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– And if without my permission?

– Al, for the sake of the moon, don’t be so literal. – I hope my condescending smile says eloquently enough what I think of her mental faculties. – It’s just a figure of speech that has nothing to do with you and your nonsensical demands.

She gets on her feet so sharply that she topples over her chair.

I don’t even raise an eyebrow.

– So you don’t give a damn if the next batch of your affair ends up in whose hands?!

– I’ve never let anyone blackmail me. – This time my voice is iron and emphatically official. I don’t normally use it with women, but this time A’Letha asked for it.

All Moonmen have a Gift, an accidental trait given by the Moon, from whose light we once emerged. My Gift is a voice. I can use it as a tool to intimidate or seduce, to intimidate or relax, to make a man jump out of a window with a single intonation, or to make him strip naked in front of a crowd of thousands and tap-dance.

It’s a shame that every time I use my Gift, I get terrible, lingering migraines. Sometimes for days or even weeks. But there are two sides to the moon, and every move of the Light is billed to the Dark One.