Orrin looked up from his hot water. “Ah, the vampire slayer who fights back-to-back with vampires.” He then rapidly blinked—I think he was upset with himself for talking, but I find fae really hard to read compared to other supernaturals.
“Yes,” I said. “It’s necessary for good teamwork.” I paused, considering if he’d heard of Considine/Ruin and I teaming up to defeat his snake monster. “And to minimize damage.”
Orrin stared at me, then took a long sip of his hot water. His gold hair was tidy, but he didn’t seem as sparkly and eye catching as usual.
I saw a flash of metal around his wrists—he was wearing magic-canceling cuffs as a precaution—and he was in the same clothes I’d arrested him in. It seemed that was by choice as there was a set of sweatpants and a t-shirt that had the logo of a werewolf-owned gym printed on the chest folded up and placed on the cot with his blankets.
He was getting fed: a tray that contained a plate with some crumbs and an empty glass of water balanced precariously on a boxy end table.
What’s with the hot water, though? That can’t be fun to drink.
I awkwardly stood—there were no other chairs, and I definitely wasn’t going to sit on his bed.
“I have a few questions about your job with Gisila,” I said.
Orrin folded his legs at the ankles and dropped his eyes to his hot water, ignoring me.
“What kind of boss was she?” I asked.
Orrin sipped his water.
I scratched my elbow, unbothered by his silence—with my people skills, Ilivedin perpetual awkwardness. But if I was hoping for even a scrap of info to show for this, I needed to be sneaky.
“Hmm, so you can’t talk about her? The geas must cover her, too,” I said. “That’s good to know.”
“I am under no obligation to answer your question, vampire-slayer-who-fights-with-vampires,” Orrin said, his voice full of derision. “You have nothing magical that can force me to speak—unless you intend to use physical means?”
Hmm. Just because he responded doesn’t mean his geas doesn’t cover Gisila…he might have spoken to remove doubt.
This is why I found fae difficult—you would be forever thinking in circles if you tried to get ahead of one. Fae couldn’t lie, but they could wordsmith and rule-monger, and they used that to their advantage.
“No,” I said. “That’s not really my style.”
Orrin finally looked at me again—probably because that was the only way he could properly show me the scorn in his eyes and the way it made his lip delicately curl in a sneer. “A vampire slayer…whose style isnotto use physical means?”
“Not to get answers, no,” I said.
Orrin narrowed his eyes. “Are you squeamish, then? Is that why the Curia Cloisters hired you, because you couldn’t make it as a true slayer?”
“No.” I tugged at my uniform, feeling uncomfortably bare—the one requirement Captain Reese had for my visiting was that I couldn’t carry any weapons into the room. It was understandable, but I didn’t like being without any means of defense. “I just don’t like using violence if no one is in danger.”
Orrin blinked once and then returned to his usual conduct of staring at his steaming cup of water, which was now only half full.
I fidgeted, then asked. “How long have you worked for Gisila?”
Orrin didn’t move.
“And how did you come to work for her?” I asked.
Nothing.
Maybe I’m trying to punch above my level. There’s no way I can uncover something when Sarge couldn’t get anything out of Orrin.
Disappointed with the possible dead end, I started to turn away.
When I reached for the doorknob and brushed it with my gloved fingers, Orrin finally stirred. “Why do you want to know?”
I paused, mentally reviewing my position in the room and his, just in case he was planning to attempt a sneak attack. “What do you mean?”
