She was actually even smiling, heart-shaped face open and bright. “Well, hello there, stranger!”

I swear to God, she chirped at me.

A brief uneasiness filled me. I thought of stepping backward, decided it was better to show no fear.

It was an article of faith with both Gran and Dad that showing fear was a good way to madden an

already unpredictable person or animal.

“Hey. Kir said there was—”

“I asked him to bring you a little early. Girl time, you know.” She strolled into the room casually,

dropped down on one of the leather couches. It didn’t even creak, receiving her the way it would a

queen. “It gets so, well, tedious. Just boys hanging around.”

Something about the way she said it told me she didn’t find it boring at all. No, it sounded like she

was expected to perfunctorily bemoan it, while looking at her nails and smirking that pleased little

half-smile.

I stood there, not wanting to come any further into the room. Had no idea what I was going to say

next, but my mouth up and took care of that for me. “Where’re your bodyguards? I never see them

with you.” And they all wear red shirts, don’t they? I’ll bet they do. And tight jeans.

“Oh, them.” She waved a hand. “They’re around. I don’t need them in here with a fellow svetocha,

of course. They watch from in Shadow when I don’t want to be bothered.”

“In Shadow?” I repeated stupidly.

She waved one elegant hand. The cameo on a black ribbon at her slim white throat shifted a little.

“We can go unnoticed, you know. And surely you’ve noticed that you only have to state a wish before they leap to obey? Such good little boys. I’ve trained them that way. It was hard work, but I

managed.”

“Huh.” I eased a little farther into the room. Maybe the sense of danger before hadn’t been from her

specifically.

Well, she hated Christophe. But it was easy to see how someone could. He was just so . . .

. . . what? I tried to come up with a word, but all I could think of was the boathouse at the other

Schola. Where he’d held the knifepoint against his chest and said, Don’t hesitate. And where he’d

put his arms around me, and I’d felt safe. Not the type of safe I’d felt with Graves, but still.

The fang marks on my wrist burned. I sat down on another couch, one with a straight shot for the

door. This was the one Hiro most often perched on, his quick dark eyes taking in everything in the

room.

I kind of wished he was here now. I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“That’s one thing about a Schola, Dru. Someone’s always watching.” A bright sunny smile. “Always. It’s like a big . . . security blanket.”