“Sure,” Mom finally said.
I stepped aside, and Considine slipped into my apartment. He set his hand on my shoulder then brushed it down my arm, and my traitorous instincts that were still trying to sort out Considine/Connor/Ruin didn’t kick in until after Considine sauntered into my tiny kitchen and stood in front of the laptop.
I joined him just in time to see Mom grasp the grip of her sword, but she kept her expression as blank as the masks we wore at night.
“Elder Maledictus.” Mom said.
Considine’s smile was gone, but he kept his body language relaxed when he nodded to her. “I go by Considine.” His voice was carefully neutral—neither warm, nor icy.
“I’m Amber O’Neil, Jade’s mother.”
“My pleasure,” Considine said.
I shifted to my standard stance—hands clasped behind my back, weight evenly distributed—but I peered up at Considine, trying to pinpoint his behavior.
He wanted to meet her. It makes sense he wouldn’t be arrogant or try to play power games…but I had assumed he’d be overly charming. It would match his over-the-top statements about fancying me. Instead, he’s acting…serious.
“I’d repeat some niceties, but that won’t do anything for anyone here,” Considine said. “So I’ll be frank. I was with Jade when Gisila uncovered her identity. This is definitely her doing.”
“You’re surprised?” Mom asked.
“That Gisila revealed Jade’s identity? No,” Considine said. “However, I am suspicious of the timing. I thought Gisila would hang onto this information to give herself an attack advantage at a time of her choosing. Blurting out Jade’s identity on her way out of town was certainly a way to get back at Jade, but it was a foolish use of vital information.”
“That’s what I assumed, too,” I said. “I figured she’d keep it to herself to make me nervous, and maybe even try to blackmail me. But maybe you staking a claim on me made her feel like she couldn’t?”
When facing off against Gisila, Considine had staked a claim on me. That wasn’t a formal thing—it had no relevance to me personally—as much as it was a way for the higher ups to mark out their individual people. Considine had declared me one of his camp, so if Gisila attacked me, she’d be attacking Considine.
Considine—as powerful as he was—would have no problem eviscerating the dragon shifter, which would make Gisila think twice before coming after me.
“Gisila ran scared from Magiford, and revealed Jade’s identity when it was something she could have taken advantage of herself,” Mom slowly said. “Perhaps she really is finished with Magiford?”
“Not likely—she still has that suit atLuxe Sejour,” Considine said. “I assume Jade told you of it?”
“She did,” Mom said. “Then perhaps Gisila is not very smart. That would be a bonus.”
“She has attempted to attack Tutu’s,” Considine said. “I don’t think anyone could argue she’s particularly intelligent.”
One end of my mom’s lips inched up in a ghost of a smile. “Indeed.”
I pressed my lips together, half listening to the conversation as I stewed over the outcome.
If random werewolves knew my identity, it was safe to assume my information had been widely circulated.
My mask was still, perhaps, useful in that even if supernaturals knew my name, they didn’t know what I looked like, but if I kept trying to hide, would that draw more trouble and attention to me?
If intimidation is what Gisila is after, continuing as I have is sure to make me paranoid. I’d rather be bold.
“I’m not going to wear my mask anymore,” I announced, breaking up Considine’s and Mom’s stilted conversation.
Considine pivoted so his body pointed at me. “I’m sorry, did you just say you wouldn’t be using your mask?” His voice sounded friendly—far friendlier than he’d been using with Mom. However, the tone was too clear, too conversational. He was angry.
He’s not going to be a fan of this idea.
I glanced at the screen to get a read on Mom.
She leaned forward, her hands still on her sword, her expression unreadable.
Also not a fan.
