Isahn didn’t answer, only eyed the curious woman. She was beautiful, but something about her appearance felt off, reaffirming his suspicions. Yes, people came in all shapes and sizes. But her skin was smooth and flawless, and her hair too perfectly coiffed. It didn’t bounce when she fidgeted. Her amber eyes were a touch too round and too far apart. She was ever so slightly unnatural.
Curiosity and a burst of stupidity got the better of Isahn and he sent out a negligible pulse of vapor to brush the guard’s hair. It passed straight through, unimpeded, until it met a mass of curls bound atop the woman’s head.Interesting.
“Come, come, little pet. If you speak with me now you won’t have to deal with a visit from the big mean guards who want to hurt you. What do you say about that?” She paced back and forth, speaking in a patronizingly sing-song voice.
Isahn sort of wished the sound mage would fuck off so he could hear Mira speak in those raspy tones... assuming it was her. Her voice, her scent, had been a balm during those confusing moments. Was this that disease of the mind they spoke about in the military? When a man falls for his captor because of time spent together? She’d hardly been around—not that he could prove anyway. It made no sense.
With the soft scent of rose coddling his senses, when she slapped him across the face again, it backfired and sent a shiver of pleasure to his groin.
He hummed.
Oh, what the fates?!
“What do you want?” she barked the question, clearly getting annoyed at his lack of response.
“You,” Isahn blurted.
She stiffened, though her expression remained neutral. “What?”
His lips twitched at the realization he was throwingheroff-kilter from his spot, strapped hand and foot to a chair. He could work with that.
“You. Come on over here, beautiful.” The woman before him was gorgeous and fierce, even though he was pretty sure she was showing him a mirage. It was a long shot, but he hoped being flirtatious would get her to crack, to givehimsome useful information, so he could decide what to do.
It didn’t work.
Her hand connected with his jaw, this time in a full, furious fist rather than an open-palm slap. Isahn sucked in a breath, fighting the tears welling in his eyes as his guard took a staggered step back and blinked down at him. He stared back, wishing he could break that mirage and see who lay beneath.
“Let’s go,” the woman barked at someone over his shoulder before sweeping around him the same way the big man had done before.
Georgeflungherselfintothe kitchen, snagged Hildy’s abandoned flask from the table, and popped the cork as she burst outside into the star-blanketed night. The cottage door closed behind George for a second time, and Hil’s palm landed on her shoulder.
“Are you all right? What happened? I thought you were going for less torture-y.”
“I don’t know,” George mumbled, swigging the Domossan whiskey. It burned down her throat, reminding her of all the bitter pills awaiting at the capital—everything she needed to fix.
She’d lost her temper. She never lost her temper.
Hildy offered, “He spoke to you, that’s progress.”
“He said nothing useful.” She took another sip and with her jaw tight, added, “And I was acting like my father—both times I’ve tried to question him. I can’t do this.”
“Maybe you acted like Gasparo on the surface. Butno,Georgie. I know you, and you’re nothing like him.”
She turned toward Hildy, grass squeaking beneath her feet. “I was testing the prisoner. He passed and I failed.”
“What do you mean?”
“He just took it, Hil. Even when I punched him, he just took it. He called mebeautiful,and I punched him in the fucking face! I think we’ve made a terrible mistake. I don’t know if this is the man I need.”
Hil cast her gaze up and to the side as her lips pulled down the slightest bit.
“Don’t say it.” She could hear the “I told you so” without Hildy using any words or her magic.
A cold, wet wind whipped in off the farmlands and George snuggled into herpalla, pulling the scarf tighter around her shoulders.
“What do you want to do?”
“Let’s go back inside.”
