The Spirit Walker (BOOK ONE): The Ripple

Chapter Thirty Three: The Interrogation

Ness and I arrive after Arran and Calum have begun their questioning. Although, to be honest, it appears to be an interrogation more than anything else.

Tamhas is sitting, rigid and straight-backed, his hands curled into tight firsts. Calum sits opposite, his posture relaxed but his gaze intent, while Arran paces around the table- circling Tamhas like a predator.

"Good cop, bad cop," I murmur, under my breath, and Ness sucks her teeth.

"You say the weirdest shit," she grumbles back.

All three men turn to face us, and Calum rises from his chair, indicating for me to sit. I slide into the seat across from Tamhas, the man's unblinking gaze unnerving against my skin.

Calum is careful not to touch me, but his presence is distraction enough. Even with several feet of space between us, his warmth is impossible to ignore. The band between us tightens.

Tamhas glances between us, and his eyes widen in understanding. "I had thought you were already claimed," he observes.

A muscle in Calum's jaw ticks, and I swallow hard.

"You have done an admirable job concealing that you are not, between the pheromones, the jewelry, and the necklines of her clothing," he continues, pointing at me.

"Thank you," I say when it is clear that Calum intends to remain silent. He raises his eyebrows at me, and I give a slight, subtle shrug of one shoulder.

"Why have you not claimed her?" Tamhas asks, his black eyes riveted to me. "It is obvious that Rejection is not on the table."

"I am asking the questions here, Clanless," Calum hisses in a voice that is not Calum's.

Tamhas breathes in, deeply, as though tasting the air, and then his eyes grow wide. "You have not yet shifted."

Calum growls, low and deep in his throat, and I feel the prickle of danger in the air. Tamhas ignores him, his black eyes boring into mine.

"Not fully."

"Raelyn!" Calum snaps, but I continue to meet Tamhas' dark, unblinking, disconcerting gaze. His eyes are like a vortex, drawing me in.

"He already knows, Calum."

Calum grips my upper arm, his fingers digging into my flesh. "This is not how an interrogation works."

"Your mother is from the Anigilohi clan. In the old days, they were known as the Long Hairs or the Strangers. Which was your mother descended from?"

"The Strangers, My Lady."

"Prisoners of war, orphans, or outsiders who did not come from a clan," I murmur, continuing to stare into his unblinking gaze. "You have magic in you. But not the magic of the Aniwodi. Or the Kituwah. I don't know much, yet, but I can feel the difference."

Tamhas gives a small, slow smile. "The women of Clan Drummond practice a different sort of magic."

"I thought men were not supposed to be involved in the rituals of women."

"The Kituwah practices are sacred, but if sons have magic, mothers do not mind teaching them some of the ways of the Kongolese."

Kongolese. Congo- Africa... I do my best to remember all the geography that has been crammed down my throat since I arrived in this Ripple, and remember that Clan Drummond's lands encompass a small part of Louisiana. New Orleans.

"Voodoo?"

"Voudon," Tamhas corrects me, his gaze intense. "You are familiar with it?"

"Not really."