“A little.”

“What with?” The thought of being drugged without my permission or knowledge is unnerving, to say the least.

“A Verve derivative.” My breath catches. That derivative doesn’t need a Chair. I feel invaded.

He smiles, as if amused by my distress. “If he had been a real person, you would likely have killed him just the same.”

I feel very cold. “Did I pass your Test?”

He smiles. “You did. You didn’t hesitate to do what’s necessary. Many who move up the ranks traditionally would have come across this situation in different ways. Your situation is … unique. After all, we’re already well acquainted, aren’t we? This was really just a formality.” He moves closer to me and holds out his arms, expecting me to go into them, as I have before. Or so he thinks.

Oh. Shit.

What if this is a trap? If I pretend to recognize that closeness, am I caught, or is it the other way around? The questions whizz through my mind, as quickly as possible. I don’t have long, so I choose, praying that I’m right.

I step into his arms. “Ensi,” I murmur.

The arms wrap around me, strong and muscular. He’s a head taller than me, and rests his lips on the top of my head. It’s strangely tender. I’m shaking, but hopefully he thinks it’s from the aftermath of the Test rather than the fact I’m terrified of him.

I’d thought my sister had met him before, or at least seen him, close enough to sketch him well. Now it seems my sister’s done significantly more than that.

Goddammit, Tila. She couldn’t just infiltrate the Ratel, she had to go and sleep with the leader of it? There was no mention of it in her notes. This makes everything about ten times harder.

Or it might make things easier, depending how I play it. My mind whirrs, scheming and plotting just like my sister’s would have.

“So what now?” I ask, smiling, although I’m hoping that he doesn’t expect me to jump into bed with him anytime soon. I may be able to fake Tila, but I’m not sure I’m that good an actress.

He smiles, full of secrets. I look at his hands, long and thin. With a twitch of his little finger, he could order my death. He’s responsible for so much misery. Yet he’s still oozing charisma as he holds my upper shoulder, and I feel caught in his trap and angry that there’s no easy way out of this.

Shiny, silvery bait.