She must have known what he was looking for. Legend or not, killer or not, he was still a male. And males went into the places where females slept looking for one thing, and one thing only. It was not, Fenrir reminded himself, a vow of chastity. Was she still pure? He thought he'd asked himself that question before. He could not remember. Perhaps it was better that way. That, at least, kept things interesting. Ceannah had the look of a creature with more than one secret. Asking her would do no good. If his sudden appearance had not startled her - outwardly, at least - then that question would accomplish nothing.
Nothing at all.
"Are you going to offer me a drink?" Fenrir asked, laughing silently when he'd finished. "It does seem only polite."
A thousand assassins when only one would do. There was something else at work here that he did not understand, which was indeed part of the allure. The rest of it - he supposed - was finding out exactly how pure the lady was. And how much a child could grow if his life depended on it. No one should be beholden to so venomous a serpent as Ceannah Anacleto, and yet he was curious about her. Yet he saw similarities between them. Perhaps he just wanted her to make him angry, so that he could shoot her in the eye. Or perhaps he wanted to force himself on her and rob Anacleto of whatever honor it had left.
Neither option would do anything to entertain him.