"Of course." She glanced at me. "Why else would I access the spell?"
She was, I thought uneasily, extremely chatty about her deeds. And that was never a good thing when it came to bad guys—or so Aunt Riley claimed—because it usually meant they had something devious planned. "Then my next question has to be, why?"
"Ah, that is far more complex."
"I have all night."
She smiled again—and this time there was nothing real or warm about it. "Perhaps. Perhaps not."
I resisted the urge to rub my arms and said, "Why did you raise the Maniae?"
"Because they killed my master."
It took a moment for her words to hit. Shit, she was one of Whitfield’s fledglings! One they’d obviously missed during the cull.
"Which master are we talking about?"
She gave me a long look. "You know which master. You are not stupid, young woman."
"Then we are talking about Robert Whitfield?"
"Of course! How many others has the council allowed to be drained and killed recently?"
"To be honest, who the fuck knows? It’s not like the council actually advertises their business."
"That’s true." She crossed her arms and studied the fire for a moment.
As the silence stretched on, I said, "Why wait so long for your revenge, then?"