Wind Wielder

Chapter 23 - A Spymasters Secrets

Azriel felt like he was going to war as he entered Rhys' office with Rhys and Cassian.

Of course that wasn't true. Azriel had been to war. Twice. And it fucking sucked. Both times.

He had sat in these very chairs countless times, on countless occasions over the many centuries. But not once had he ever sat here with Rhys struggling to meet his eye without the corner of his lips twitching up, and not while Cassian was struggling to smother a shit eating grin.

Azriel could practically see the invisible line drawn between him, Rhys and Cassian. He was on defense, they were on offense. United against him momentarily for a single goal.

For an occupational interrogator, Azriel was beginning to feel an awful lot like the interogee.

"She's got nearly as good of a poker face as you Az," Cassian commented as he eased himself into one of the chairs by the whiskey decanter, opposite of Azriel's usual chair.

Azriel had to agree with Cassian, regrettably. Seeing Zara at dinner today, it was perhaps the first glimpse into what her Dawn Court life may have been. Indeed her face when Amren had grilled her and when Rhys had revealed that information, had been stone cold. Utterly expressionless, if not a little bored. The perfect mask. And when Rhys asked for her opinion on Winter and Day, even Azriel himself could hardly decipher what angle she was calculating in that brilliant mind of hers until she spoke it aloud.

It had unnerved him, if not impressed him. It had been like looking into a mirror. Perhaps why it unnerved him so.

"Her life depended on it for forty years, I should hope so," Azriel replied noncommittally, choosing to stay carefully impassive.

He had been a fool for tripping Zara that way up in the training arena that morning, for willingly holding her close to him, feeling the warmth of her body from beneath her clothes. The smooth curve of her waist in his palm. For as soon as her scent had entered his nostrils, every thought had left his brain. Instead replaced by useless thoughts of her beauty, her lips, and wondering if her eyes more closely resembled dangerous shards of emerald or jade.

Yes Azriel had been a fool for touching her, but he had been an outright moron for practically, disgustingly flirting with her infront of Cassian. No doubt Cassian had blabbed about it to Rhys before coming to dinner, the reason his brothers were clearly about to gang up on him.

For a level headed Spymaster, Azriel lost a concerning amount of cognitive processing whenever Zara came around.

That was the fucking problem. Her.

Not him.... Right?

"Have you found any more spies recently, Azriel?" Rhys asked.

At least Rhys would have some tact, Azriel thought to himself, and Rhys would get the business talk out of the way before he unleashed Cassian on him.

"Mostly just dead ones. Your wards have been holding up well so far. All the smart Autumn spies have held back, trying to poke around the wards. The stupider ones were either struck dead by them, or set off the alarm system so I could come round them up and bring them to the interrogation cells below. But no one has given me any real use yet. That group from weeks ago has still been the best yet." Azriel informed Rhys, speaking of the countless Autumn Court spies Beron had sent to infiltrate their Court.

Indeed, as they had told Zara at dinner, Beron had not sent them a single letter. Instead, he had sent spy after spy trying to breach the Night Court. All had fallen short so far. And those who didn't, swiftly found themselves winding up under Azriels blade Truth Teller. Though few spies had offered up any useful information other than that Beron had sent them. All grunts, and low level agents unfortunately.