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"You don't." I reached forward and plucked a slice of beef from the platter. "I don't have the jewels with me, so there is no way I can prove anything right now."
The beef was butter-tender, but it tasted as dry as sawdust. I swallowed with some difficulty, and reached for a glass of wine to wash the taste away.
"How very true. Unless, of course, you have a psychic at your disposal."
He clapped his hands a second time. The elevator doors slid open, revealing Dia and a guard. At least she hadn't lied about that. Which maybe meant she was playing this whole thing completely straight. Maybe it was just my suspicious nature suggesting otherwise.
She stopped in front of the table. Her stance was neither compliant or aggressive, but somewhere between the two. "You called for me?"
She wasn't looking at me, wasn't looking at anyone except Starr. Never turn your back on a tiger snake in mating season, my brother had once warned me. Obviously, someone had told Dia the same thing.
"I want you to read this woman." Starr's hand came down on my forearm. It was only a brief touch, but even so, his flesh burned mine, leaving red marks long after his fingers had gone.
Dia nodded and glanced at me. Despite her stance, her expression was serene, businesslike. "Hold out your hand."
Given I had little other choice, I obeyed. Her cool fingers wrapped around mine, and electricity leapt from her fingers to mine, tingling warmly across my skin. Something flickered in her unseeing eyes, and just for a moment, there was a tightening around her eyes and mouth. What that meant I had no idea, but I sure as hell planned to ask her later.
"I see much anger in this one." She hesitated. "She has already fought with several of the women. She will fight with others before her time here is over. Rebellion is part of her nature."
"A given, seeing she's here as an arena whore," Starr snapped. "Tell me who and what she is."
Tension ran through me. If his instincts were suggesting I was a fake, why wasn't he just getting rid of me? Doing this made no sense. But then, when did psychos ever play by the rules of the sane?
Dia's finger's briefly tightened against mine, as if in reassurance, then she said, "She is a wolf who has been rejected by kin. She has fought to survive, and will continue to fight through the many life changes that are on the horizon. Her path will not be easy."
"The who, Dia. Stop hedging."
Dia hesitated, and for a moment I was so sure she was going to give me up that my heart lodged somewhere in my throat and every muscle twitched with readiness to leap from the chair.
"She is who she says she is," Dia said softly. "A no-good lying thief. Lock up your valuables, Merle. She has already noted the gold watch resting on your side table."
Starr laughed. It was an uncomfortable sound that itched at my ears. "Then the thief has taste problems. That watch is gaudiness at its worse."
"But it would have a good street value." Dia dropped my hand and stepped back. With her touch gone, the tingling sensation of electricity quickly died. I wasn't sure whether to be happy or sorry about that. At least her touch offered warmth in a room that was so, so cold.
She rubbed her forehead wearily and looked at Starr. "Is that all?"
"For now. I will have my reading later. After we go for our little walk."
Though her expression didn't change, a wave of anger and hatred rolled across my skin, drowning my senses for too many seconds. Dia wasn't playing games - not with me, anyway. And she would do anything to get her child free and destroy this man.
She nodded and walked back to the door. Once she'd gone, Starr looked my way. "Perhaps we should have some entertainment while we eat?"
Though it was phrased as a question, he didn't wait for an answer, simply clapped his hands again. Talk about taking the role of a king to the extreme. The curtains on the door to our left swept open and two men entered. The first was a black giant, so tall he had to bend almost at the waist to get through the doorway. And he was big width-wise, too, with hands and feet the size of paddles, thighs thick enough to support a jetty, and shoulders that just seemed endless. Unfortunately, the old saying of big hands, big dick didn't apply here. My thumb would have been bigger than his appendage. Maybe that was the reason for all the muscles - maybe he got tired of the jokes.
The second man, though not small, almost seemed dwarfed by comparison. He was lean but muscular, a man who walked light and with understated power, like that of a predator on the hunt. His brown skin glowed like dark honey in the subdued lighting, and his expression was that of a man confident in his own strength, his own power... Shock rolled through me as he drew closer.
This wasn't a stranger. It was my brother.
My stomach sunk to a new low, and fear - sick fear - ran through me. Why was he here? Was it merely a coincidence, or did Starr suspect not only who I was, but who Rhoan was? If so, how? Who was this man in our lives that he suspected us instantly?
And if he did suspect us, why the hell was he stringing this out?
Did he want to see how far he could push it before we broke cover?
I tore my gaze away from Rhoan to look at Starr. The hints of self-satisfaction and anticipation in his expression suggested the answer to that particular question was yes. He intended to push and push and push until one of us broke and admitted the truth he suspected. Which meant, from here on in, we would be totally supervised.
Or maybe we had always been supervised. Maybe that was the only reason Moss had made his appearance in the forest in the first place.
