Rowan squints over his shoulder. “That’s… literally not possible.”
“Tell that to the itch,” Sean says, holding up a meaty forearm that looks like he’s been playing tic-tac-toe on it with his nails.
“Silence,” Villeneuve snaps, somehow managing to glower at them both on either side of me. “If you embarrass me here, therewillbe consequences.”
Sean gulps.
Rowan waits until Villeneuve’s back is turned to flip him off.
Vyse opens the door to the interrogation room, which is as hideously banal as the rest of this place. Inside, there’s a one-way mirror taking up most of the far wall. The glass is thick enough to muffle sound, but I can still see her.
Rebecca.
She looks like shit, and that’s not just me being petty.
Okay, maybe it’s a little bit me being petty.
But objectively speaking, the woman who used to swan around Kyle’s coven in designer robes and perfectly appliedmakeup now looks like she’s been sleeping in a dumpster. Her red hair is tangled and unwashed. Her skin is sallow. Dark circles ring her eyes like bruises.
Vyse wasn’t kidding about those “enhanced” methods of interrogation.
“Damn,” Sean mutters. “This place is like one of those crime shows.Law and Order: Magical Crimes Division.” He makes the shape of a gun with his hands and darts into the far corner. “Houston, we have a witness.”
“Wrong genre, dumbass,” Rowan says with a sigh.
Villeneuve looks like his blood pressure just spiked. Hopefully dragons don’t have to worry about that. He looks at me and asks, “Can you at least try to control them?”
“I could, but the most effective methods usually involve fewer clothes than would be considered professional in a place like this,” I say with a shrug. “Your call.”
He just sighs.
I walk over to the window to observe Rebecca at closer range. Magical cuffs bind her wrists to the table in front of her. They glow faintly with containment sigils I recognize from various textbooks. Heavy-duty shit you use when you’re not sure what someone’s capable of.
“She’s been like that since we brought her in,” Vyse says, watching Rebecca through the glass with interest. “Won’t eat. Won’t sleep. Just sits there and stares.”
“Guilt?” Rowan asks.
“Doubtful,” Vyse answers. “More likely shock. Her beloved leader abandoned her to face the consequences of his actions. That tends to leave a mark.”
I don’t feel sorry for her. Irefuseto feel sorry for her. This is the woman who helped Kyle gaslight me for years.
Fuck her.
But fuck Kyle even more.
With a rusty shovel.
“You’re sure about this?” Villeneuve’s voice is quiet. He’s moved to stand beside me, close enough that I can smell smoke and incense. “There’s no shame in changing your mind.”
“I’m sure.”
“If you feel uncomfortable at any point, we’ll intervene.” His hand settles on my shoulder. The touch is light, barely there, but I feel the weight of what he’s not saying.
I’ll know. Through the bond. If you need me. You don’t even have to say the word.
A low growl rumbles from Rowan’s direction.
Sean looks like he wishes his finger gun was real.
