11. Clash of Stone and Steel #2
Samhail looked at the woman on the couch.
Under other conditions, he would’ve wanted to fuck her.
The servant she’d been disguised as was pretty enough, but her true form was nothing short of exquisite.
Her wavy hair was long and thick and a beautiful shade of reddish blonde.
Her full lips were parted slightly in sleep, and long lashes covered eyes he was almost certain had been pale green.
She was taller than most women, and her extra inches were divided pleasingly between her legs and torso.
It was hard to tell the exact shape of her body since the servant’s dress she wore was rather shapeless and baggy, especially now that she’d shifted back into her true form.
Samhail couldn’t deny the chase had aroused him. It had likely aroused Surgeon and Serise as well. Such was the nature of the gargoyle libido, where fighting often led to fucking.
Samhail glanced at his brother and sister, and indeed, both were also looking at the woman with a hungry gleam in their eyes.
“Samhail?”
Samhail shook himself mentally and searched for whoever had just called his name. His eyes locked with Bressen’s.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Samhail asked.
“I asked if you’re up for an interrogation tonight,” the lord said.
“Interrogation?” Samhail repeated. The word didn’t register in his mind for a moment. Then it clicked into place what Bressen wanted, and his eyes darted to the woman on the couch.
“What kind of interrogation?” Cyra asked warily. “What are you and Samhail going to do?”
“We’re going to get answers out of her,” Bressen answered. “And we’re going to ensure she never has a chance to hurt you again.”
Far from being relieved, Cyra’s eyes widened in panic.
“You’re going to hurt her,” she said. She glanced at Samhail. “You’re going to have Samhail hurt her.”
Bressen didn’t say anything, but his face hardened.
“You can’t. You…” she trailed off, looking from Samhail to Bressen.
Bressen frowned at her. “Cyra, why are you concerned for her? She lied to you for weeks, pretended to be your lady’s maid, and the whole time she was only waiting to kill you.”
Bressen paused and his frown deepened. “Wait, how did she lie to you without you seeing it? Is that part of her masquing ability?”
Cyra considered this. “I don’t think she ever did lie to me,” Cyra said. “Not directly anyway. I thought her skin turned red briefly when we first met her and she said she was unpacking our trunks, but I don’t recall seeing it any other time.”
“What about when she told you her name was Leeda?” he asked. “If her name is Talyn, why didn’t she glow when she gave you her name?”
Cyra thought again before a look of understanding passed over her.
“Because she didn’t tell me her name was Leeda,” Cyra answered. “I’m almost positive she said I could call her Leeda. It was a good evasion. She must know I have truth seeing powers.”
“What about all the other times you spoke?” Bressen asked.
Cyra shrugged. “She avoided talking about herself. I was always trying to get her to open up, but she’d change the subject as soon as she could. The times I did get her to answer me, she was probably telling me at least a partial truth.”
“We both looked into her mind when we first hired her. How did we not see who she was?” Bressen asked.
“I might have an answer to that,” Axenus offered.
“I remember hearing somewhere that masques can also mask their minds to a small degree. They can put up a kind of mental fa?ade that reinforces who they claim to be if a mind wraith tries to read their thoughts. It’s a bit different than a mind shield, and the fa?ade will only stand up to a cursory examination, but I assume that’s all you did?
Just looked into her mind long enough to be sure her story held up? ”
Bressen and Cyra looked at each other and nodded.
“Had you delved into her mind more intensely,” Axenus went on, “you probably would’ve been able to see past the fa?ade, but you had no reason at the time to suspect she was anyone but who she claimed to be, so you didn’t.”
Bressen pushed off his desk and swore under his breath. “Samhail, take her down to a holding cell, please,” he said. He turned to Cyra. “Once we have her secured in the cell, you’ll need to release your hold on her mind so she can answer questions.”
“No,” Cyra said, her voice tinged with desperation as she held onto his arm. “Please, Bressen, not tonight. You’re too angry. You’ll push her too hard. You’ll…”
Cyra trailed off, and Bressen raised a brow at her. “I’ll hurt her?” he suggested. “Yes, I plan to hurt her. At least until she tells me everything I want to know.”
Cyra’s face fell, and she stepped up to Bressen again to press her body into his. She laid one hand on this chest while the other trailed gently down the side of his face.
“Cyra,” he said in gentle warning.
“Please, not tonight,” she said more softly. “I don’t want to lie in bed alone while you and Samhail are downstairs torturing this woman.”
Bressen closed his eyes in frustration, but Samhail knew her plea had broken his resolve.
“You can question her when I’m at the vineyard and won’t be around to hear…” Cyra trailed off, then swallowed. “She’ll be here tomorrow.”
Bressen sighed heavily. “Fine. The interrogation can wait a day.”
He leaned in to kiss Cyra’s temple before he turned to Samhail.
“Make sure she’s locked in good,” Bressen said to him.
Samhail nodded, strangely relieved he wouldn’t have to help Bressen torture the assassin tonight.
He’d never tortured a woman before, and the idea left him uneasy, which was ridiculous, especially given who this particular woman was.
Still, he’d been given enough of a reprieve to get used to the idea before tomorrow.
Samhail went to the couch and lifted the unconscious woman into his arms. The scent of lemon verbena hit his nose, and he remembered the first time he’d smelled it about a week ago when he’d caught Leeda – Talyn – in the hall on the fourth floor.
She’d told him she was looking for her lost necklace at the time, but that had been a lie.
He’d need to remember to find out tomorrow why she’d really been there.
The interrogation would actually be easier if Cyra was there to tell them if Talyn was lying or not, but Cyra was obviously having trouble reconciling that the lady’s maid she’d befriended – again – was a cold-blooded killer.
Cyra might want to kill and maybe even torture Magdalene, but she wasn’t ready to do that with this woman.
He couldn’t decide if having Axenus there would help or hurt their cause. The merman was perceptive and might be almost as good as having Cyra there, but Samhail wasn’t sure what Axenus’s feelings on torture and interrogation were. He’d have to ask Bressen later.
Until then, The Raptor of Avril would spend the next few hours in a cage with her wings clipped.