“I don’t like to share,” I say.
Malictus forces himself to keep his eyes on the papers in front of him. But he cannot hide his lust as his mind wanders with my words, and eventually he loses the battle. His gaze draws up to Iris’s chest, and the sickening scent of his excitement blooms as he continues to stare.
Her outfit choice makes more sense as I watch him drooling onto his desk, but the longer we sit here, the more I can’t help but wonder how she endures this every day.
“I think we’re done here,” I say, pulling Iris to her feet.
She does not question my decision. She will later, I’m certain, but not here.
Mr. Malictus, suddenly in a panic, rushes to stand.
“The Inquisition is not?—”
I cut him off.
“Seeing as how no request was filed with the Crescent council, Iris and I are here merely as a courtesy. If you have any more questions for me, or her, or any of the Crescent wolves, a formal request must be filed with the council as the treaty requires. We will happily revisit this conversation at that time. Until then…have a nice evening, Inquisitor.”
Gods, I sound like my mother.
Her bark is effective, however.
The inquisitor nods, shutting Iris’s file and passing us a terse smile.
“Very well, Mr. Cross. Ms. Ashbourne. Until next time.”
There is a tone in his voice that tells me he is certain there will be a next time, but I ignore it as I usher Iris from the room.
She keeps pace as I practically drag her from the building, no doubt used to it by now, but once we’re out of sight of the front steps, she turns on me.
“What’d you do that for?” she snaps. “He was crumbling. I had him.”
I shake my head.
“Crumbling? I don’t give a fuck if he was melting. That was disgusting. You couldn’t taste that?”
“Of course, I could. But who cares, I’m used to it.”
She says that as if it should make me feel better. As if the fact that she is their constant unwilling subject somehow makes it okay, but it doesn’t. It only makes it worse. It makes me want to hide her away. Somewhere, even I can’t find her. Maybe, somewhere, especially, I can’t find her.
“That’s not the point, Iris.”
“I thought the point was to get them off our ass,” she hisses.
“It is, but?—”
“But what? But you don’t like to share? Is that it?”
Her arms flail as her eyes roll, and I blink.
She’s moving too fast for me. Clearly, she’s angry with me, but I’m not sure why this time.
“What?” I blurt, sounding like her. “No, that’s not what I?—”
“When were you going to tell me, Elliot?”
“Tell you what?”
“About the curse. That you can’t…”
