Perhaps she had been too involved with the strange clothes to hear the approach. She should have seen from the corner of the eye even if she hadn't heard. There was disappointment in that, the instinctive need to analyze for a threat in an increasingly unknown situation.

The cold and damp had not reached the point of necessarily registering yet. It should, she was wearing fewer layers than in this situation in England. And she had been adapting to warmer climates.

And there was the hood she was missing. Or like it enough. And her fingers went to the trigger that was no longer there, for bracers of her own that were no longer there. The accent did not sound as one of her Indian brothers. Nor was his face recognizable. But he was an assassin, there was no mistaking that. "I'm afraid I don't know your name, brother." Evie didn't reach for the robe.