Chapter 8: Twenty Questions: Round 2, Part 1

"You have an annoying habit of leaving the places I put you."

Valen was seated directly across from me in Ezra’s living room. He was dressed in an attire similar to last night; black jeans, a gray T-shirt, and a black, leather jacket. His hair, which had hung freely last night, was now tied back from his face. There was an air of exhaustion that clung to him today that hadn’t been present when we’d first met.

I examined him closely, trying to determine what was different since it wasn’t an obvious physical thing. There was no clear sign of fatigue in the sharp lines of his face. No darkness under his eyes nor dimmed pallor of his skin.

His eyes maybe?

No. The slate-gray orbs held the same gleaming intelligence as before. He wore the same unaffected gaze that let nothing in and gave nothing away.

I focused my attention on his aura. It remained a steady, pulsating glow around him. Was I just imagining things or was the rhythm off a bit?

“You’re unnaturally quiet, Zira,” Valen continued, interrupting my thoughts.

There was a warm fluttering in my stomach in response to hearing Valen say my name in that deep, quiet voice. There was a calmness to his voice that soothed ragged nerves I hadn’t even been aware of.

“Are you all right, mate?” I asked, still uncertain if I was imagining his weariness.

One dark blonde eyebrow rose at my question. Or was it because I had called him Mate?

“You seem tired,” I elaborated.

“Do I?” he asked calmly but didn't answer my question.

I nodded in response and pressed, “Are you tired? Does it have something to do with last night?”

“About you and my sister having a brawl in the middle of town?”

I wasn’t sure if he was deliberately trying to divert my questioning, but I didn’t take the bait.

“About what happened before. When you and Ezra left after getting that call.”

There was a nagging feeling at the back of my mind concerning that phone call that I hadn’t readily acknowledged.

Given Ezra’s unwillingness to talk about the events of last night, I didn’t expect Valen to be any more forthcoming, which meant I was going to have to investigate myself. I couldn’t honestly say I wouldn't enjoy that activity, but I needed to at least have the excuse of having asked nicely when I was caught.

“Ezra didn’t want to talk about it, despite his obvious penchant for gossip,” I added in the face of my mate’s continued gaze.

A wrinkle appeared between his brows. “Why exactly are you close enough to my second-in-command to know what he has a penchant for? And why are you in his house alone to begin with?”

I blinked in surprise at the change in trajectory, then sighed in frustration. “Have you ever tried to help a Pixie out of a trap?” I asked Valen.

“What?” He seemed as confused by my question as I had been by his earlier one.

Well good.

Pixies were most closely related to the Fae people. They often functioned as guides or helpers in Fae communities and —rumor would have it—spies in others. A role that suited them for their size and swiftness.

They were pretty harmless as far as anyone was concerned but their numbers had dwindled rapidly once other races had discovered the healing properties of their blood.

Asides from shifters, who could heal from most wounds within several hours, other races needed days—still far surpassing human healing capabilities. Apparently, Pixie blood could speed up that process considerably.

“A lot of people assume they’re sweet-natured because of their size and how innocent they look, but they have the foulest tempers out of any creature I’ve ever met. They spit and curse—very inventively I might add—and claw. Did you know they have claws? And they’re quite sharp. It doesn’t matter if you’re a friend, foe, or an innocent busybody trying to save their life. They’re equally aggressive to everyone when they’re in pain.”

“I’m going to assume there’s a point to this story,” Valen interrupted.

“By the time I had managed to get him out, my muscles ached, my arms were covered in scratches and I was sure I would need to meditate for at least a week to forget the verbal abuse. All in all, when the entire ordeal was done, I had to consider if I would ever do something like that again. It was the most exhausting thing I’d ever done.”

“Is that the end of your story?” Valen asked when I was done.

“Yes.”

“What was the point?”

“The point was… getting answers out you is worse than getting a stuck Pixie out of a trap! It’s exhausting. Three hours. I spent three hours trying to free that creature and I’ve been sitting here for less than ten minutes and I already want to bang my head against this table! I only asked if you were tired. It wasn’t a philosophical question, Valen. ‘Yes, Zira. No, Zira. None of your damn business, Zira.’ Any one of those answers would have been perfectly acceptable. Stoic silence, however attractive it may be, is not an acceptable response! Nor is another, completely unrelated question. Why are you asking me about Ezra when I asked you if were tired because of last night? Are you tired or not?”

Valen cleared his throat behind his hand but not before I caught a glance of what looked suspiciously like a smile. My eyes must really be playing tricks on me today.

“Are…are you angry right now?”

“No!” I denied hotly

Then I realized I had shouted. I had, in fact, shouted that entire reproach. I sighed and sat back in my chair.

I wasn’t angry. Frustrated? Yes. Annoyed. Yes. Angry? Hardly.

I couldn’t recall anyone in particular ever making me truly angry, but given that I had gone from sincerely concerned to ang—annoyed in less than a minute, it wasn’t a stretch to imagine my mate accomplishing the feat.

“No,” I repeated in a much calmer tone. “I’m not angry at all.”

Valen looked at me with what appeared to be mirth shining in his eyes. “Would ‘none of your damn business, Zira’ really be an acceptable answer?” he asked.

