“Would you care to repeat that?”
“I’d rather not,” her voice was small—and Clarissa Reese’s voice was never small.
Drake came close to pitying the woman. Clarissa’s eyes were bloodshot, though he couldn’t imagine it was from weeping for Clark’s death. Her constant blinking implied that it had been even longer since she’d last slept than he had. Her skin was paler than her white-blonde hair, attesting that she was probably out near her limits.
Her skin paled another shade, making it nearly bloodless. Maybe she was a secret vampire. Drake wouldn’t put anything past her.
“Elaborate.” President Cole didn’t make it a suggestion.
She blinked hard again, but for once Clarissa Reese was struck speechless.
“Oh f**k,” Danziger whispered it. Then snapped to attention, “Please excuse my language
