Han swerved down a corridor, into an area of plush private apartments, testing the doors on both sides. The first few he tried wouldn’t budge, but he found one door unlocked, and ducked inside, closing the door behind him.

It was a lady’s bedroom, and obviously recently occupied. A gown lay crumpled on the floor next to the bed, and shimmies and cammies and petticoats were scattered about like the remnants of some smallclothes disaster. A fresh dress was laid out on the bed.

A clock on the dressing table told him he had a half hour before the meeting began. Leaning down, he peered into the mirror. His clothes were clean, but there was a smudge of dirt on the bridge of his nose and a long scratch down his cheek, beaded with dried blood, collected somewhere on Gray Lady. Snatching up a washcloth from a basin, he scrubbed at his face.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” somebody said behind him, in a deadly cold voice.

He whirled around, still holding the towel.

Fiona Bayar stood there in a silk dressing gown and slippers, her white hair piled on top of her head. He saw the open door behind her, and realized that she must have just stepped out of her bath.

From what Han could tell (and he could tell a lot), she had nothing on underneath the silk. Well, he thought, at least she isn’t carrying an amulet.

“Alister!” As if she’d heard his thoughts, she groped for her flash, which wasn’t there.

“Fiona! Ah…what are you doing here?” Which wasn’t the smartest thing to say, since he was the one who had kept her off the council. And she was the kind to hold a grudge.

“What am I doing here? What are you doing up here?” She looked past Han, to where her amulet lay on the bed, next to her change of clothes.

Fiona leaped toward her amulet just as Han moved to intercept her. She slammed into him, and they both tumbled onto the bed, Fiona on top. He could feel her amulet under his spine, but she was busy diving into his neckline, trying to get her hands on the serpent amulet. He grabbed her hands and held them tight, her face inches from his nose.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said.

“I thought you’d be at the council meeting,” she gasped, struggling to free herself.

“I’m on my way,” Han said.

And the next thing he knew, Fiona had wrapped her long legs around him and was kissing him like she hoped to suck the breath right out of him. The silk wasn’t much of a barrier, and anyway, the robe had slid open. Han couldn’t help reacting. He was human, after all.