Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 50
Jordan opened his mouth to object, then stopped himself.
She knew they were going the wrong way. It had never been
her intention to return to the manor. And somehow, she had
mesmerized him into following her. The last few hours were a
blur; and even has he realized this, he continued to follow her,
step by step.
He stopped walking. “What did you do to me?”
She turned, her face serious. "I need your service, Jordan
Mason. Last night, you were too wrapped up in your search to
listen to what I had to say. Now, in the light of morning,
perhaps we can talk like adults.”
Morning light provided Jordan his first good look at the
lady. Her oval face was beautiful and strong: her dark brows
and the lines around her mouth spoke authority, while her soft
skin and the delicate bones of her jaw opposed them with an
impression of fragility.
“I'll make a deal with you," she continued. He stood still,
glaring at her. May crossed her arms and sighed. "Look, I can
save your sister from Turcaret. All I have to do is send a
message to one of my people. She'll be safe."
Cautiously, Jordan stepped closer. "Why would you do
that?"
"In return for your coming with me. And if you don't,
then I don't send the message, my man doesn't find her, and
Turcaret does; and you'll still come with me!" She turned
abruptly, brushing leaves from her cloak. She glowered over
her shoulder at him. "Consider her my hostage." She walked
away.
Jordan was sore and stiff, and emotionally battered.
"Why are you doing this?" he mumbled, as he followed her.
"Because you have information I need," she said. "Very
important information."