Free Hammer Down: Children of the Undying: Book 2 by Moira Rogers Page B

but I have an advantage. Do you know much about what happens when someone with summoner heritage mates with someone with demon blood?”
    “No.”
    A small, tight smile. “You get me. My intuition is…above average. Almost magical, in fact. And under normal circumstances, I could reassure the people here that you mean us no harm and that would be the end of it.”
    “But not right now, because there’s been trouble,” Devi surmised.
    “Trouble I’m not entirely removed from,” Hailey confirmed. “It’s easy to disregard the opinions of a highly pregnant woman who just lost the father of her child. Whether they think I have ulterior motives or that I’m crazy from grief or hormones, the end result is the same.”
    That left no quick fix for the suspicion they faced, and Devi had seen unchecked suspicion turn to persecution far too often. “Then it’s better for everyone if we get the hell out of here as soon as possible.”
    “I wish I didn’t agree, but there’s no point in pretending. Zel mentioned that you need fuel, but is there any other damage to your trucks that needs repair?”
    She and Juliet still had to get under the trucks and do a thorough inventory of their structural integrity and mechanisms. “So far, nothing that can’t be fixed with some sheet metal and stamp rivets. But I can’t know for sure yet.”
    “Then I’ll ask my assistant to bring our fuel supervisor over. No one gets near the equipment without his say-so, but if you want to make your own fuel, you can. We can provide someone to assist you.”
    “Thank you.” Maybe they’d have been better off paying through the nose than bartering with information but, at this point, she didn’t care. The deal was done, and what she needed to do was get them refueled and gone.
    And then I won’t have to think about Zel anymore.
     
    Bank vaults were good for holding weapons. In Zel’s opinion, they also made excellent prisons.
    Rochester had never had much need for a holding cell. On the rare occasions someone stirred up trouble, it was easier to toss them into a spare room to think about what they’d done. On the even rarer occasions where someone did something so terrible they needed long-term or high-security confinement, they were banished.
    Neither option would have done for their council spy, so Zel had cleared out one of the smaller vaults on the far side of the settlement and placed guards outside. The place had a musty, stale odor and was dusty as hell, but he wasn’t terribly concerned with comfort.
    A few days in a dark metal box should have made Elan Cyrus more willing to talk, but when Zel spun his chair around and sat down, he found his restrained adversary every bit as confrontational as he had been the day they’d caught him.
    The man stared at him.
    Zel had never been good at faking innocuous, but he did his best to at least avoid seeming outwardly hostile. “We’re both in a bit of a tight spot here.”
    Nothing.
    “Yeah, I’m really impressed with the silent treatment, but it’s not going to do you much good.”
    Cyrus frowned. “Nothing will. Not at this point.”
    “Not even if we send you back to your city?”
    “Do you know what a double agent is?” He smiled faintly. “A compromised operative poses a significant risk, Dominic Wetzel.”
    So much for the promise of leniency—for the man or their settlement. “So you’re ready to die?”
    His eyes were flat, black. “It’s my job.”
    “Do you want to die?”
    “I’m not one of your crazy feral warriors, Wetzel. But I’m not afraid of it.”
    Cyrus wasn’t going to bend, but Zel had better tools at his disposal than crude torture. He leaned back in his chair and raised his voice. “Lanna?”
    Lanna drifted into the room, and Zel fought the temptation to groan. She’d braided her hair while waiting outside, twisting it into twin pigtails that hung over her shoulders, and her expression was one of wide-eyed innocence. She looked like a teenager