her, even kill her, but he couldn't stop her from speaking her mind. "Was there a whole legion of assassins waiting to kill my father? He was a harmless old man, well loved and respected by everyone."
"Not by the person who killed him, nor the client who hired me. That's two fairly serious enemies. A bit much for a man loved by everyone."
The dryness in his voice made her want to claw his eyes out. She crossed her arms across her breasts. She didn't have to listen to this. Her father was a good man. A great man! He had connections to the palace and all the best families. Now he was gone. Moistness crept into her eyes when she thought of how she wouldn't be able to attend his funeral. Who will attend mine?
"You killed Markus, too," she blurted.
"Your servant? I never touched him. He's still alive for all I know."
"Second Prefect Markus, one of the Sacred Brothers you murdered when you were abducting me. He was the betrothed of my dearest friend."
"Those tinmen were after you, not me. I saved your life by stopping them."
"Markus would never hurt me. He was my friend, and you killed him like he was nothing."
He regarded her for a long moment. Her stomach quavered. Was this it? Was he going to kill her now?
Instead, he asked, "What's your name?"
"What does that matter?"
"I'd like to know."
She straightened her posture. "I am Josephine Frenig, daughter of Artur Frenig, seventeenth earl of Highavon. Now, what of you? What are you called?"
"It makes no difference."
"What's fair for one is fair for both. Since you surely mean to murder me, it should be of no consequence to you."
"Caim."
"Caim." She had to choose her words carefully. "If you have any shred of decency, you will release me immediately, or at least allow me to write a letter to my father's friends."
"And if I intend to murder you?"
Josey's tongue dried up in her mouth, but she forced her lips to work. "Then be done with it, craven."
He shook his head. "I didn't take you just to kill you here."
"Then why? Why did you do it?"
He glanced at the wall over her head. He hesitated before saying, "It all comes back to your father. I didn't kill him, but someone wanted him dead. You must know someone who wished him ill, someone jealous of his success."
"No."
"A business partner? Some lady's husband?"
"No!" she shouted, and then sat still, frightened by her own anger. "He had no enemies. No lovers. Just me. He was a good and decent man."
"Decent men have plenty of enemies. I know." He started to pace back and forth past the table. "What was your father's position?"
"He was the exarch of Navarre when I was a girl. Afterward, he received the Golden Sword for his service and retired to a life of ease here in Othir. He was a great man. Infinitely better than a lowborn killer."
If the comment stung, he gave no indication. "Yes. That could be. It almost makes sense."
"What does?"
"Never mind. Was your father involved in any overseas ventures? Did he belong to a social club?"
Josey remembered the nightmare of the people in funny robes meeting in the basement of their house, but shunted the memory aside.
"I don't know. I don't think so. He spent most of his time in the study, writing letters to old friends. Nothing to do with me."
Caim didn't seem to be listening, so she stopped talking and studied him. Now that she had a better look at him, he didn't appear like she imagined a killer would. He was strong, but not overly big or brutish. In fact, his features were rather refined. He might have even been fetching if put into proper clothes. When he turned to look at her, she quickly glanced away, a shudder racing through her insides. He had a gaze like a corpse.
"No," he said to the air over her head.
"What?"
"Nothing."
The man was clearly deranged. What would he do next? One thing was sure. If she remained here much longer, she would never leave this dingy apartment alive. There was a window behind her, but it was shuttered and locked like the one in the bedroom. Josey glanced at the door across the room. It had to be the way out. There was a slide-lock holding it shut, but if she could distract him long enough to work the bolt ...
"Do you want more tea?" he asked.
"Yes. Have you anything to eat? I'm famished."
He nodded