I mentioned an outrageous figure. He never flinched. He started to reach into the inside of his jacket. I said, "Don't."
"My credit card, Ms. Blake, nothing more." He took his hands out of his jacket and held them, fingers spread, so I could see them clearly.
"You can finish the paperwork and pay in the outer office. I've got other appointments."
He almost smiled. "Of course." He stood. I stood. Neither of us offered to shake hands. He hesitated at the door; I stopped a ways back, not following as closely as I normally do. Room to maneuver, you know.
"When can you do the job?"
"I'm booked solid this week. I might be able to squeeze you in next Wednesday. Maybe next Thursday."
"What happened to next Monday and Tuesday?" he asked.
I shrugged. "Booked up."
"You said, and I quote, 'I'm booked solid this week.' Then you mentioned next Wednesday."
I shrugged again. There was a time when I wasn't good at lying, even now I'm not great at it, but not for the same reasons. I felt my eyes going flat and empty, as I said, "I meant to say I was booked up for most of the next two weeks."
He stared at me, hard enough to make me want to squirm. I fought off the urge and just gave him blank, vaguely friendly eyes.
"Next Tuesday is the night of the full moon," he said in a quiet voice.
I blinked at him, fighting to keep the surprise off my face, and I think I succeeded, but I failed on my body language. My shoulders tensed, my hands flexed. Most people noticed your face, not the rest of you, but Harlan was a man who would notice. Damn it.
"So it's the full moon, yippee-skippy, what of it?" My voice was as matter-of-fact as I could make it.
He gave that small smile of his. "You're not very good at being coy, Ms. Blake."
"No, I'm not, but since I'm not being coy, that's not a problem."
"Ms. Blake," he said, voice almost cajoling, "please, do not insult my intelligence."
I thought about saying, but it's so easy,but didn't. First, it wasn't easy at all; second, I was a little nervous about where this line of questioning was going. But I was not going to help him by volunteering information. Say less, it irritates people.
"I haven't insulted your intelligence."
He made a frown that I think was as true as that small smile. The real Harlan peeking through. "Rumor says that you haven't worked on the night of the full moon for a few months now." He seemed very serious all of a sudden, not in a menacing way, almost as if I'd been impolite, forgotten my table manners, or something, and he was correcting me.
"Maybe I'm Wiccan. The full moon is a holy day for them you know. Or rather night."
"Are you Wiccan, Ms. Blake?"
It never took me long to grow tired of word games. "No, Mr. Harlan, I am not."
"Then why don't you work on the night of the full moon?" He was studying my face, searching it, as if for some reason the answer were more important than it should have been.
I knew what he wanted me to say. He wanted me to confess to being a shape-shifter of some kind. Trouble was I couldn't confess, because it wasn't true. I was the first human Nimir-Ra, leopard queen, of a wereleopard pard in their history. I'd inherited the leopards when I was forced to kill their old leader, to keep him from killing me. I was also Bolverk of the local werewolf pack. Bolverk was more than a bodyguard, less than an executioner. It was basically someone who did the things that the Ulfric either couldn't, or wouldn't do. Richard Zeeman was the local Ulfric. He'd been my off-again, on-again honey-bun for a couple of years. Right now, it was off, very off. His parting shot to me had been, "I don't want to love someone who is more at home with the monsters than I am." What do you say to that? What can you say? Damned if I know. They say love conquers everything. They lie.
As Nimir-Ra and Bolverk, I had people depending on me. I took the full moon off, so I'd be available. It was simple really, and nothing I was willing to share with Leo Harlan.
"I sometimes take personal days, Mr. Harlan. If they've coincided with the full moon, I assure you, it's coincidental."
"Rumor says you got cut up by a shifter a few months back, and now you're one of them." His voice was still quiet, but I was ready for this one. My face, my body, everything was calm, because he was wrong.
"I am not a shape-shifter, Mr. Harlan."
His eyes narrowed. "I don't believe you, Ms. Blake."