of her eyes. Then she opened her mouth to scream.
Leena slid an arm behind the woman in a friendly embrace, except the small knife was in her hand. She pressed the blade against the woman’s spine.
“Do you feel that?” Leena asked. “I’m a temple healer, trained in the mysteries of flesh and bone. My knifework is swift and accurate, so I advise you to cooperate.”
That earned her a glare filled with venom.
“Just so we are entirely clear, if I cut right there, you will never walk again.” Leena’s voice was calm and sweet, as if handing out a tincture for a cough. “A bit higher, and you’re bedridden. Above that, and I won’t guarantee your ability to breathe.”
A chill coursed down Morran’s back and shoulders, lingering at every point Leena mentioned. Her face had drained of color, showing how much this display cost her. He was almost certain Leena was bluffing. Almost.
As the seconds passed, he studied the hard set of her jaw. A man could go far with a woman that determined at his back. The idea prowled through his mind.
The woman finally heaved a sigh of resignation. “What do you want from me?”
“It would be best to continue this conversation in private,” Morran said. “Do you live here?”
“My home is off-limits,” the woman all but snarled.
She was an earth fae, Morran guessed, probably one of the forest dwellers who shapeshifted into an animal. It would explain the territoriality.
Leena slid the strap of the woman’s bag from her shoulder before dropping it on the ground. “Kifi, check for keys.”
Immediately, the two cats scrabbled through the bag’s contents. A moment later, Kifi had a ring of keys between her paws. Morran scooped them up, nodding his thanks to the felines. “Shall we see if there is a door that matches?”
“Fine,” the woman said, snatching the keys from his hand. “Follow me.”
Since Leena was doing an excellent job with her knife, Morran let her take point. He gathered up the strewn contents of the bag and followed, the cats in his wake. The place looked respectable, if plain, and the layout was not unlike the multi-family dwellings in Tymeera.
They climbed two flights of stairs before going down a long corridor to a door marked with “301” in gold letters. It opened into a room with wooden floors and large windows. Two overstuffed couches flanked a low table covered with books and papers. A few pictures hung crooked, possibly a result of the tremor.
Once the door shut behind them, the woman jerked away from Leena. “Time to talk. Who are you?”
Unfazed, Leena shifted her grip on the knife. “My name is Leena. That’s Kifi, and that’s, um, Fang. Or Mo. Now it’s your turn.”
The woman’s brow furrowed. “I’m Anna. If you don’t know that, why jump me on the front stairs?”
“We owe you an explanation,” Morran replied. “One thing at a time.”
“And you are?” Anna prompted.
“Morran of Tymeera.”
“Ah.” Anna abruptly sat on one of the couches. Her expression cycled through disbelief, exhilaration, and fear. “The Phoenix Prince. You’re the weapon the Shades fear the most. And you’re in my apartment. Yay.”
Morran knew dry sarcasm when he heard it. “It is not my intention to put you in danger.”
Leena sat opposite Anna, her silks vibrant against the pale, nubby fabric. She fixed Anna with a distrustful glare.
The other woman flicked her gaze from Leena to Kifi. “If you are a healer, perhaps you should tend to your injured companion. There’s a first aid kit under the sink.”
A flash of guilt crossed Leena’s face. “My healing magic is not working as it should.”
“It takes a while to adapt to a different realm,” Anna said. “I feel it every time I cross the Shimmer.”
Leena gripped her knife harder. “I’m not so easily dismissed, especially when we have little time.”
She cast Morran a glance filled with questions, primarily about why they were there.
“I’ll watch our hostess,” Morran said.
To underscore his point, he unsheathed his own knife. Like Leena’s, it was a small blade meant to cut meat at dinner—so commonplace, Juradoc had allowed him to keep it. This said more about the Shade’s overconfidence than anything else. Any blade was deadly in the right hands.
“This won’t take long,” he added.
Nodding, Leena rose with a rustle of fabric, followed by the cats. She probably didn’t know what a first aid kit was any more than Morran did, but she’d figure it out.
He turned to Anna then, weighing his next move. He had much to say about Fionn