“Wait.”Her finger itched on the trigger. Bonham, Collins’s particular protégé. Mr. Bonham admires your spirits; let him deal with them. “Throw away the gun,” she said. Her arm did not shake; her hand held steady.“You misunderstand,” he said. “I want to make a trade.”“I said throw it.”He tossed the pistol out of sight. He had gone white.He would go whiter. He would learn what it meant to deal with her spirits. “You are the traitor.” Of course he was. “Did you kill her?”He shook his head quickly. “She’s not dead.”“Liar,” she said flatly. “I have her ring.”“He wants you to think she is, maybe.” Spittle flew from the corners of his mouth. “I’ll make you a better trade. You stole the information, didn’t you? Granville never knew a thing; it was you all along. I’ll give you her whereabouts in return for the cipher.”His glance flicked to her pistol, and her muscles braced. These men are trained to move quickly. “Step backward. Put your hands over your head.”He put a foot down behind him onto the step.
