Phaedra smiled, and wiped a few errant blood tears away with the back of her hand. They'd come at the string of images Harry'd thrown to her. At least he was getting more comfortable with communicating with her that way. "Harry, do you know who hired me? I'd rather keep everyone off of their radar."
She needed to talk to Lindsey, and she needed to know the entire story.
Phaedra felt weak, and helpless, and there was nothing she hated more than that. She muttered under her breath in Roma, fully aware that she was in love, and that that was what being in love was.
"I used to be so good at what I was," she said, voice very far away. "Then one little symbol on one little piece of metal, one little smile... " She shook her head. "I hate love."