“He’s dead.” Which you know, considering you killed him. The words burned up her throat and singed her tongue. The rage, she could hardly hold it back.
Cool and calm, calm and cool, damn it.
His eyebrows, shaped like sleek raven’s wings, settled into a furrow. “Moncrief is dead? How?”
“You sent an orb, some kind of lightning thing, to kill him. Don’t play dumb with me.” The words boiled out. So much for cool and calm. “He said your name. I asked him who had done it, and on his dying breath, he said your name.” Now she’d accused him. He would have to act, defend…or kill her. She pulled the gun from her back and leveled it at him, because the latter option was most likely.
An odd expression flickered across his face. “Ruby, what are you doing?”
Losing her mind, that’s what. Her heart thudded roughly in the area of her diaphragm, which was weird because that’s not where it resided. She grabbed his phone and thumb-dialed her number with the same hand that held it. Her brief outgoing message played, then the beep. She shoved it toward him with her other hand. “Say your name and admit it. Admit you had him killed.”
He was eerily cool, the way she should have been. “I didn’t kill Moncrief.”
“He said you did.”
“I don’t think he said that, Ruby.” God, the way he said her name, slow and smooth, like thick honey. “You obviously saw an orb kill him. You were upset, scared. Like you are now.”
She pushed the gun closer. “I’m not scared. I’m pissed. I know how to use this. I hit the center of the target nine times out of ten.”
“Impressive. Are you shaking like this while you’re aiming?” In a flash, he turned her around, shoved her arm aside, and tightened his grip on her wrist. His arms encircled her, his bare skin brushing against her arms.
A sharp click, then another, and the magazine dropped to the floor. “Is there a round in the chamber, Ruby?” his voice rasped close to her ear. “I don’t want to hurt your wrist, but I will if you don’t answer me.”
“No round.”
He flicked the safety anyway. “Then I suggest you release the weapon, and we’ll continue this conversation in a more civilized fashion.”
The gun fell from her hand, thudding on the floor. He took the phone from her other hand and disconnected, then set it on the desk. Finally, he released her. She moved as far from him as she could, rubbing her wrist.
He casually leaned back against his desk. “What exactly did Moncrief tell you about me?” Cyntag had a deliberate way of speaking, properly enunciating each word.
“I only know your name because Mon said it as he was dying.”
That seemed to surprise him. “You know nothing about me?”
You’re the Dragon Prince. Yeah, that would sound logical. Not that anything about this was logical. “I heard the message you left him. The police have it, by the way.” She glanced at her wrist, even though she wore no watch. “They’ll be here any time to question you.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, hopefully buying her bluff. “What did you tell them about the orb?”
“Everything.”
Worry tensed the corners of his mouth. “The regular police?”
“Of course, what other—oh, I’m sure they contacted the FBI, the ATF…if an agency has initials, they’re involved. They—”
“Describe the orb.” Still pretending he knew nothing about it, huh? “It set the house on fire?”
“Yes, and how might you know that?”
His nostrils flared. “I smell the smoke on you. Tell me what happened.”
She intended to give him a cursory description and had to hand it to him, like an investigator, he extracted every detail from her. He even looked angry when she talked about how it blocked her escape.
“You must have been terrified.” Was he gloating?
“I was too busy trying to save my ass to be terrified.”
“Nobody saw it but you, right?”
“No, it hid when they arrived and”—she glanced toward the door—“someone should be here by now. The investigator warned me not to come on my own, but I wanted to talk to you first. Tell me why you killed him. Off the record.”
He didn’t look as though he were buying her bluff one iota. He walked to the window, placing his hands on the glass and letting out a long, frustrated breath. Instantly, fog steamed around the perimeter of his palms and long fingers. “You did not tell the police about the orb because they would think you were crazy. You’re smarter than that.”
She inched toward the door.