I nearly groaned. Of course the terrace wasn’t an option, not with Moroi. The sunny afternoon that made such enchanting conditions for me would have resulted in a pretty miserable lunch for the Ivashkovs—not that either of them looked like they planned on enjoying this one anyway.

“Mr. Ivashkov,” said the bartender. “Nice to see you back.”

“Can I get food delivered down here again?” asked Nathan.

“Of course.”

Again. This subterranean lair had probably been Nathan’s mainstay for all meals since arriving in San Diego. I allowed the terrace one last, wistful thought and then followed Nathan and Adrian inside. Nathan selected a corner table intended for eight people. Maybe he liked his space. Or maybe he liked pretending he was presiding over a corporate meeting. The bartender gave us menus and took drink orders. I got coffee. Adrian ordered a martini, earning disapproving looks from his father and me.

“It’s barely noon,” said Nathan.

“I know,” said Adrian. “I’m surprised I held out that long too.”

Nathan ignored the comment and turned to me. “You’re very young. You must have just started with the Alchemists.”

“They start us all young,” I agreed. “I’ve been working on my own for a little over a year.”

“I admire that. Shows a great deal of responsibility and initiative.” He nodded thanks as the bartender set down a bottle of sparkling water. “It’s no secret how the Alchemists feel about us, but at the same time, your group does a lot of good for us. Your efficiency is particularly remarkable. Too bad my own people don’t pay more attention to that example.”

“How are things with the Moroi?” I asked. “With the queen?” Nathan almost smiled. “Are you saying you don’t know?”

I did—at least, I knew what the Alchemists knew. “It’s always different hearing an insider’s perspective, sir.”

He chuckled. It was a harsh sound, like laughing wasn’t something Nathan Ivashkov had much practice with. “The situation’s better than it was. Not great, though. That girl’s smart, I’ll give her that.” I assumed “that girl” was Vasilisa Dragomir, teenage queen of the Moroi and Rose’s best friend. “I’m sure she’d rather be passing dhampir laws and hereditary laws—but she knows those are only going to anger her opponents. So, she’s finding ways to compromise on other issues and has won a few of her enemies over to her already.”

The hereditary laws. Those were of interest to me. There were twelve royal lines among the Moroi, and Vasilisa and Jill were the only two left in theirs. Current Moroi law said a monarch had to have at least one other family member, which was how Jill had become such a political game piece. Even hardcore assassins would have a difficult time taking out a well-guarded queen. Removing her half sister would provide the same results, however, and invalidate Vasilisa’s rule. That was why Jill had ended up in hiding.

Nathan’s thoughts followed the same lines. “She’s also smart to hide that bastard sister of hers.” I knew he meant “bastard” in the sense of an illegitimate child, not an insult, but I still winced. “Rumor has it your people know something about that. Don’t suppose you’d give me an insider’s perspective on it?”