Maddox gestured at the leather chair opposite him. “Have a seat.” In the past, he’d always been glad for his own sake that there was no way to read the mind of a descendant— their mental shields moved like a labyrinth, protecting their thoughts and secrets. But right then, it was supremely irritating, because he had no way of plucking the truth out of Euan’s mind.
For a moment, the other male looked like he might refuse the invitation to sit. But then he crossed to the chair and sat with a sigh. “What is this about?”
“Something was brought to my attention today.” Maddox drummed his fingers on his desk, feigning a coolness he didn’t feel. “It seems that someone has gotten it into their heads that it is perfectly acceptable to disparage my anchor’s name and boycott her business.”
Euan went very still. “Let me guess,” he said, his tone dry. “You suspect me.”
“Do you have a reason why I shouldn’t?”
“Well, I am your cousin. Just because we don’t see eye to eye doesn’t mean I would make trouble for your anchor.” Euan’s brows drew together. “You would automatically suspect that members of your own lair are involved?”
“When one of those members has proven he’s very fond of slandering people’s names and has recently shown an unhealthy lack of self-preservation, yes.”
Euan’s eyes flickered. “If anyone from our lair is responsible, it’s Marcella. It’s her you should be talking to. I have nothing to do with whatever’s going on around your precious succubus. You’re pointing the finger at the wrong person.”
Maddox pursed his lips and then shrugged. “All right.”
Euan stared at him, his lips parted. “W-what?”
“Well, if you say it wasn’t you, it wasn’t you.”
“You … you believe me?”
“Should I doubt your word?”
“No, I just … well, it’s … You don’t trust me.”
“True,” allowed Maddox. “But I don’t trust most people. Your dinner will get cold if you don’t return to it.”
For a long moment, Euan watched him closely, clearly not so convinced that Maddox believed him. But then he teleported away.
His brow creased, Hector turned to Maddox, “You didn’t interrogate him, just lightly questioned him. Why?”
“If I was to leave a single mark on him, he’d run around the lair telling everyone I’d hurt him—one of his demons, a member of my family—merely because I suspected he might be trying to stain my anchor’s name.”
“And you think that’s why he might have done it, if he is guilty,” Carmen guessed. “So he could argue that we couldn’t trust you to put us before her.”
“If Euan’s behind it, yes, I think he’d hope for that,” Maddox confirmed. “But if I truly believed he was the culprit, I’d have interrogated him in any case. For me, the likeliest person to be at fault is the anchor of Raini’s sister.”
Carmen worried her lower lip. “Would you put Raini before our lair?”
“Would you put Hector before it?” Maddox shot back, already knowing the answer. “I’ve forsaken the anchor bond, Carmen. That’s as much as I’m willing to do.”
“I get it,’ she said. “And for what it’s worth, I wish you weren’t in a position where you have to forsake it.”
So did Maddox. Raini was right in what she’d said—the bond would always call to him. He’d never be free of that. His demon would never be free of it, which increased its anger with each day that passed. Honestly, Maddox sometimes worried that the entity might take the matter into its own hands. Because although it understood the need to protect their kind, it would never put others before its own wants.
He cut his gaze back to Hector. “Bring Marcella to me.”
She must have put up a minimal amount of fuss, because the sentinel returned with her mere moments after he’d left the office.
Marcella gave Maddox a sultry smile that held a mocking tint. “Changed your mind about wanting some private time with me? You only had to call and say so.”
He gestured to the chair that Euan had vacated. “Sit down.”
She glanced from one sentinel to the other, taking in their sober expressions, and her sass fell away. “What is this?”
Maddox tipped his chin toward the chair, not speaking until she’d finally sat down. “I have a question. If you were me, and you heard that someone was trying to boycott your anchor’s business and shit on their name, who would you suspect could be involved?”
Marcella’s eyes widened. “You believe I did that?”
Maddox flicked up a brow. “Is that what I said?”
Her mouth tightened. “We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you didn’t believe it was me.”
“Now that’s where you’re wrong, Marcella. If I wholeheartedly believed it was you who was playing these games with my anchor, you’d be in the cellar right now begging for mercy you’d never get.” Her pleas would mean nothing to him or his demon.