“Conclave purse strings are tight from what I hear.” Click. Click. Click. Thick fingers punished the keyboard. “The only way the conclave is footing the bill to fly you around the country for this case instead of hiring local talent is if you’re providing a service no one else can. At least not all in one package.”

“Classification is a rare talent.”

“That’s not the service I mean.”

The blood rushed from my face and left my lips as cold as the underbelly of a glacier. The backs of my knees hit the edge of the chair and buckled. I sat down hard and couldn’t get my feet under me even though I wanted to put as much distance as possible between us. “You mean Lori.”

His absence suddenly made a lot more sense. While I was napping, he must have been doing his research, plotting the second he understood the breadth of my talent. His eagerness to use me shouldn’t have stung. He had all but told me at breakfast he was tending what he saw as an asset. Lucky him, his short-term investment had paid off the second I walked into that interrogation room.

“We’re tracking a fae who’s murdering children.” He made it sound as if it was his case, like he was doing me a favor by explaining things. “This possibility must have crossed your mind.”

“No.” I gripped the armrests and sank my nails into the pleather. “I can honestly say the thought of using my dead sister as bait to catch a serial killer never crossed my mind. Not even once.”

I spent hours a day careful not to think about her, so no, even as freely as I offered my other services, I had never considered using Lori. Not once. Not ever. She was a private torment made public by necessity, and that was my mistake. “I’m not some menu you can order services from.” Rage trembled in my fingers. “Magistrate Vause—”

“Don’t try to defend her.” Gold devoured his irises until his eyes were shimmering pools of gilded rage. “I stood right beside her in that blacked-out room and watched the fucked-up show she orchestrated.” A snarl entered his voice. “What she did to you was cruel, and do you know how she felt when you walked into the room? Smug.” The laptop made a popping sound where his fingers dented the plastic. “She sprang it on you without warning because she knew you would balk, she knew you would never consider using that gift yourself, and she exploited your pain. You were suffering in front of an audience while she patted herself on the back at a job well done.”