Page 17 of Blind Date with a Werewolf
And now was the time for him to lie as a fae would lie. Telling the truth that carefully required attention to detail.
“I destroyed the one your tiger—Zoya?” He waited untilNura nodded. “I destroyed the one Zoya wore so she could deal with our enemies. Witchcrafted.”
The tiger had stiffened at his use of her name.
“I don’t know if there are more collars out there,” he told them. “The witch who made these is dead—as I told your queen when I spoke to her.”
“And the other collar?”
And this was where he needed the most care.
“Is the lioness’s,” Asil told her. He gestured to the big cat in the cage behind him.
The collar around the lioness’s neck was tawny in color, inset with amber cabochon stones that glowed subtly, half-hidden in the lioness’s fur. He didn’t wonder that Nura hadn’t noticed it before—the colors blended with the lioness’s tawny coat.
Nura’s chin went up. “It needs to be destroyed.”
“Yes,” agreed Asil silkily, because he did not take orders from tiger cubs. “I need to get the lioness safely to her new home. We will destroy the collar when it is no longer needed.”
“Itmustbe destroyed,” she said again.
Her agitation was strong enough to make the tiger roar. The lioness closed her eyes in apparent weariness.
“Nura,” her brother said, “he is the Moor. If he says it will be destroyed, it will be so.”
Wise child, thought Asil, pleased.
Nura stared at her brother, glanced down at Asil and away. She gave a shiver and rubbed her face. Then she nodded. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just been a day.” She gifted Asil with a tight smile. “Finals week. I’m supposed to be writing a paper.” She looked down at the tiger and said in Urdu, “Come now. It is time to go.”
The females left, but the young man turned back to Asil. “What are you going to do with the lioness?” Evidently it was a rhetorical question, because he continued, “If you wish it, we can take care of her for you. We can do it without hurting her. Better than a bullet.”
Asil glanced at the lioness and had to acknowledge that she did look that bad. Her hip bones jutted out of her tawny hide, and her coat was rough with ill-health.
It was an offer well meant. Asil knew that. He still didn’t like it.
He carefully kept his wolf eyes in the shadow and said, “Thank you, but no. I have a retirement home for her.”
There was compassion on Hamza’s young face. “She does not have many days ahead of her. In all kindness—”
Asil came to his feet.
“No.” This time the wolf came out. Because if there was one thing in this whole benighted situation that he and his wolf agreed upon, it was the lioness’s fate.
Hamza hissed, nostrils flaring, and the human pupils of his eyes briefly changed shape as he took a quick step back. He controlled himself with visible effort, but his tiger was young—impulsive, but easily settled.
Asil envied that. His beast was far more difficult to master.
In a calmer tone Asil said, “The lioness is not your concern. But I thank you for your offer.”
Driven by the wind, the door banged into the wall of the barn, and Hamza flinched. Above them, the rafters creaked again.
“Grandmother”—Hamza cleared his throat and said, a little diffidently—“told me to tell you that there are four of her closest advisors who had access to information about Zoya’s family. One of them is missing.”
Asil gave him a faint smile. “Thank you for telling me.”
“She will be unhappy if someone else kills him.”
Asil nodded gravely. “I would not want her unhappy.”
