expected luxury,” he said. “I only objected to the lock on the door.”
Isis flushed again. “After you have rested sufficiently and feel ready, you will be eligible for a tour of the city. We have guides whose particular work is to show newcomers around Tanis.”
“I thought that was your chosen work,” he said. “Pretending to be human so that newcomers wouldn’t feel uneasy. Or is your real job to look for immigrants who might pose a threat to Tanis?”
“It is not,” she said. “This particular area of the city—the administrative ward, the plaza and the living quarters in the area—are my responsibility.”
“Your responsibility?”
“I’m responsible for the welfare of my people.”
“You’re only concerned for the people in this area.”
“No, but I represent them for the Nine.”
“Humans, from what I saw in the plaza.”
“There are some Opiri,” she said, her voice a little defensive. “They work in the offices.”
“And other areas of Tanis?” Daniel asked. “The former Opir quarters in the lower Citadel? The towers? Who’s responsible for those?”
She hesitated, sweeping her fall of black hair away from her face. “You asked about the other Elders,” she said slowly. “When we took Tartaros from the original Bloodlords and Bloodladies and freed the serfs, we divided the city into nine wards, one for each of us. There are three Opir wards covering the towers, one for the half-bloods and the remainder in the human sector.”
“Three Opir wards covering the towers,” Daniel said. “The human sector. A city divided.”
“Some Opiri do live among humans.”
“But there are no humans living in the towers.”
Isis shifted uncomfortably. “You have just entered Tanis. You have no right to judge us yet.”
“I can only judge by what you tell me. And you’ve been honest, Isis. Even when what you say doesn’t reflect well on this city.”
Isis glanced away. “If you have such grave doubts,” she said, “why not leave Tanis now?”
“I’m permitted to leave?”
“I can see to it that you are free to do so.” She sighed, and her face took on an expression of gentle forbearance and oddly impersonal warmth. “I do understand, despite what I may have said or implied.”
“Then you will be my guide.” When she didn’t answer, he moved closer to her...close enough to touch. “You’re afraid of me, Isis. You don’t have to be.”
“Why should I fear you?”
“You’re afraid you might want me again.”
“Because you are so irresistible?”
He laughed, concealing his bitterness. She swept away from him and strode toward the door.
“Someone will take you to your new quarters soon,” she said. “You will remain in the Immigrant Center for now, but there will be no locks.” She paused in the doorway. “Exploring without a guide is highly discouraged. I will send one later this morning.”
Daniel stood alone in the room for some time after she was gone. He didn’t like himself for poking and prodding at Isis, but at least now he was certain that there were others like her and Ishtar in Tanis. After centuries of living among ordinary Opiri, Ares would have met nine of his own kind.
Would he have been tempted to make a new life here, with Trinity?
No, Daniel thought, not without sending word back to Avalon. And to him.
Daniel spent the wee hours of the morning in his new quarters, sleeping in fits and starts, haunted by ugly dreams he couldn’t remember after the sun rose over Tanis.
But he remembered Isis. She was the first thing he thought of when he opened his eyes. He bathed and dressed, considering how he could get her to agree to show him the city in spite of last night’s firm rejection.
Of course, it would be easier with some other guide, someone who wouldn’t simultaneously attract him and remind him of the shame of his past. Easier, but not nearly as useful.
If he were more careful, more respectful of Isis—if he kept his physical and emotional distance—he might persuade her to show him more than the average guide might be permitted to do.
Because he already felt that there was something not quite right in this city. It was only gut instinct, but he had learned to trust that instinct long ago.
Isis mustn’t know about his doubts, of course. All he had to do was pretend to believe what she did, and she would give him all the help he wanted.
It was not Isis’s intention to go back to Daniel. Like all Opiri, she didn’t require sleep, so she had tried to distract herself with books and music and a long stroll through the gardens until dawn brought the realization that she couldn’t simply walk away from him.
There were still too many things she didn’t understand about him, and she so badly wanted to understand. He had an effect on her that she had never experienced before.
And too much remained unresolved: he had accused her of fearing him because she thought she might want him again. It was a ridiculous notion, and yet part of her was afraid. She had gone too far with him, and there was no undoing what had occurred between them.
Still, she could not allow herself to fear anything or anyone in Tanis, not if she was to play her part in the future she envisioned. Surely there could be no question of seduction now. Not on her part. And Daniel would have no reason to touch her again.
Daniel had been correct: she had made herself responsible for him, and she could not fulfill her promise if she put him into the hands of another.
So she dressed in a very simple white gown, casually adorned with a gold sash and a beaded pectoral necklace a human craftsman had made for her. She put on plain sandals and pulled her hair back, just as she would wear it on any occasion when there was work to be done. The unembroidered day coat, with its protective cowl, was the finishing touch.
Instead of summoning a private cab, she caught a shuttle with humans and Opiri on their way to jobs in the administrative offices. It was a pity that Daniel couldn’t see her then, among the people like any average citizen.
You have nothing to prove, she reminded herself. And nothing to regret.
When she reached the Immigrant Center, Daniel was pacing in the lobby, each movement imbued with a powerful grace, muscles sliding easily against each other in perfect harmony. He looked up as soon as she entered, and she saw as well as felt the change in him: his blue eyes lit as if a fire burned behind them, and there was a subtle shift in his body, as if he were shedding an invisible weight.
Isis felt her own body respond in spite of all her determination to hold herself aloof, warmth gathering between her thighs and her heart beating more quickly. She smiled at Daniel with the most neutral expression she could manage and approached him as cautiously as she might a lion in the wilderness.
“You changed your mind,” Daniel said, his voice warmer than she’d ever heard it.
“Yes. I realized that I was being unreasonable in refusing to guide you.”
“I’m glad,” Daniel said, bowing his head. The simple act confused and angered Isis, as if he were mocking her with his show of respect.
But he wasn’t mocking her. The cynicism she had expected seemed to have vanished, along with the hardness in his face and eyes.
Why