Kylee waited, sitting on Talina’s stool, aware of the glances cast her way. It took a bit for her to realize that not only was she on Tal’s sacred seat, but she’d added to her reputation by pummeling Hofer in the public toilet. Funny fucking place, this Port Authority. But not as vile and full of quetzal-hating scum as she’d expected it to be. It was one thing to know that these folks had a low tolerance for quetzals. And totally another to realize that Whitey was out there, motivating an entire lineage to kill humans.

Sure, there were plenty of Hofers here, but so, too, were there Montoyas, Shigs, and Raya Turnienkos. Some of what she’d considered to be Talina’s incomprehensible memories began to make more sense.

That’s when Inga, casting a sidelong and narrow-eyed glance Kylee’s way, carried a tray bearing five whiskeys to the side table where Falise and her glowering servants huddled.

Inga placed the tray, which raised eyebrows at the table, and pointed in Kylee’s direction. As Falise and the others turned surprised gazes her way, Kylee slipped off the stool and nodded to Inga before ambling her way over to the table.

“So, I hear you had a little bad luck at the poker table,” Kylee said by way of introduction. “Of course, the big news is that you finally figured out who Dek is. Are you people congenitally stupid, or what?”

At the words, Ednund rose, a glittering in his eyes as he dropped into a combat crouch.

“I wouldn’t,” Kylee said softly, her vision expanding. “It’s a quetzal night, what with the storm, and my blood is already up. Besides, I may be from the bush, but even I know it’s bad form to attack someone who just bought you a round of drinks.”

Clarice was watching her with the most fascinated dark gaze, as if trying to find some explanation for her behavior.

“What do you want?” Falise asked, motioning for Ednund to sit.

As the golden boy took his seat, and that deadly gaze locked on Kylee, she dropped onto the bench beside Clarice and opposite Falise and Ednund. “Guess I’m curious.” She tapped her head. “Got some of Dek in here. Shared TriNA. He’s lineage. But then I meet you. Like, fucking wow. Talk about different. Makes for a fascinating study. Same genetics, same enculturation, but you’re like a total waste of skin.”

“What did you call me?” Falise’s eyes had narrowed to slits.

“Comes from living in the bush with quetzals.” Kylee lifted one of the glasses of whiskey. Took a sip. Made a face and tried to keep from coughing as she swallowed. “People actually drink this stuff? On purpose?”

Falise remained expressionless, coldly focused.