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Her smile broadened, revealing a row of teeth that were far too straight, far too white, and strangely large for her mouth.
“Come. Sit with me.” She beckoned us closer, then gestured to the couch across from her. “Will you have some tea?”
“Uh—”
I was about to say sure, but Denny side-eyed me and gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head.
“I’m good. But thank you,” I said quickly. Message received.
Striga snapped her fingers twice, and a few seconds later, tea appeared anyway. A man dressed in all white placed it on the coffee table in front of Striga while Denny and I took our seats on the couch.
Silence followed, only broken by the pouring of tea, the clink of a silver teaspoon against porcelain, and the rattle of the cup against its saucer.
Mama Striga blew on her cup once, then took a long, slurping drink.
“Ah.” She sighed, sinking a little deeper into her armchair. “Now, then. Shall I guess why you’re here, or will you spoil the fun and simply tell me?” She raised an eyebrow to me, her eyes glimmering almost flirtatiously over her teacup. “I am not a bad guesser. I could impress you if you would like.”
“I’m sure you could,” I agreed, resisting the urge to rub the back of my neck.
We’d been told to keep our auras down, but the longer I sat in Mama Striga’s presence, the more I noticed her own aura radiating through the room. It was mild and distinctly un-wolfish, but still unsettling. I felt like there was a second Mama Striga behind me, her gaze boring into the back of my head.
“We’re honored that you were willing to meet with us.” I chose my words carefully, recalling Yusra’s rules. “We’re hoping you could tell us about your dealings with Melony Houghton.”
“Ah, yes, Melony Houghton,” Striga purred. “The woman who stole your sons.”
“We know she’s been here,” Denny added gruffly. “Don’t try to deny it.”
I winced. Fucking Denny! Hadn’t he listened to anything Yusra had said?
Luckily, if Striga found any offense in Denny’s words, she didn’t show it.
“I deny nothing.” She gave a tiny shrug. “Though, I cannot confirm anything, either, of course. My client list is very confidential. You, Dennis Kerry, are already aware of that.” Her eyes glimmered as she looked at him for a moment before turning back to me. “I’m very sorry, Mr. Miller, but I cannot help you.” Another shrug. “Is that all you wanted from me? I believe Yusra has already informed you of my policy on deposits.”
Denny and I exchanged a look.
Though it would have been nice to know that Denny had an existing acquaintance with Striga before we arrived here today, we weren’t entirely bereft of a game plan.
We’d expected a little push back, especially on our first approach.
It was time to change tactics.
Denny looked elated.
“I understand you have your clients’ privacy to consider,” I began.
“But see, this guy here”—Denny jerked his thumb in my direction—“he’s got a very pissed off federal agent on speed dial. She’s not the biggest fan of shifters at the moment.”
“No reason to be.” I shrugged, just like Striga had. “They keep hindering her investigation.”
“Very frustrating,” Denny said.
“Extremely,” I agreed. “She wouldn’t be happy to learn that Melony Houghton has been in and out of reputable place like this without being reported to the authorities.”
“Definitely not, what with Melony being wanted for child abduction and all.” Denny rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “Say, Xander?”
“What are you thinking, Denny?”
“I’m thinking that if a wanted felon on the run from the law was being harbored here—”
