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She refilled his glass and set the bottle down. “Stop stalling, Slayer. Sun’s coming up.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“What?” Taking her first sip, Truly savored the burn as the Glenfiddich went down. “Slayer? Thought that was your title.”
“I’m an Assenta. A hunter,” he said, voice edged with something she couldn’t identify. Fury? Or was it sorrow? “Only those who wish to provoke my wrath call me that.”
Truly blinked. A moment passed before understanding struck. “She calls you that. It’s an insult.”
A muscle jumped along his jaw. He tipped his chin in the affirmative. “What do you know of Queen Lyonesse?”
“Nothing. I’m working blind here.” Tipping her glass, she frowned at the amber liquid. “Until a few hours ago, I’d never heard the name Door Master. Five hours ago, I was working a job, struggling to pay my rent. Now, I’m the owner of a house in an upscale neighborhood dealing with scary-ass monsters. You do the math.”
“Well then,” he murmured, shooting his second Scotch. “Guess I need to start at the beginning.”
Sipping her drink, Truly nodded. The beginning would be good. The beginning would be great. The beginning and end, along with everything in the middle, would be perfect. Exactly what she needed from him.
10
YOU’RE NOT ALONE ANYMORE
Examining the alcohol in his glass, Westvane resisted the urge to pinch himself. Sitting in the Door’s Master kitchen. Sharing a drink like friends sometimes did. The situation struck him as surreal. He didn’t know what to make of it. Nothing had prepared him for the invite. His encounter with Truly thus far qualified as strange. And yet, oddly enough, it was as though he’d been waiting for it to happen his entire life.
Raising the tumbler, he took another sip.
Truly raised her glass. As amber liquid crested the rim, he watched her take another drink. He paused, the lip of the tumbler against his mouth and sipped again. She did the same, mirroring his movements, making him wonder — was she aware she was doing it? Seemed a safe bet to say no, but… she’d done the same thing outside, mimicking each gesture, becoming his reflection.
The idea left him at a loss.
Other than Eastbrook, he’d never had a companion. Never engaged in friendly conversation or let anyone close. But sitting across the from Truly felt different. She didn’t act like an adversary. She treated him like he belonged. Her easy acceptance overwhelmed him. He’d never experienced anything like it. He didn’t know what to do with it. Block out the experience and ignore what she made him feel? Or take what she offered and enjoy the drink. No one had ever invited him to sit at their table. No one had ever thought enough of him to offer.
Truly hadn’t blinked an eye.
The gesture, her interest in him and what he knew, was genuine. No malice. No manipulation. She wasn’t shying away. Setting her elbows on the table, she leaned toward him, bridging the distance, getting closer, unconcerned by his violent nature.
Westvane frowned.
How was that possible?
What kind of game was she playing?
Everyone he encountered gave him a wide berth.Everyone, warranted or not, but not her. She wasn’t scared. Didn’t seem bothered. Settling back in his chair, he studied her some more, trying to unpack her like a puzzle. Fit the pieces together, and he’d understand.
Without looking away, he held her gaze and downed the third glass of what she called whiskey. Good stuff. Better than what he’d been allowed in Azlandia. Setting the tumbler down, he sent cut crystal spinning across the table. Light refracted. Color tumbled across the oak surface. Stopping the slide with a fingertip, Truly picked up the bottle, refilled his glass, then pushed the drink back in his direction.
He caught it before it slid off the edge. “You’re not afraid of me at all, are you?”
She paused mid-sip, then tipped her head back and shot the rest of her drink. As her hand dropped, she raised a brow. “That bother you?”
A question answered with another question. She’d been doing that from the beginning too. Not a bad strategy. Deflection was a useful skill to possess. An annoying one, when aimed in his direction. “Answer the question, princess.”
“Princess?”
With a sigh, he set his glass down with a thump. “You’re determined to be difficult, aren’t you?”
She smiled, the sparkle in her eyes arresting him as her magic spiked. Blue stardust spilled into the air, coating her with ethereal light. She didn’t notice. As unbelievable as it sounded, she had no idea who she was… or what she was capable of unleashing.
He scowled. “Are we really going to have an entire conversation with nothing but questions?”
