And if you pretended to be ?

He turned automatically, but I grabbed him by the shoulder. "Sorry! I missed it. I meant—"

My eyes pinned him there and he swallowed his words, through gritted teeth.

"You think Tyrone has heard? He knows of Alma - who she is for me - I mean?" I hissed through my teeth, pressed.

"Why are you asking me these questions Estrange? Tell me? Do you suppose that I think like a killer? That I'm in his head, myself? I'm not like you Estrange! I do not know how you get to know, from where you draw your information – I do not have your gift! I have another one, you know very well. I am a Metamorphic, and that's it!"

My eyes widened and I understood all the possibilities that his tale offered me. Details passed before my wide open eyes and I began to smile - a happy roar went rolled out between my teeth.

"Of course! And even an excellent one!" I told him, delighted.

He chuckled and his eyes narrowed - there were only two slits.