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I shift to look in that direction but don’t see anyone yet.

“You’re gonna want to move, Patch,” I mutter absently as I stand up, my hand going to my dagger.

The white noise of the leader’s speech is cut off abruptly, and Ben’s heady vetiver scent wraps around me before his hands settle on my shoulders. I look up at him to see his chin is angled away from me, pointed towards where the black ribbon ends outside.

Asking him if it’s time to run is a little idiotic. If Ben felt it was time to go, he would have picked me up and hauled me off like a sack of potatoes.

A heavy sense of dread fills my stomach as I return my gaze to the doors with a frown. The dagger gets pulled and held loosely at my side. Patch cautiously moves away from us.

The doors swing open gently, and a tall, handsome man strides through as if he owns the place. His hair is long and white, falling freely down his back. His eyes are the dazzling blue of the deep ocean. He’s well-built and absolutely stunning in his formal suit and shiny shoes. Too bad my spark seems to think he’s scum.

It rears up inside me like a rattlesnake about to strike and holds in that position, ready and waiting. But, waiting for what?

His hands are clasped behind his back as he surveys the room with a mocking smile. As if he’s a teacher watching a classroom of toddlers suddenly freezing in panic.

He takes in the berserkers one at a time as they slowly stand and face him. Synchronized standing should be a sport, especially if alcohol is involved. They make it look smooth and impressive but also a tad menacing because none of them look happy. He flicks his gaze over Ben before landing on me, the only person left.

“Mender, ambassador to the Fae,” his voice is silky smooth as his smile widens in delight, and he takes several steps towards me.

I adjust my hold on the dagger. Ben steps to my side, leaving his left hand just under my nape in a loose hold.

“I assume this is Sir Benji, chosen knight of the mender?” He inclines his head politely towards Ben, who gives no response, polite or otherwise. He stands still on my right, body ready to spring.

Whatever is going on, Ben is hyped up about it too. What do he and the spark know that I don’t?

No one moves, and the stranger doesn’t acknowledge anyone else in the room. We’re stuck in this uncomfortable silence that makes me want to fidget. Especially since the guy’s eyes haven’t left mine, and his smile hasn’t faded despite the less-than-warm welcome he’s receiving.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” he fills the silence, and his voice has changed to me. He is less attractive and more like a snake oil salesman, smooth and sticky at the same time.

I just adapted to whatever magic he was using to sound seductive. He doesn’t look as good now, either. “My name is Drasorin, a manservant of the Delegates.”

“All of them? That seems rough.”

Damn you mouth, shut up! I refuse to say anything else as long as my brain-to-mouth filter cooperates.

“No, not all of them,” he chuckles lightly as he takes another step forward.

Ben’s chin dips down, and the ichor begins to spread across his features. Drasorin continues speaking as if he doesn’t notice Ben’s hostile stance. The guy either has a gigantic ego, or he’s an idiot.

“I come as an emissary to introduce myself to you and offer my services.”

Really? Wow, that sounds so awesome. Let me just jump right on that.

“No,” I keep my voice flat and calm.

“With only one guard, you leave yourself vulnerable,” he reasons and nods towards the berserkers who have stilled to watch this weird play act out in front of them.

“I was just thinking I should give Ben a raise. He does an excellent job all by himself. No complaints. Ten out of ten.”

“It’s a pleasure, baby,” Ben grins, exposing all his teeth without taking his eyes off Drasorin. I’m sure it is a pleasure for him. With all of my problems piling up, he’ll never have to worry about starving.

The idiot keeps taking small steps forward, proving my point as if we won’t notice. Even the berserkers closest to us have stepped back cautiously from Ben’s haunting voice.

“I am also proficient in the laws of this territory.”

A tiny throat clears from over the bar and draws everyone’s attention. The same robed faery that told us Ben was free sits at the bar with a thimble beside him, taking notes with his quill.

“That is quite unnecessary as I am the legal counsel for the ambassador. May I ask who requested your impromptu introduction?” He looks up from his little book to stare at Drasorin expectantly.