35 Noisy-le-Sec, Paris “So, you missing Uncle Sugar yet? Nostalgia sucks the big one, don’t it?” Caitlin’s voice cracked, and she smiled through split, swollen lips, with teeth stained cherry red by her own blood. But the look on Reynard’s face was totally worth it. The Frenchman did his best to hold his feelings in check, but she’d struck a nerve and his anguish spilled out in a slight downturn at the corners of his mouth, the merest pout of his lips, and a hollowing of the cheeks as he tilted his head back in an effort to disengage emotionally from his prisoner. He would not beat...
“Are you an assassin, Caitlin?” (Okay. Just go with it.) She indulged him. “I’m a soldier.” “You’re neither.” He smiled, dropping out of character, but staying with the quote. “You’re an errand girl sent by grocery clerks to collect a bill.” She smiled back at him, all bloody teeth and cold eyes, a feral creature that has learned the trick of imitating a human being. “Yeah. And you’ll pay in full.” “I don’t think so.” It was Reynard. He had changed into a fresh shirt and now stood behind Baumer, regarding her with restrained enmity. “These theatrics, they weary...