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“Unfortunately?” I repeat.It doesn’t sound like he wants to be a part of this.
“Yep. If you ask me, I say let the killer go free. I couldn’t give a damn about a xaphan official being murdered. In fact, I’m quite jealous someone has already done it to eight of the bastards already. Also, there haven’t been any killings committed lately in such brutal fashion like the ones in those pictures.”
“Besides, even if you guys were to, hypothetically, find the guy, you know the xaphan would still take the credit.”
“Yes!” he exclaims. “It’s a shame I don’t have a choice in aiding them. I suppose at the end of the day, it’s best to avoid doing anything that’ll raise their eyebrows.”
“Yeah,” I say uneasily. “You’re right.”
17
AZRON
Ican smell the stink of fear coming off Elia.
Fear and anxiety and…rage.
That’s interesting,I think to myself as I examine her. She keeps glancing over at my desk, and my mind wanders back to the file that she was going through.
Interesting.
Right now, she moves from foot to foot, and her anxiety is still obvious. It is obvious in the way she is biting down on her full lower lip. It is obvious in the way her brow is furrowed and in the way her hands are balled into fists.
What could possibly be making her act this way?
I don’t understand why Elia has changed so much, so quickly.
“Why don’t we go have dessert?” I ask her, and she blinks up at me, as if she had completely forgotten that I am standing right in front of her.
“Okay,” she murmurs. I place my hand on the small of her back, to guide her out of the room, but she jumps.
“Sorry,” I say and move away from her. Now, Elia has her arms crossed over her chest, and she shivers slightly.
What in the name of Xydra is wrong with her?
I very rarely invoke the names of any of our gods and goddesses. Demons very rarely say the names of the ones we’re supposed to worship.
But Elia has never acted more strange.
And I have no idea what to do with her.
I lead her to the kitchen of my apartment and pull out a box of cake that I picked up at a patisserie on the other side of Sarziroch.
Elia and I sit down at the small table that I usually eat breakfast at.
All I really want is to get close to Elia again. I want to be near her. I want to hold her in my arms. I want to inhale her scent without fear that she is going to push me away.
But that is starting to look impossible.
Why did she change so suddenly? What could have possibly happened to make her so jumpy, so suspicious, so strange?
“Tell me about yourself.” We have been sitting in silence for a few minutes. Elia hasn’t taken even a sliver of cake yet.
If I am not careful, she’ll leave before I can solidify what I feel for her.
She looks up at me, startled. Her eyes are wide. She pushes her thick dark hair away from her face, running her hands through it.
“I want to know who you are. What is your family like?” I try.
