"Tell me," I said quietly, praying—hoping—that he did talk, "why were you following us, and who put you on to us."
It couldn't have been Handberry, because he was dead. But he'd been talking to someone prior to his exit from the club—someone who'd made him so mad, he'd stormed out. Maybe that someone was the next person up the tree of command—and the person behind the current tail.
"Call the cops if you think I did anything wrong, lady," he spat. "Otherwise get off me or I'll start screaming for help."
"Yeah, you do that," I said, and reached for the Aedh again. But this time, I controlled the surge of power, channeling its fury, containing its strength, focusing it on just my hand. Making it transparent, but not entirely smoke. There, and yet not.
His gaze widened. "What the hell—"
"You will tell me," I said softly, resting my hand against his chest, just above his heart. Only my fingers held no substance and slipped easily through his flesh, into his body, until they were positioned near his frantically beating heart. "Or I will wrap my fingers around your heart and squeeze every bit of life out of it."
Chapter Nine
I RE-FORMED JUST ENOUGH FLESH AROUND MY fingertips to carry out the threat. Though I only squeezed gently, because I really didn't want to kill him. And I could—so easily—if I wanted to. Uncle Quinn had made that abundantly clear when he'd shown me—somewhat reluctantly—how to do this.
The shifter screamed, and it was a high-pitched sound of pain. Sweat broke out across his forehead and fear filled his eyes. I let my fingers become smoke again.
"Tell me," I said, voice harsh.
"What the fuck are you?" he said, eyes wide as he stared at me in horror.
"I'm nothing you've ever come across before." I kept my voice abrasive, even though weariness was beginning to pulse through my body. I couldn't keep this up much longer. Going from barely ever using my Aedh skills to using them several times over several days had taken more from me than I'd imagined. And the lack of sleep wasn't helping, either.
"Look, I don't know much." His words tumbled over one another in his haste to get them out. "We got the job offer and took it. Nothing more, nothing less."
"So you're thugs for hire?"
"Not thugs," he said. "We're private investigators. Of sorts."