the Republic.” But my heart was hammering away in my chest. Oh, god. Was I playing bedroom games with a vicious, politically motivated murderer?
Well, of course he’s a murderer , a taunting voice in my head answered me. He’s a Vampyr, isn’t he? What good are they for, besides killing?
Well, the fresh memories of pain from that morning answered the question of what else they were good for, but I knew what my conscience meant.
I glanced through the frosted glass at the dark blob of Finch. Was he snooping around my compartment? I hurried up my washing, determined to keep him out of my stuff. Especially that Uptown package.
“If Bressov were involved, though, wouldn’t he have jumped at the opportunity to take Lucio’s seat at the Coven of Families? As of this morning, he still hasn’t made up his mind.” There—done washing. I shut off the water, cracked open the stall door, grabbed my towel from its hook on the wall, and threaded my towel through the crack.
“No? That’s not what the Stream says.”
My chest tightened. I hastily wrapped the towel around me and staggered back into the room, where Finch’s finger hovered over a Stream video selection on my wall panel. He called it up—a perky olive-skinned Vampyr from one of the minor Families was standing in front of a news desk. She tossed her hair over her shoulder.
“Great news, dear citizens of the Sanguine Republic! The Coven of Families should be back in session very soon. Lord Victor Bressov, the Bressov family’s nomination to fill the seat vacated by the—” the broadcaster’s vacant eyes crossed as she squinted at her monitor off-screen—“tragic and untimely demise of Lucio Bressov—intends to announce whether he will accept the nomination at tonight’s gala in New Sanguinus!” She shifted her weight, thrusting the opposite hip out to the side and setting off a glissando of sparkles from the glitter painted on her face.
“If he accepts, then the Coven will reconvene very soon, and it’ll be back to business as usual!” She forced an awkward giggle. “But if he declines, it could be a hotly contested race, as the seat would then open up to all Vampyr families, including those who don’t currently have a seat in the Coven. Either way, it’ll make for an interesting night, and you can watch it all unfold live on the Stream.”
Finch powered off the wall panel. I looked down, realizing I was dripping all over my compartment’s floor, but my thoughts were elsewhere. Victor was a powerful—and power-driven—man, of that I had no doubt. The proof was in my bruises. But somehow, he didn’t strike me as someone determined to kill—his own “brother,” no less—to gain a se at on the Coven. Then again, if Finch was right about the meaning of those vague transaction records as being part of a larger conspiracy, involving Violetta Stregazzi and possible others, besides . . .
“Hey, girlie, are you okay in there?” Finch stepped toward me and made a show like he was rapping his knuckles against my forehead. “You look lost in thought.”
“Sorry.” I shook my head. “It was a long, grueling day.”
Finch tilted his head to one side; though his dreadlocks were wrangled back in a ponytail, they shifted with the movement as if they had a life of their own. “This can’t be easy for you, being right there in the lion’s den. Look, baby, if you don’t think you can handle this . . .”
If I didn’t think I could handle this, what? Ten hours ago, I would’ve been dying for a way out of the situation, but even then I would’ve known Finch’s offer for empty lip service. Here it came now—he brushed my cheek with the side of his hand. I shivered, but was relieved to find it was only from the cold as water evaporated off my skin. Well, maybe not completely. But his touch certainly didn’t rile the same desperate passion in me that it once did.
“I can do this. He’s not as scary as he seems, at first.”
Finch arched
Well, of course he’s a murderer , a taunting voice in my head answered me. He’s a Vampyr, isn’t he? What good are they for, besides killing?
Well, the fresh memories of pain from that morning answered the question of what else they were good for, but I knew what my conscience meant.
I glanced through the frosted glass at the dark blob of Finch. Was he snooping around my compartment? I hurried up my washing, determined to keep him out of my stuff. Especially that Uptown package.
“If Bressov were involved, though, wouldn’t he have jumped at the opportunity to take Lucio’s seat at the Coven of Families? As of this morning, he still hasn’t made up his mind.” There—done washing. I shut off the water, cracked open the stall door, grabbed my towel from its hook on the wall, and threaded my towel through the crack.
“No? That’s not what the Stream says.”
My chest tightened. I hastily wrapped the towel around me and staggered back into the room, where Finch’s finger hovered over a Stream video selection on my wall panel. He called it up—a perky olive-skinned Vampyr from one of the minor Families was standing in front of a news desk. She tossed her hair over her shoulder.
“Great news, dear citizens of the Sanguine Republic! The Coven of Families should be back in session very soon. Lord Victor Bressov, the Bressov family’s nomination to fill the seat vacated by the—” the broadcaster’s vacant eyes crossed as she squinted at her monitor off-screen—“tragic and untimely demise of Lucio Bressov—intends to announce whether he will accept the nomination at tonight’s gala in New Sanguinus!” She shifted her weight, thrusting the opposite hip out to the side and setting off a glissando of sparkles from the glitter painted on her face.
“If he accepts, then the Coven will reconvene very soon, and it’ll be back to business as usual!” She forced an awkward giggle. “But if he declines, it could be a hotly contested race, as the seat would then open up to all Vampyr families, including those who don’t currently have a seat in the Coven. Either way, it’ll make for an interesting night, and you can watch it all unfold live on the Stream.”
Finch powered off the wall panel. I looked down, realizing I was dripping all over my compartment’s floor, but my thoughts were elsewhere. Victor was a powerful—and power-driven—man, of that I had no doubt. The proof was in my bruises. But somehow, he didn’t strike me as someone determined to kill—his own “brother,” no less—to gain a se at on the Coven. Then again, if Finch was right about the meaning of those vague transaction records as being part of a larger conspiracy, involving Violetta Stregazzi and possible others, besides . . .
“Hey, girlie, are you okay in there?” Finch stepped toward me and made a show like he was rapping his knuckles against my forehead. “You look lost in thought.”
“Sorry.” I shook my head. “It was a long, grueling day.”
Finch tilted his head to one side; though his dreadlocks were wrangled back in a ponytail, they shifted with the movement as if they had a life of their own. “This can’t be easy for you, being right there in the lion’s den. Look, baby, if you don’t think you can handle this . . .”
If I didn’t think I could handle this, what? Ten hours ago, I would’ve been dying for a way out of the situation, but even then I would’ve known Finch’s offer for empty lip service. Here it came now—he brushed my cheek with the side of his hand. I shivered, but was relieved to find it was only from the cold as water evaporated off my skin. Well, maybe not completely. But his touch certainly didn’t rile the same desperate passion in me that it once did.
“I can do this. He’s not as scary as he seems, at first.”
Finch arched
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