she’d been sitting. “Not thirsty.” It was a lie, but she didn’t know enough yet to trust anything about this situation— not even a

sealed water bottle.

The man’s pale eyebrows raised just a touch. “It’s a name

brand,” he said. “I can promise you that it hasn’t been tampered

with.” He extended his hand toward her. “I’m Rhys Fallon. And

you must be Claire Danvers.”

“Are you in charge here?” Claire asked him, without shaking

the hand he was holding out. He lowered it to his side, not visibly offended.

“I suppose you could say that,” he said. “Although I like to

think that it’s more a collaboration, not a dictatorship.”

“If you’re in charge, you can take us to our friends, right now,”

she said.

“Your friends . . . ?”

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Rachel Caine

“Michael,” Eve said. “Oliver, Myrnin, Jesse. You know. The

ones you had shot and carried off.”

“Ah.” Rhys clasped his hands behind his back and, for the first

time, studied Eve. He spent a strangely long time at it, and there

was something about his body language that altered, just a little.

“Eve Rosser, is it not?”

“Eve Glass,” she said, and raised her chin to make the point more forcefully. He didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m delighted to meet someone who is so . . . legendary in Mor-

ganville. The descriptions I’ve heard don’t do you justice.” He

smiled at her, and that was a little too much wattage to direct at a married woman— an angry married woman at that. “Well, I am

very sorry, and I wish I could grant your request, but it isn’t possible just now. Michael and your other friends are being well looked after, and after they’re completely recovered, they’ll be placed into protective custody. You’ll be able to visit later, perhaps.”

“I want to see my husband, and there’s no later and there’s no

perhaps. I want to see him right the hell now. I don’t care who you think you are, you can’t—”

“Yes, I can,” he said, and Claire was struck by the fact that he

stated it without emphasis. It wasn’t a bluff; it wasn’t a boast. It was just . . . fact. It even had a tinge of regret to it. “I’m sorry, Miss Rosser—”

“Mrs. Glass!” Eve’s face was flushed now, and her fists clenched.

“— but you must accept that things are different here than when

you left town. I believe for the better, but you may not agree quite yet. I hope you will, in the end. I sincerely do.” He cleared his throat and glanced away for the first time, at Hannah Moses. “We’ll have

to discuss the . . . legitimacy of your marriage at a later time.”

“What?” Eve almost went for his throat, right there, but Han-9780451414274_Daylighters_TX.indd 16

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nah restrained her with a cautionary hand on her shoulder. “What