I considered his question. I shouldn’t mind him telling me to mind my business. I’d gotten that response one too many times when my curiosity had gotten the best of me. And most of the time, I’d reasonably accepted that it was in fact none of my business and went on my way, but I knew myself enough to know I wouldn’t like that response coming from Valen.

He was my mate.

Anything that was his business was my business and vice versa. Though I knew he didn't see it that way. Yet. I wouldn’t like that response, but I would accept it for now.

“It would,” I told him.

He seemed to consider that for a moment. “Why don’t we play the same game you and Ezra were playing earlier?”

The shock that pinged through me was warranted. “How did you know Ezra and I were playing a game?”

He’d waltzed in earlier with Lucas, taken one look at me and Ezra, and asked both men to leave us alone. Ezra had griped about being kicked out of his own house but had been dragged out by his brother. There hadn’t been any conversation about what we’d been doing, so how…?

“Have we started the game?” Valen asked.

“That depends. When I played with Ezra, there were questions I wasn’t allowed to ask. Does that rule apply to us?” I challenged.

“No.”

“Really?” I asked dubiously. “I can ask you any question I want, and you’ll answer honestly?”

“You can ask me any question you want, and I’ll answer. Whether I’m being honest or not…isn’t that for you to discern? I don’t have any guarantee your answers will be honest either.”

I bristled at the implication that I would deliberately lie when he asked me a direct question. I wasn’t morally against the concept of lying, but the entire thing was mentally exhausting. More exhausting than getting a Pixie unstuck, but less so than trying to get answers out of Valen. Lying was somewhere in the middle of those two things.

I wasn’t sure when else I would get this opportunity, so I was going to accept his offer no matter what ridiculous rules he implemented, but I couldn’t let him know that.

“Fine. Any other rules? Get them all out in the open now. You’re not allowed to make one up in the middle of the game.”

“No more rules. Maybe more of an amendment. You’ll ask all your questions in one go. Then me. I’m not a fan of back and forth.”

Surprise, surprise.

“Fine,” I agreed. “Can I go first?”

Valen nodded.

I began with my earlier question. “How did you know Ezra and I had been playing a game?”

“I asked him and he told me.”

“When? How? I was standing right there and there was no such conversation.”

“I asked him as soon as I walked through the door and saw you. As for the how…through our mind link.”

I frowned at this bit of information. I didn’t know much about mind links. I knew some shifters were able to communicate telepathically. Not so much mind-reading with actual words, but more so instinctually understanding what each other needed. It was an extremely rare, and useful power, but I’ve only ever heard of it happening when the shifters were in animal form.

“You share a mind link with Ezra even when you’re in human form? You can communicate with each other with actual words?”

Valen seemed surprised at my question. “You seem to know about shifters even though you aren’t one. Yes, I share a mind link with Ezra even when we’re in human form. Yes, we can communicate with actual words.”

That’s amazing.

“When did you form a mind link with Ezra? Why do you think it happened? Can you do it with me?”

Valens’s lips curved at one corner. “It happened when I became Alpha, so, seven years ago. I can’t say for sure why it happened. And no, I can’t…do it with you. We aren’t nearly close enough for that. Nor do I have any desire to do it, even if we were.”

I ignored the insult I was sure was veiled in that last statement.

“So you have to be particularly close to the person for it to work? How many other persons do you have mind links with?”

“That’s the theory I came up with. There isn’t much to go by though, given it’s not a common occurrence. As for your other question, that’s none of your damn business, Zira.”

I bit back an amused grin at his response, not nearly as put off as I had expected I’d be.

I was simply too excited at this new information. I wondered how I hadn’t noticed he had a mind link with Ezra in my dreams. He’d said it had happened when he’d become Alpha, and while it wasn’t anything someone could spot with their eyes, I was surprised I hadn’t even had an inkling of the new development.

I was even more surprised Valen was sharing such important information when he clearly didn’t trust me.

After his earlier statement about discerning lies, anyone else might assume he was lying given how dangerous this information could be in the wrong hands, but I knew he was telling the truth.

It was another one of those …knowing instances that I couldn’t explain with logic, but I would easily be able to discern if he was lying or not.

A fact I was certain he had no idea about, and would not be happy with if he did.

One moment, I was confident I understood my mate entirely—more so than anyone else. And the next minute, I couldn’t get what he was thinking.

I considered him curiously. “Why would you tell someone you believe to be an intruder such valuable information? Aren’t you afraid I’d use it against you?”

I knew he never said or did anything carelessly, so he must have had some reason for telling me. I just couldn't figure out what that reason was.

“I assumed you were a trespasser. A complete stranger shows up on my property uninvited with tall tales, so it was a logical assumption to make. Whether you actually are or not, I haven’t concluded yet.”

“That doesn’t answer the question. Aren’t you concerned I’ll tell someone else?” I pressed.

“No. I’m not.”

I could see he clearly wasn’t.

“Why?”

“Whether you’re a trespasser or my mate, or anything in between, if I believe you intend to use the information I give you or information you’ve gathered anywhere else, to harm me or my pack, I won’t let you live long enough to accomplish that.”