We laughed and waved goodbye to her and Sophia. I stayed in Dexter’s lap long enough to plant a kiss on his cheek, then returned to my chair. His bronze cheeks tinted with a blush.

Yep, still got it.

For a moment, I imagined all the colors of Dexter’s face fading to the translucent skin of a vampire, his sunny-blond hair and green eyes turning black. But even in my fantasy, it didn’t look right. He just wouldn’t be Dex without that golden glow. And even if I were tempted to turn him instead of letting the Elders send him away, it would be a blatant violation of the Treaty of Annis. I’d be in a whole new world of trouble, and the Elder Seat wouldn’t be so forgiving next time.

Dexter and I spent the next hour sitting as close as possible without actually sitting on each other’s laps, and after a while, my cheeks hurt from so much smiling. Like laughing until your belly ached, it was just one more way human happiness actually caused physical pain.

I realized with a start that I would actually miss that, the mortal ability to feel something so much it hurt, even when it felt good.

Dexter eventually headed home for dinner (and I think to check on Poe), and I stayed, sipping coffee, until the rest of the shop emptied out. I wanted to check on Reg too, but I sensed he needed some time alone. When all the customers were gone, and darkness began to fall, Lina collapsed into a chair across from me, propping her feet up on the oak barrel that passed for a table.

“Tired?” I asked, as if vampires could tire.

She sighed. “Exhaustion comes in many forms.”

“What will you do?” I asked. “When everything is done?”

“You mean when the good people of this village have had their minds violated, their homes stolen, and their futures forever changed?”

I shrank back in my chair, hiding my face behind my coffee mug. “Well, when you put it like that . . .”

“If you’re going to do a thing, you should be able to talk about the thing.”

“And if you feel so strongly about a thing, you should have tried to stop the thing.”

We stared at each other for a long moment, and finally, Lina looked away, shaking her head.

“You’re right.”

“So why aren’t you fighting it?” I asked. “I mean, not that I want you to—but I would understand. It’s just . . . me and Reg, we don’t have a choice. This is our one shot to get off death row.”

She smiled. “You have a funny way of talking about life, princess.”

“And you didn’t answer the question.”