AN: Guys I hope you keep your eyes open and see how this one plays out... let's go...
***
And—Cassiopeia reflected, sipping her coffee; in on a joke the entire patient ancient mansion had not yet noticed was being told at its expense—Phei had made one charming amendment to the standard viral architecture.
He had not told her exactly how the trap would close. Not all of it. He had given her enough to deliver convincingly and withheld the rest, in case the Maxton patriarchs ever decided to extract her thoroughly enough to read between her teeth.
"You don't need to know how the trap closes, sweetheart."
"You only need to deliver the bait."
Which was precisely the sort of compliment his command voice made impossible to resent, especially when delivered while she was still shaking through the aftershocks he'd wrung out of her like pocket change.
"Moths to flame."
Yes. Repeatedly, rapturously yes. That was the essence of it all...
