He actually started laughing. “Dear God, I’ve never been shy.”
I eyed him carefully. “What do you do here at the Temple?” I ran my gaze over his face. “Your job, I mean?”
Instantly, his gaze hooded the barest bit. But he still grinned. “I work as an accountant.”
“Mmm.” I cocked my head. “And…you just became your Walker.” I smiled sweetly even as he stared back in a cool, even manner. I pointed my pencil absently in his direction. “Why don’t you think a bit if someone powerful, or disgruntled, left your accounting firm ten or more years ago while I continue.” It was more a demand, less a question.
My gaze altered to Mrs Damon. “How long has it been since you got that ring?” I pointed to her finger with the wedding band, which I hadn’t noticed on her Walker’s finger. The damn diamond was huge, sparkling to the point it almost blinded me as she tapped her fingers on the table.
Her eyes rounded. “Over a hundred and fifty years ago.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, my brows pinching together. “Do you take it off often?”
Mrs Damon sniffed, her voice clipped. “Never.” Her fingers stopped tapping. “Well, when I have it cleaned I do. Other than that, I never take it off.”
My own fingers tapped on the table as I wondered what the hell that was about, and I peered back to Mr Damon, twirling my pencil at my head. “While you’re thinking of those who quit your firm, try to think of someone who wouldn’t want that honking diamond on her Walker’s finger.”
Set with determination, I glanced to the One’s nose. He still sat completely silent, watching me, with those two fingers covering his mouth. “Your hair. When was the last time you wore it down to your shoulders?” I pointed at his head with my pencil. “And without the braids?”
He was silent for an overly extended amount of time, and his mom glanced at him, huffing when he still stayed quiet while he gazed at me. Mrs Damon peered directly at me, answering for him, “He had his hair like that about twelve years ago. He’s been cutting it shorter and shorter ever since.”
Attention on her, I responded, “Thank you.” I quickly jotted that down then flipped the pad of paper over. I was done asking my questions and on to the other set not my own. I read the first question the Kings and Elders had written. A bubble of laughter slowly escaped, and I quickly slapped a hand over my mouth, stopping it and shaking my head. I marked through the question aimed toward the One, courtesy Elder Zeller, not about to ask that.
Roselle asked, “Is there an issue?”
“Nope,” I mumbled behind my hand, reading the next question. I choked, coughing hard, and had to hold up a finger at the group. “If you’ll just give me a moment, I need to,” I scratched out the next offensive question, “re-read my notes here.” What the fuck were they thinking? “Um…” Another scratch through a question. “I think…” I choked again at the next question, courtesy King Collins. “Yep.” I placed the notepad face down on the table, my left palm firmly over it. “I’m done with my questions.”
And yeah, I received more than a few odd considerations.
I lifted my chin the barest bit and glanced to Mr Damon. “Any clue who the powerful spirit may be?”
“Actually, I do have an idea—”
“Wait,” the One interrupted, his voice still that lazy drawl as he actually deigned to speak. I slowly peered back to his nose, waiting, and saw him take his fingers from in front of his mouth. Although, he still sat languidly on his chair, and his thumbs started tapping on the arm of it. His question was slow in coming, frying my nerves further. “Ms Jules, why didn’t you ask me about the marking on my neck?”
I blinked very gradually. That was the second mistake I had made. Because I had already known he had gotten the tattoo less than five years ago. Yet the answer of his hair had been twelve. Quickly thinking on my feet, I murmured, “When I was at the temple, I also saw you in the halls one day. You didn’t have it then, so I already knew the rough time range.”
“How old are you, Ms Jules?” he asked casually.
“Twenty-three.”
“Then you were here between four and twelve years ago.” His thumbs were still tapping. “Which means you left without receiving my protection over you.”
And that had been mistake number three, but there was no turning back from it. “Yes.”