The Walls of Jericho

Confrontation

There are a lot of things I expect to come out of Rebecca’s mouth when she swivels from the bookshelf and sees me standing here, staring into her secret hidey-hole.

‘How did you get in here?’

‘How did you find this place?’

‘Oh shit.’

Even: ‘What do you want?’

What I get is raked with those ice-cold eyes from head to toe. When her gaze comes back to my face, Rebecca says disgustedly, “You continue to meet my expectations.”

I should have seen that coming. It fits so perfectly with everything else I know about her.

Not that that’s much.

“I could say the same for you. I thought you were shopping for interview clothes for me,” I accuse.

Across from me, her eyes actually flash angry. With a huff, she pivots, setting the book in her hand down hard on the seat of the easy chair. Stomping over to the wall, she yanks a hanger with a zippered plastic garment bag off a hook I can’t see from my vantage. The outside of the bag has the logo and name of some high-end women’s clothing boutique emblazoned across it. “Taken care of,” she snaps, tossing it towards me so it lands in a heap on the floor. “Now, do you mind? I actually do have work to do.”

Ooh. She’s about to get herself popped in those ugly plum-colored lips of hers, I don’t care if she is bigger than me.

“Your work is for me, remember? Otherwise, I’ll tell Channing exactly what you’re up to and you can go right back in that underground hole where he was keeping you,” I spit furiously.

 “And I’ll turn right back around and tell him you recruited me.” She takes a swaggering step towards me, as if she’s confident in her position and Channing’s response. “I can’t imagine him liking his precious little mage involved in such deviousness, not to mention the utter betrayal that it’s also coming from his mate.”

“He knows I have personal reasons to hate the dragon and that I’m not waiting around for him or Avernus. Don’t think for one minute he’s confused about who he’s bedmates with,” I counter. “But you—you’ve already got a history of disobeying the Alpha and even trying to usurp him. In fact, I distinctly recall you saying you’re not wolf enough to do it yourself so you tried to recruit your brother, who’s one of his best friends.”

“Of course he’s one of Ferdi’s best friends! The Stark family has been cozying up to my family for eons trying to weasel their way into power!”

Oh, I’ve got her now. With a smug smile, I cross my arms over my chest and send a tiny little spark into the amygdala of her brain. Just one more little push should do it, to really stir her up.

“Yeah, about that. I may not be a wolf, but I do recognize they are exceptionally loyal. The only thing they put above their loyalty is the safety of the pack. Which makes that whole stupid sentiment of yours utter crap. If you’re going to be two-faced, Rebecca, then the least you can do is make one of them pretty.”

Her mouth falls open in stunned indignation. “Pretty!? I’m descended of the purest wolf lines in Avernus’ history! My female ancestors were wooed by the most powerful men on the planet! They were queens! Sought with tremendous dowries, the greatest treasures ever to exist! They were even consort of the dragon!”

Gotcha, b***h. “Consort of the dragon, were they?” One brow flicks up with my self-satisfied smirk.

She draws a hissing breath, rooted in place, her icy-blue eyes going wide at her massive slip-up.

“Why don’t you take a seat and we’ll talk some more?” I direct her to the easy chair with a jerk of my chin.

“Why don't you go somewhere else and play hide and go screw yourself?” she snaps, turning so I can’t see her face, clearly embarrassed and infuriated to have been outmaneuvered.

Better get used to it sweetheart. While you’ve been wooed by powerful men, I’ve been honing my skills at getting around other people. “I said, sit down.”

Rebecca’s back stiffens and she freezes, rooted to her spot. The next glance she throws at me is one of complete surprise. “How did you do that?” 

As if I’d give my secret away. “Have a seat. Let’s talk.”

Pulling out the hard chair at the desk, I plop down as she picks up the book on the easy chair and sinks into it. She’s still staring at me like I’ve grown a second head in the last thirty seconds or so. I wonder if it’s that I’ve outmaneuvered her that’s so upsetting, or the fact that someone ever challenged her. Not that I care. I need something from her, and I’m going to get it, even if I have to wring every secret she’s hiding out of her to do it.

“What do you want?” she asks, wary and defeated.

“Well, now that there are so many things to chat about, maybe it’s best if we start at the beginning,” I suggest conversationally. “With the bit about werewolf royal bloodlines and consorts to the dragon.”