Blood of the Sorceress
“The old priest had been right. She was good at deception. Very good.
“Trick you? What are you talking about, Demetrius?”
He watched her face, searched her blue, blue eyes for signs of her lies, but there were none that he could see. Only hurt.
“I realize that I look very different now,” she said softly. “But it’s not due to any trick. I didn’t plan it this way.”
He grunted, averting his eyes, because keeping them on her face made it difficult to remember what she was.
“You look the same, though,” she told him softly. “Exactly the same.” Her voice took on a slightly raspy quality, and he felt her eyes on his back as he paced away from her.
He headed into his bedroom to fetch a robe and pull it around him before returning to the hub of his circular suite. It made him nervous, being so close to the spiral stairs. Suppose Father Dom should come down from the observatory?
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