"ANSWER ME."
His voice was low. Controlled in the way a blade is controlled: held steady only because releasing it would end the conversation permanently.
Odette's head bounced off the stone. Her eyes watered. She blinked twice, rapidly, then did the last thing Asher expected.
She laughed.
Quiet at first. Then louder. Her head tipped back against the wall, hazel eyes glittering with tears that could have been pain or amusement or both, and she laughed with the abandon of a woman who had been caught and found the relief of it funnier than the consequence.
"You're hurting me, Asher."
"I'll do worse. What is this." He squeezed tighter. Between her fingers was a glass vial with a sharp tip meant for piercing.
"An herb," she said, still smiling. "For your bedroom performance. Or lack thereof. I thought I'd help."
"Bullshit."
