That had been easy. Surprisingly so. But she would be the last to complain about such things, especially given her plans, nefarious as they happened to be.

Come quickly, she had said. And so easily he had complied. Take me to her.

Oh, she would, but perhaps not in the sense he is expecting.

With a simple dip of her head, she turns and complies. It is easy enough to misdirect him. A simple tweak here, a substitution there, and he is on the path to Tephra. A slow smile curves her lips as she leads him, a smile filled with satisfaction, a smile entirely invisible to him. She is a master of sight, and he is no match. So as he goes to Tephra, she leads him to Nerine.

--

Soon they have reached the bounds of her home, and she can nearly taste victory alongside the scents of salt and sea. As fortune would have it, the similarities between their respective destinations is not such that it would be immediately noticeable. A ruse she could pull off long enough to steal him along a careful path to a small cave tucked into the base of the cliffs.

Once inside, she pauses, shifting so that she faces him fully. Twisting so that she is directly between him and his means of escape. Only then does she drop the false sight from his eyes, the distant volcano and the brightness of crisscrossing streams of lava. Only then can he see the truth, the lie revealed. Her gaze, cool and blue fixes upon him, no hint of her motive revealed in the fine, delicate lines of her features.

“I do apologize for the ruse, Canaan, but I thought it easier to get you here without a fuss. I would rather not hurt you.” Her voice is soft, almost companionable, but there is steel in the velvet of her tone. With a small, humorless smile, she adds, “Welcome to your new home.”

Whatever his thoughts, whatever his suspicions, it really is rather moot at this point. She has him just where she wants him, just where she needs him to be. He would have the whole of Nerine to contend with now if he chose to escape, even if her powers decided to fail her. Besides, she is fairly certain the threat of death would keep him well enough contained. He does not strike her as the suicidal sort.

So she allows his weighty gaze to roll off of her, instead quirking one equine brow in questioning disdain. He would only know what she allowed him to know, but she did feel it best he be aware of just whose fault it is that he is here, with her, instead of safely by his mother’s side.

After a heavy pause, she finally responds with a soft, “Your mother, naturally.” The words are said as almost an afterthought, but it is very clear they are not. “I was not lying when I said I had just seen her.”

Glancing past him towards to craggy back wall of the shallow cave, her sharp blue gaze goes unfocused, distant, for the briefest of moments before hardening into chips of blue ice. Shifting, she fixes him with that piercing stare. “Suffice to say, your mother should really learn to hold her tongue.” And she is certainly not above being the one to teach her to do so.

She considers him for a long moment, mulling over prospects, opportunities, things he would likely shudder to think of. Finally, in an almost  offhand manner, she murmurs, “All I want from you is your presence.”

A slow, vaguely amused smile curves her lips, barely present but certainly not a good sign for him. “Speaking of, hold still. I would hate to hit something important.”

With no further warning, she strips the tips of his feathered wings, the dust falling away to leave only ragged ends. A decidedly effective means of keeping him grounded, of keeping him from slipping away the moment her back is turned.

She certainly couldn’t have that. She would not have anyone thinking her a poor kidnapper.

She is not in the habit of explaining herself, so the fact that he had received one at all is in and of itself rather impressive. Quite frankly, she feels no compulsion to explain herself further. He would find out soon enough. And frankly, at this point, the less he knows, the better.

As it turns out, it seems his mother is not the only one who would do well to hold her tongue. In this case, he does have some cause for his rather sharp questions, but as he is not familiar with the situation, it really is not his place to comment on such things. The supposition amuses her though, which is perhaps good for him. He would have at least some small reprieve from her own sharp reprisals.

Lips quirking into a faintly amused smirk, she tilts her head as she considers him. “I suppose you could say that.” Although there is a distinct difference between insult to one’s self and insult to one’s children. A lesson Ellyse would learn the hard way. Still, she feels no particular compunction to alter Canaan’s assumption on that score. She doesn’t particularly care if he thinks well of her or not. Indeed, the worse he views her, the more satisfying her revenge would be.

His next comment, an assumption even worse than the first, catches her entirely by surprise. So much so that it causes her brows to fly upwards as she takes an instinctive step backwards. “Oh, hell no,” she blurts out before she can censor her words. Suddenly, she laughs, a wholly unexpected sound. It has been ages since she has laughed, and this situation is positively absurd. Finally curbing her amusement, she pins him with disdainful stare. “Trust me, I want nothing of your… charms. And so long as you behave and do as I ask, you will see your family again one day.”

She would say no less for wear, but she can’t quite guarantee that. She has plans, after all.

She has never found shame in using intimidation as a tactic for subduing her enemies. Indeed, when one is as physically delicate as she, it is necessary. With her narrow shoulders and refined features, she is hardly any physical threat to anyone. She does not have the bodily strength to win out over a stallion like Canaan without using her wiles to back her up. And in his case, given his own rather impressive abilities, she really had no alternative. She is not fool enough to believe he would have come (much less stayed) by his own volition.

Frankly, she is being far too kind, given the situation. Of course, her aim has never been to hurt him. Not that she would hesitate to do so were he to give her reason. She is not a fool, and no threat is believable if one does not also have the will to back it up. He is clever enough to see through any such guise, and she is neither good nor pure enough to offer any such thing.

So he is stuck with her petty feminine intimidation. Really though, typical male to think she might be able to level any other way.

A this point however, it seems they are at a draw though. Who could wield their power more quickly? As a betting woman however, she is more than willing to take the risk that he has no desire to see whether he could blow her off a cliff before she could turn his internal organs to dust. She is a rather quick draw, after all.

It seems though, that he is finally coming to terms with his situation. Still, he does seem to be digging into the very dregs of his argument to come up with a reason she might let him go. He really should give her more credit. “I’m well aware,” she responds easily, without hesitation. “Why don’t you let me decide whether it is a waste of my time or not. Besides, if the point were to draw your mother to me, I would have chosen a much more effective method.” No, the longer she could keep Canaan here without Ellyse’s notice, the better. It would make the ultimate confrontation all the sweeter.