His hands were still taloned claws, and his body was still black and scaly, but his face was very human and very angry.

“Nita. I didn’t expect to see you so soon.” His smile was tight, and she couldn’t forget the teeth that lurked just beneath its facade. “You’ll forgive my appearance. Someone burned my skin off  last night, and I’m in a bit of a foul mood. I haven’t even been able to go home yet because I can’t look human enough.”

Nita crossed her arms. She felt a little bad, because it was her fault, but not really because he’d betrayed her to Henry. And no one betrayed Nita and got away unscathed.

“How long will it take before you look convincingly human?” she asked.

He sighed. “Of course that’s what you’re curious about.”

She shrugged.

“I’ll probably be able to get by later today, wearing a coat. But it will take a while for my skin to really grow back.”

Fascinating. She’d love to dissect a kelpie one day. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how unique and interesting it would be. A chemical analysis of the mucus-y substance that gave them their illusions would be illuminating—she wondered if it could be artificially replicated and used by regular people for disguises. She could make a killing on the black market with it. And it would certainly be a good way to change her face and regain the anonymity that video online had taken from her.

She hid her hands under the table, so no one would see them subconsciously reaching for a scalpel as her mind went through all the various dissections she wanted to perform on him.

Adair considered her for a moment. “Before we talk about why you’re here, I need to know something.”

Nita’s eyes narrowed, suspicious. “What do you need to know?”

His gaze was steady. “Do you regret any of your actions over the past few days?”

Nita opened her mouth to tell him no, to bluff her way through with brash confidence, the way she always did.

But the words died in her mouth. Because the truth was, she’d made mistakes. She’d miscalculated, and she’d fucked up. And while she acknowledged that to herself, while she took her mistakes and accepted them as experiences to learn from, she couldn’t quite bring herself to say the words aloud. Admitting her mistakes felt like showing weakness. She’d been okay admitting fault to Kovit, because she trusted him. Adair, she didn’t trust.

But she could see it in Adair’s eyes. Lying wouldn’t work here. He didn’t want her to bluff, to use brash confidence to fake competence. He wanted to know her thoughts, and if she didn’t admit the truth, she had a feeling she’d be shown the doorway before they could have their chat.