They stuffed the prisoner in the back, between Cyprus and Milkavich. Trina's trembling, distraught persona was gone, replaced by a cold, angry woman who stared straight ahead, her lips pressed together. When they arrived at the Stronghold, Milkavich led her inside, Jilsenna on his heels.

Sadihra swung out of the vehicle and glanced at Cyprus. "Meet me for a drink," she muttered, then marched away as if she'd never spoken.

Lance arched an eyebrow. "Did I hear what I ...