“I know the way,” said James, and simply strolled past her. It was galling. He showed no humility or remorse. He ought to be behaving like a penitent, thought Violet. He ought to be in chains, the kind that dragged and clanked. Or better yet, the obsidian manacles that would block his power. He hadn’t liked that at all, last time. Instead he looked as if he was the one barely tolerating her.
