.”
Gaze chuckled under his breath. “Oh dear, Ivy. It seems I know Hugh considerably better than you do. From what I have heard, he would never do anything merely out of pity. For a medical professional, he is remarkably acidic.”
“Maybe that’s why he likes me,” Ivy said, trying to ignore the part of her that wished that was true. “We’ve got something in common. Why do you care, anyway?”
“There are rumors about the paramedic. Rumors that interest me. And if he truly can heal your sister—and oh yes, Ivy, I know full well that she does not really have motor neuron disease—then I am very interested indeed. So interested that I am prepared to offer you a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” Ivy asked warily.
Gaze leaned back in his seat. “Find out what sort of shifter Hugh Argent is. In return, I will leave you alone. You and your sister.”
“That’s it?” Ivy squinted at him, suspecting some sort of trick. “You just want to know his animal? Why don’t you just have your goons follow him and wait until he shifts?”
“Because he never does. Believe me, I have spent considerable time and effort trying to unravel the mystery that is Hugh Argent. If you can do that, then you would have my gratitude. Which is something that you sorely need.”
Ivy chewed on her lip, every instinct screaming that this was too good to be true. She’d been fully prepared to give Gaze whatever he wanted…and what he wanted turned out to be such a tiny, trivial thing. There had to be some sort of catch.
“Are you trying to find out if he’s something defenseless?” she asked, eyes narrowing. “Because if you’re thinking of kidnapping him and forcing him to work for you, let me remind you that he’s already got a boss. I can tell you that Fire Commander Ash does not appreciate anyone messing with his people.”
Gaze’s mouth tightened. “Oh, I am fully aware that the paramedic is under the protection of the Phoenix. That inconvenient fact is all that is stopping me from making rather more direct inquiries, shall we say. I have been forced to take more subtle approaches. But you, it seems, may be the key to unlock his secrets at last.”
“You’re wrong,” Ivy said, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “Even if I wanted to, I can’t find out squat for you. He hates me. He told me to my face that he never wants to see me again.”
Gaze’s eyebrows rose. “I find that difficult to believe. Seeing as not only is he helping you with your sister, apparently he is on his way to this very location even as we speak.”
Ivy stared at him. “What?” she said blankly.
“With, and I quote,” Gaze’s head tilted to one side, as if he was communicating telepathically with someone, “‘a face like a pissing thunderstorm,’ according to the somewhat crude man I have on his tail. For someone who you claim has no interest in you, Ivy, the paramedic seems remarkably protective.”
Ivy was still che
wing that one over when Gaze pushed aside his espresso, rising. Chairs scraped as four other people—ranging from a hulking skinhead to a teen girl in black motorbike leathers—stood as well. Ivy tensed, readying herself to pull off her gloves, but they merely fell into position behind their boss, like bodyguards around a celebrity.
“The time is not yet right for Hugh Argent and myself to cross paths,” the basilisk shifter said, adjusting his sunglasses. “So I must take my leave. I look forward to your report with great anticipation. Oh, and Ivy?”
This time, Ivy was prepared. She jerked her eyes away, fixing them on Gaze’s shiny shoes to avoid his stare…but she couldn’t block out his voice.
“If you do not give me Hugh Argent’s secrets, then I will come after your sister.” All of Gaze’s fake friendliness fell away, his tone dropping to a cold, poisonous whisper. “No matter how far you run, how well you hide, I will find you. And then, I will turn you both into living statues. Unmoving, unbreathing, undying…but suffering. Trapped in agony. Forever.”
Gaze straightened. “A pleasure doing business with you,” he said, in a totally normal voice. “I expect results soon, Ivy. Very soon.”
Ivy sat frozen, as motionless as if he’d already carried out his threat, as Gaze waved his people to follow him out. Her wyvern screamed to be released, wanting nothing more than to obliterate Gaze, all his henchmen, and the entire building. She gripped the edge of the table hard, venom sweating into her gloves as she fought to control her furious animal.
The tall girl in the black leathers hesitated as she passed Ivy’s seat. Through the mist of her wyvern’s rage, Ivy dimly recognized her as one of the teens Hope had been chatting with at Gaze’s party.
The girl’s eyes flicked from Ivy to the other gang members’ retreating forms, and back again. “Is Hope okay?” she mumbled.
Ivy very nearly spat acid straight into her face. Swallowing hard, she got a grip on herself. “Piss off.”