“So is one of you going to talk soon? If you’d like to sit in silence some more, at least let me grab the good liquor.”
“They were waiting for me.” Blair’s eyes alight on her as soon as she steps into the room. A smile cuts her face in two, eyes cold and empty while the smile brings out dimples in her cheeks. Zara wonders if it’s a practiced look; she barely stops from shivering in the wake of it.
“Ahhh, so we get somewhere finally. I had a feeling someone was holding us up.” She slips from the chaise, limbs stretching out even further, accentuating the black lines that decorate her arms in swirls that play tricks on Zara’s mind, bending and changing shape before her eyes. Like the sk’ars themselves are illusions.
Even without her heels, which have been abandoned on the floor, Blair is a fair few inches taller than Zara. Still, she extends a hand as if there’s no height difference between them, meeting Zara’s eyes. “My name is Blair.”
Her hand is pleasantly warm in Zara’s grasp.
“Zara. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Blair’s head tips to the side, eyes roving over Zara’s face. “The name isn’t familiar, but I feel as though I recognize your face. We haven’t met before?”
“First time. Maybe you’ve met my brother, Micah.”
“I’d remember a man with a face as pretty as yours.” She steps back and sits on the chaise, legs curling up beneath her and gesturing toward the open space. “Please have a seat.”
Walking forward, Zara plops down gracelessly on the couch, and Blair smiles truly now, a small thing, but it makes the dead look leave her eyes.
“So you’ve come to see me, and you’ve brought some dangerous looking friends. I hope this means it’s gonna be good.”
Zara blinks. She had brought the girls for backup in case things went south, and they still could, but she hadn’t really thought of them as dangerous before now, even with the knives she knows are tucked away beneath their clothes. As dangerous as they may be, she wonders still if they’re any match for this woman.