instead,” he said easily, leaning against the table. “Give me a day and a night to satisfy the firestorm, then I’ll give your knife back. What do you say?”
“Sex doesn’t take that long.”
His grin was wicked. “Is that a challenge?”
Rania shook her head. “I want to finish this now.”
“You didn’t complete twelve assassinations overnight. What’s another day?”
“Maybe fifteen minutes,” she countered and he laughed.
“Not a chance. I’ve waited two hundred years for the firestorm. I intend to savor it.”
Savor it. Rania’s mouth went dry as she recalled how he’d savored her. “No,” she said flatly, guessing that if Hadrian made love to her for hours, she’d never be able to finish him off.
Maybe that was what he was counting on.
Rania folded her arms across her chest to keep from reaching out to touch him. “Besides, there’s probably a trick.”
He shook his head slowly, looking leonine and reliable. She instinctively wanted to trust him—and agree with him. “No trick. The firestorm is satisfied with sex, plain and simple, and the mate conceives the Pyr’s heir the first time they’re intimate.”
“What else?”
“Nothing else.”
“No deal.” She stretched out her hand for the knife.
Hadrian laughed. “So, you can kill me now? I don’t think so. You’ll have to pick another one.” His eyes twinkled. “Maybe I’ll start a collection of weapons you’ve been unable to use against me. We’ll have to decide what happens after we get through your entire collection.”
“You’re not that lucky,” she said. “No one is.”
“Did you get the bichuwa from a collector?”
“I was the collector.”
He tilted his head, studying her with a curiosity that seemed to echo her own. “What were you doing in Thanjavur?”
“What do you think?”
He held her gaze steadily for a long moment, then spoke softly. “Who did you kill there?”
“A djinn.” Rania frowned at the memory. “It took a while to stalk him.”
“Seeing that he could turn to a wisp of smoke.”
Rania shook her head. “This isn’t solving anything. You can give the knife to me or I can come back when you least expect me.”
“True enough, but this is a great opportunity for me to learn more about southeast Asian metallurgy.” Hadrian turned and walked away from her, as if she were no more dangerous than a mouse.
Where was the knife? She couldn’t see it anywhere.
“You can’t just take it!” she protested.
“Well, I’m not going to give it to you so you can kill me with it.”
That wasn’t an unreasonable argument. “But it’s mine.”
“And now it’s mine. The djinn probably thought it was his, too.”
Rania could have growled with frustration. She glared at him, but Hadrian just smiled again. “I like when your eyes flash like that. You look like you could take me out with your bare hands.”
“I’m tempted.”
“Go ahead and try,” he said, his voice low and his gaze hard. They stared at each other for a potent moment, then his gaze slid over her as surely as a touch.
“How about it?” he murmured.
She knew he was referring to his offer. “Why would you give me the bichuwa just for satisfying the firestorm? That makes no sense.”
“Because everyone deserves a last wish,” he said. “Because a son is the greatest legacy a Pyr can leave.”
“But you don’t know that I’ll be a good mother. You don’t know that I’ll raise your son the way you want.” She flung out a hand. “You don’t know anything about me!”
“Wrong,” Hadrian said with conviction. “I know what’s important. You’re my destined mate.”
“There’s no such thing as destiny,” she insisted. “And no such thing as romance. It’s my task to kill you, no more and no less. That’s the one thing you know about me and it’s hardly the reason you should choose me to have your son.”
He shook his head with conviction. “No. The firestorm chose you, and the firestorm is never wrong.” He approached her and that white glow brightened. “I know that you’ve been trapped by the Dark Queen and that you’re determined to free your brothers. That kind of commitment to the team and to family is something I live and breathe. I know we have that in common.”
“But...” Rania took a step back, feeling the firestorm turn her thoughts in a predictable direction as Hadrian moved steadily closer. He didn’t slow down or stop but kept taking one step after another, closing the distance between them. His eyes were very green and filled with intensity.
“I know that you think Maeve is going to keep her end of the bargain, which shows that