Kinza dropped her shirt and glared at Zakariah. “I have no idea how you know what my tattoo looks like, but I’ve never spoken to one of your people before.”
never “This does not prove that she was the one who contacted you, though,” Nazim said. “You say only one of you ever spoke to her?”
Zakariah nodded, eyes still glued to the spot on her shirt where the tattoo would be. It seemed to reinvigorate him and he spoke a little louder, so all could hear. “Yes, she contacted one of our men, a venari, three and a half years ago. She told him to go to Chicago and meet with a middle man of sorts. I assume she had contacted the venari because he was the only one of us that could leave.”
venari,venari “And this man he met with?” Nazim asked, crossing his big arms.
“A man from a line of Ummanu, w
