“After the fight. I thought Hassani’s people had returned them all, but . . .” I trailed off, frowning. Come to think of it, this didn’t look like one of mine. It was a small golden charm, of the type that looked like a tat on the body, but I couldn’t remember grabbing one depicting a Chinese character from the senate’s armory.
“Ones like it were found on the body of the thieves,” Louis-Cesare said. “All of them. As far as Hassani’s people can tell, it’s a key—it opens a warded door.”
“A warded door where?”
“We don’t know. But the consul has agreed to allow us to take this one.”
I didn’t ask “take it where.” I already knew. I’d seen a couple of the thieves up close, and with this . . .
Son of a bitch.
I started to get up again, but he pulled me back down. “The plane will wait.”
“For what?”
“For us. We need to talk.”
I turned around, because side eye wasn’t going to work for this. “About?”
Blue eyes met mine unflinchingly. “I think you know.”
I would have gotten out of the tub again, but he’d just follow me. That look said this was happening
, one way or the other, and I wasn’t a coward. I was a resentful little lump with greasy hair, however—until Louis-Cesare started shampooing it.
“Stop.” I caught his wrist.
“Stop what?”
“It’s not—I mean, I can do that.”
That won me another look. “But I am already doing it, you see?” He held up soapy hands.
I went back to resentful lump status, because it was either that or explain that I didn’t want him touching my ugly head. Somebody had removed Maha’s elegant solution, and hopefully put it somewhere safe, so it was just the bumpy skin up there.
Thanks to her, it was no longer red and there was actual epidermis covering the burn, but it wasn’t back to normal. Like everything lately. Like the whole world, which was suddenly uncomfortable and upsetting and strange.
“Hassani made a tape for you,” Louis-Cesare said.
I looked up, and had to blink to keep suds out of my eyes. “What?”
“A videotape. Well, actually, I think it is a computer file—”
“Why would he do that?”
“I believe he thought it was the best way to have a conversation. We can pause it when you become—” He saw my expression. “We can pause it when you like.”
Which, of course, basically ensured that I wouldn’t, which he very well knew. He wanted me to see the damned thing for some reason. I wanted to pull on some jeans, strap on a fuck ton of weapons, and go murder something.
But then he started it, and I was stuck.
A T.V. screen that I hadn’t noticed flickered to life on the opposite wall, showing Hassani wearing his serious face. He had on the same outfit as last night, so I assumed this had been made shortly after I left the party. I sighed.
Louis-Cesare pulled me in front of him and continued shampooing and then massaging my ugly head while I prepared to listen to a load of bull crap. He reached my neck, and the wire tight muscles there, and I leaned into it. But I did it resentfully.
“My dear Dory,” Hassani said, as if starting a letter. He paused. “I hope I may call you that after everything we have been through together this week. It feels as though we have known each other for far longer, does it not?”
“An eternity,” I muttered, and felt Louis-Cesare’s chest vibrate slightly behind me.