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The disgruntled comment made him want to laugh. Again. Not optimal considering his plans. Enjoying her wit would make it more difficult to execute her when the time came. An interesting tangle, the push-pull one he might’ve enjoyed another time, in another place, but he refused to allow her likability to stop him from achieving his goal.

He was on a mission.

She was nothing but a stepping stone on the way to victory.

But even as the thought occurred to him, Westvane wondered what would happen if he chose to leave her alive. He couldn’t deny she intrigued him. All indications pointed to the fact she didn’t fear him. She seemed set in her ways, more obstinate than angry. And yet, anger was definitely a part of her. He read it in her posture. He saw it in the stubborn way she faced him. He recognized it in humorless depths of her eyes.

She was different, unique — an anomaly, here and in Azlandia.

Just like him.

Nothing like Lyonesse and the Electi the queen commanded.

Taking a step back, he sat down on steps. “Your name?”

“Truly,” she said, focus still razor-sharp even though he’d backed off. She didn’t trust him. He didn’t blame her. “Yours?”

“Westvane,” he murmured, wondering how else to put her at ease. “Relax. Nothing to worry about, Door Master. We’re just talking.”

“Talking. Finally,” she grumbled, sounding set upon. “The Wendigo wouldn’t tell me anything. Also —”

“It talked to you?”

She sailed on without acknowledging his interruption. “I have no idea what’s going on. You keep calling me Door Master. The Wendigo did too, but you’ve got to know I’m no one special. I’m not that — it isn’t who I am.”

He stared at her, bewildered. “Not that?”

“No.”

“I can see the magic. It’s in your aura. In your eyes. All around you.”

“But that’s…” Taking a deep breath, she uncrossed her arms. As her hands dropped to her sides, she shook her head. “Impossible. You have the wrong girl.”

“You felt it, Truly. Deny it all you want, but the door opened at your command, freeing the Wendigo, ensuring my arrival.”

“I don’t understand any of this.”

“Come inside,” he said, looking over his shoulder at the front door. “And I’ll explain.”

“I’m safer out here.”

“No, you aren’t.” With a flick, he tossed her the rectangle she called a cellphone. He watched her catch it, then stood, and with long strides, approached. She jerked back. He moved with her, shadowing her, putting his strength and speed on display. “If I wanted to harm you, it wouldn’t matter where you stood. I am faster than you. I am stronger than you. Your magic is immature, not yet sufficient to protect you from me.”

“Terrific,” she said. “My night keeps getting better and better.”

Westvane bit down on a smile. Even in a fit of temper, she was funny. “I’ve given you my word. I won’t hurt you. You’re safe with me.”

“For the time being.”

He nodded. “For the time being.”

She sighed. “Shouldn’t you be out…”

“What?”

“Hunting that thing down?”

He gazed up at the brightening sky, gauging the time. “The Wendigo will wait.”