Reluctantly, she stretched her leg across the sateen sheets. Not silk, but not a bad substitute. At least he found money for the important things. He caught her ankle and held it in his hand as he stuffed the pillow beneath. The touch was less unpleasant than she’d hoped it would be. ‘There. Now, who’s after you?’

Her fingers worried the shirt’s hem. ‘I don’t even know your name.’

He sat still, staring at her like he was thinking. Too long, she thought. ‘Why don’t you want me to know your name?’

‘I’m … anathema.’

‘Quelle surprise.’ She stared back, incredulous. ‘You think I haven’t figured that out?’

‘I could be fringe.’

‘Nice try, but your eyes go silver and you can shift your face.’

‘Then how do you know I’m not nobility?’

‘Living here?’ She laughed at the absurdity of him thinking she might mistake him for anything else but anathema. At this point, finding anything funny was a gift. ‘Look around you. This isn’t the Grand Palace. You have no staff—’

‘I have Doc and Fi.’

‘Like I said, no staff. No blood source. You’re about as anathema as a vampire can get, I imagine.’

He shrugged. ‘So the freighter’s a tip-off. Big deal.’

‘Please. I’ve basically known since that night at the club.’

‘How?’

She lifted one shoulder. ‘A vamp who drinks animal blood smells different. Nobility never drink animal blood. Plus, you were very hungry that night, and nobility never get to that point. Also, you were alone. I figured you were either Nothos or anathema.’

‘How could you think I was Nothos?’

‘I’ve never seen one. Of course, when I dropped you in that alley like a used tissue—’

‘Lucky shot.’ A vein popped out on his forehead. ‘Plus I was weak.’

‘You still are.’

He growled softly. She put her hands up. ‘I just mean you don’t drink enough human blood and you don’t drink it from the vein. You’re not half the strength you could be.’

‘I do what I have to.’

‘Why?’ What was he hiding? No vampire abjured human blood without an exceptionally good reason. And there really were no good reasons when it came to vampires.

‘Don’t worry about it.’

She wouldn’t. Not really. It was his business. She understood the need to keep secrets. Besides, she’d know his soon enough. ‘Ready to tell me your name yet? I’m very willing to call you Fluffy if I have to. Maybe Rufus. Or how about Bunny?’ She tapped her chin. ‘Captain Bunny of the Ship of Fools. That has a nice ring to—’

‘Mal.’

She raised her brows. Mal could be short for only a few names she could think of.

‘ – achi. Malachi.’

Her brain searched every bit of vampire history she knew. The only Malachis she could come up with were nobility. If he really was such a low-level, unregistered anathema, what harm could he be? Maybe she should take a chance and trust him. Maybe she should tell him everything. He had taken care of her so far, in his own way. That was worth something, wasn’t it?

What did she have to lose, really? She picked at a loose thread on the T-shirt’s hem.

Besides her life.

No, she refused to think that way. She would play his game until it no longer suited her. And if she had to, she’d end it her way. With a blade to his neck or a stake through his heart.

Liar, liar, liar. Better a small lie than a truth that might send her running again. Getting her to talk was the most important thing. That was why he wanted to keep her here. Not because being near her brought him a foreign sense of serenity or because the voices didn’t like her or because she made him strive to be more than he was. No. She needed help.

And help was his middle name. Right after loner and miscreant. And killer. So kill her.

She tugged the T-shirt down again, but it refused to cover any farther than the tops of her thighs. Fine with him. He could look at her all day and not get tired. There was something mesmerizing about those bright metallic marks. Drinkable. Something that made her seem both fragile and indestructible. Drainable. An angel spun from gold.

Hades on a cracker, she made his brain mush. If it wasn’t her scent, it was something else. Her mouth was moving again. If he didn’t pay attention, she was going to think she was affecting him. Which she wasn’t. ‘What?’

‘I said I don’t know where to start.’

‘Oh.’ He forced himself to look into her eyes. ‘Start from the beginning.’

‘I found him the morning after the Century Ball.’ She paused. ‘You know the significance of that event?’

‘No.’

‘After comarré have been with their patrons for a hundred years, a chance comes for the patron to offer freedom to his comarré. The comarré almost always declines and stays with the patron, so much so that it’s become something of a foregone conclusion.’

She glanced away as if remembering. ‘I had planned to accept. It was going to be my way out.’ She caught his gaze again. ‘Instead, Algernon made a long, flowery speech about how he knew where I was happiest and therefore saw no reason to extend something that would insult my good graces.’ Her lip curled. ‘He presented me with this enormous, gaudy gold heart on a chain. Just what I needed. More gold on my body.’