Richelle Mead - Gameboard of the Gods

Justin sighed. “When are you going to get over that? She was your ex -girlfriend, and she really was helping me with my essay.”

“Yeah? What exactly was it on?”

Lucian’s receptionist suddenly opened the door and stepped aside so that Mae could enter. “Sorry,” Mae told Justin. “I didn’t realize you’d gone in.”

She’d become serious again, back to her professional mode, but he could still see a little of that light in her face. Lucian saw it too. He swiftly set down the scotch and strode over to her, his gallant smile turned all the way up.

“Senator,” she said, taking his hand. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“You can call me Lucian. We aren’t big on formalities around here.” Lucian kept holding her hand. “And I can call you…?”

“Mae.” She was smiling too, but thankfully, it was with amusement and not that earlier joy.

“ Prætorian Mae Koskinen,” said Justin.

He hoped that would make Lucian back off, but mostly it seemed to intrigue him even more.

“Are you?” Lucian looked her over like he was doing some official assessment of her physical strength, but Justin suspected he was actually checking out the way her chest looked under her clinging georgette blouse. “I can’t believe I’ve never seen you around here.”

Keep him away from her, said Magnus, more heatedly than Justin was used to.

I know you’ve still got high hopes for me and her, said Justin, but come on. He’s not her type.

Which type would that be? asked Horatio. The tall, good-looking, powerful, and charming type? He could interfere with your chances.

I have all of those things going for me, retorted Justin. Not that I want a chance.

He’s taller, said Horatio.

Surprisingly, Magnus actually sounded frustrated with both Justin and his fellow raven. It’s more than that! The goddess who wants her still hasn’t made an official claim. That makes Mae vulnerable to others.

Magnus had been fairly coherent since their return to the RUNA, so Justin supposed it had only been a matter of time before the raven returned to his old ways. No matter the setting or attire, “vulnerable” was a word Justin had never applied to Mae.

“She’s not stationed here,” said Justin. He paused dramatically. “She’s assigned to me.”

This was enough to make Lucian drag his eyes from Mae. He frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Well, you know how dangerous and harrowing my job is, what with the constant assaults on my life and unstable dissidents I face.”

Mae gave Justin an incredulous look.

“So, SCI decided to up my protection since I’m so important.” Feeling more in control again, Justin poured another glass of scotch. “Mae’s my bodyguard. We’re off together to the Nipponese grant. She goes with me everywhere. Everywhere .”

She picked up on the subtext and fixed him with a chilly look. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“He exaggerates about a lot of things to a lot of women,” said Lucian. He turned to Justin. “So what’s this favor?”

Putting Lucian in his place was an activity Justin never tired of, but the clock was ticking, and he did actually have serious business to discuss. “SCI’s been doing a lot of hiring. The number of servitors has shot up in the last six months.”

“Probably at the cost of some other worthy government program,” said Lucian. “Is this you being worried about your job again? That they might find someone better and cheaper?”

“No, I want to know what the increase is for. We’ve had things locked down for years. If anything, the numbers should be decreasing.”

Lucian decided to let the banter go as well. “You could look in your own backyard for that. Someone at SCI should know.”

“I’m sure someone does, but they aren’t telling me.” The best he’d received was a lot of meaningless “surplus budget” and “extra openings” mumbling—but nothing concrete. Cornelia had blown him off, and he didn’t have the access or good graces to badger anyone higher than her. “Someone in Internal Security—or more importantly, a senator with friends there—might be willing to tell a promising young senator who’s running for consul. It’d be a great way to curry favor.”

“I see.” Lucian’s lips quirked. “It’d be a weird request, though.”

Inspiration struck Justin. “Would it? You’ve got religious-freedom lobbyists sending you gifts. Inquiring about the servitor’s office would be very reasonable.”

“You think of everything, don’t you?” Lucian didn’t make it sound like a compliment. “Did you think of a clever reason for why I should do it for you?”

“Because we’re friends. And maybe you’ll need a good servitor on your side if those lobbyists turn on you. Or, hell, just do it for old times’ sake.”

“You mean my girlfriend?”

“Ex,” Justin reminded him.

“Fine. For old times’ sake.” Lucian turned to Mae, who had been watching the exchange with a mix of astonishment and fascination. “But now I have a favor to ask. I have a fund-raising party in a couple of weeks. I don’t suppose you’d want to go with me? If you can tear yourself away from Justin, that is.”

It apparently was a day of firsts with Mae. It had started with that radiant smile and had now moved on to her becoming flustered. That discomfiture only lasted a few moments, though. She rewarded Lucian with a polite and—Justin was certain—ever-so-slightly superior smile. That was castal upbringing. Debutantes were taught to eat men alive.

“That’s very flattering,” she said. “But I don’t think my commitments will allow it.”

Lucian was unfazed. “Well, check on them, and if they change, just let me know. I don’t plan on going with anyone else. They’d just be a disappointment now.”

Do something about this, snapped Magnus.

“Mae’s great at parties,” said Justin. He gave Lucian a pointed look. “She’s a Nordic patrician, though I’m sure you already noticed that.”

Lucian’s eyes said he understood what Justin wasn’t explicitly saying. No matter how high Lucian’s star was right now, no matter how much class tension had eased in recent years…any hint of romance with a patrician would be political suicide. Lucian’s fellow senators were the ones who cast the votes, and their patrician constituents would raise holy hell at the thought of a plebeian defiling some pure patrician woman—especially if her score came out.

Lucian was too noble to fully backpedal, though his pitch lightened. “Well, just let me know.”

Mae didn’t speak to Justin again until they were en route to the airport, free of flirting senators and distracting prætorians. “What,” she said, “was that all about?”

“It was me tapping inexplicable political connections to get answers that my department won’t give me.”

She shot him a sidelong glare. “You know what I mean. The presumption back there was off the charts.”

“I know,” he said, nodding solemnly. “Lucian doesn’t know his limits sometimes.”

“Not him! You, with all your ‘she goes with me everywhere’ insinuations.”

“It’s the truth, isn’t it? And how was that worse than his trying to trade my favor for a date with you? I defended your honor, you know. He was objectifying you.”

“He was just asking me out.” Mae’s face turned speculative. “He seems like a nice guy.”

“You aren’t…you aren’t seriously thinking about that, are you? And what happened to you not lowering yourself to associate with plebeians? Or do you make an exception for glamorous and powerful men?” The thought of her in Lucian’s arms, her face flushed with the afterglow, made Justin feel ill. Over and over, he told himself he couldn’t have her, but he didn’t want anyone else to either.