“Libertine,” I corrected.
“Ah,” he drawled, smirking into his glass.
I didn’t like the way his lips curved up at the edges, or the knowing glint in his eye that meant he’d guessed why his behavior bothered me so much.
Mercifully, Casimir redirected the conversation. “I don’t think Bryce knows anything about the Keeper, but I did find out where her family keeps their jewels.”
“Did you even bother to glamour her, or were you too busy seducing her for information about that stupid necklace?”
His brows disappeared beneath his dark curls. “Might I remind you, it was your idea to get information by any means necessary.” He reached behind the counter for a bottle of whiskey.
“And?” I pressed. “Did you?”
Casimir paused mid-motion to study me with a penetrating look. “You do realize I don’t enjoy violating innocent people’s minds? I avoid it when I can help it.” Suddenly, he leaned in closer, and I drew in a sharp breath. “That girl would’ve told me anything I wanted to hear.”
I suppressed a shudder at the underlying threat in his tone.
“But yes, Farrow, I took advantage of the opportunity to rifle through her mind, for all the good it did.” Seeing my frown, he explained, “She doesn’t know anything about the Keeper’s Heir or the Order. Her family isn’t involved, at least, as far as she’s aware.”
I deflated slightly.
“You know,” he added, “you’re not the only person who can tell when someone’s lying to them.”
“And just so you know, not everyone is so easily won over by your charms,” I shot back.
Amusement flared in his eyes as he tossed back his drink.
“Ah, now I see. You’re jealous.” He appeared positively delighted by this revelation.
My mouth fell open. “I am not!” My cheeks flamed with heat. “You’re just so arrogant and conceited that you assume everyone’s in love with you.”
He shook his head and sighed. “It’s sad, really.”
“Excuse me?”
He clicked his tongue and continued, “It’s sad that tasting other people’s lies hasn’t made you better at telling them yourself.” And then he raised his glass to me before draining it.
“What—You—” I was so outraged that I was momentarily robbed of the power of speech. When at last I regained my composure, I said firmly, “I wasn’t lying. I do think you’re arrogant. And I’mnotjealous.”
His lips had already curved into a self-satisfied smile. “Perhaps,” he shrugged. “But you don’t find me entirely charmless.” Before I could argue, he went on, “I only mean that I understand most people. In all their predictable, tragic, messiness. It’s what makes them so human. For example, take Bryce Yu-Ri. She wears her desires on her sleeve. It’s obvious to any moderately observant bystander. Most people are like her, and unfortunately for them, it means they’re easily glamoured by someone like me.” He regarded me from beneath his dark lashes. “Even without the use of my powers, though I know how you love to accuse me of abusing them.”
I settled for shooting him a dirty look, still too irritated to trust myself to utter a civil response.
“You, on the other hand—” he grimaced “—are difficult to read. Even harder to predict.”
I blinked in surprise. “What are you talking about? You can hijack my mind and access my memories at your whim!”
“I don’t mean that you hide your emotions—quite the opposite,” he mused. “But your motivations—your reasons for doing things—are entirely foreign to me. And just because I can infiltrate your mind, doesn’t mean that I understand its inner workings. Let’s just say I find you…intriguing, to say the least.” He laughed quietly, the low sound of it snaking over my skin. “Maybe surprising is a better word for it.”
Our gazes collided over the bar, and the noise of the party faded into the background.
“What about me surprises you?” I asked. I’d intentionally omitted the other adjective he’d used to describe me. The idea that Casimir Wrayburn found me intriguing was, well… a bit terrifying.
“I find it astonishing that you were willing to risk your safety to protect the life of August Sinclair, despite the fact that he put you through hell?—”
I winced. “You don’t know August like I do. He isn’t all bad.” I thought back to the agonizing weeks that followed my father’s death, how August had proved to be one of the only people I could open up to. Despite August’s flaws, he was there for me when it mattered. Even after our relationship ended, he’d stopped Devereaux from poisoning me and even risked earning Devereaux’s wrath to warn me about Casimir.
Casimir’s voice was soft when he next spoke. “Why do you feel like it’s your job to save August? Do you feel like you… owe him, or something?”