After a long, silent moment, the woman nodded. “I believe you,” she said, then glanced sidelong at one of her men. “Release them, bring some bread and tea. Time to demonstrate that we’re actually civilized.” She drew herself up straighter and looked Thom in the eye. “Lara Duchnes.”
“Thom Ambrose,” he said quietly, meeting her gaze. “But I already told you that.”
“You did,” she agreed. “Your father worked for the government.”
His blood ran cold. “How—”
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to,” Seamus said quietly, looking at Thom. They were words he’d heard far too often.
Maybe I don’t want to know the answers, but the question’s still out there.
Lara just smiled at him. “I know a lot of things. Probably more than I should.”
“Then why all the questions?” J.T. asked, his voice a soft rumble. “Why the damned games?”
“I had to know if you’d be truthful with me,” she said softly, staring at Thom again. “He was. You can’t fake that kind of sincerity, that kind of emotion. He convinced me.”
Good to know I’m good for something. Thom exhaled, letting an unbidden shiver come unhindered.
Seamus cleared his throat. “Where did your truthseeking gift come from, Miss Duchnes?”
One corner of her mouth quirked upward in a sly smirk. “What makes you think I have one?”
“Gut instinct,” Seamus said, his voice still gravelly, as if speaking had somehow become hard sometime between the hilltop and now. “Now match us truth for truth. Where did it come from?”
“I doubt you’d believe me if I said it was Queen Mab,” Lara said glibly, crossing her arms, her expression going blank.
“No,” Seamus said. “Not at all.”
“I’ll tell you, then, Taliesin that was,” she said, stepping close to where he sat. “Lady Nyx, mistress of the shadows, birthed my line. For what is light without the shadow to define it?” Her gaze flicked toward the others as she straightened slightly. “But worry not. I mean no harm to any of you. I can sense what you are and I know better.
“I’ll be damned if I don’t know better.”
