Page 190 of Sins of the Heart
“What friend would that be?” she asked.
“The friend who assisted us in skinning our last
victim,” Pyotr hissed.
Her head jerked up. Her nostrils flared. She didn’t like
to think of that. Likely, she preferred he not mention it
at all. It was a dangerous thing they had done, a maniacal
chance they had taken. But it had been necessary.
Then she mastered her emotions, hid her thoughts.
“You refer to Marin.” Her expression shifted once
more, a gleam of conceit lighting her dark eyes. She was
the cat that swallowed the canary. Or so she believed.
“Marin is dead. Your information is dated, my dear.”
Pyotr said nothing for a moment, only rested his
hand on the back of her outrageous, ergonomic chair
and leaned close until mere inches separated them.
“I am not your dear,” he said softly. Did she think
him so inept as to lack key facts? Did she think he had
not orchestrated every step of Marin’s demise, his hand
on the strings of the marionettes rather than on the
knife? “And I am well aware that Frank Marin met an
unfortunate fate.”
No loss. He was actually quite pleased with the outcome. Given that the only one pounding on the door of
the Temple of Setnakht was one lonely underling from
the Daughters of Aset, he felt safe entertaining the possibility that Mr. Marin had revealed nothing of import
before his death. And Ms. Tam had added nothing fur-194
SINS OF THE HEART
ther during her visit several days past; if she had, she
would have been back by now, with reinforcements.
“To whom do you refer, then?” Djeserit stared at
him owlishly.
