“At the moment, I was hoping for a bit more . . . distance.” This is harder than I thought. If I could say it in French, I could add the innuendos needed to imply that it was a personal issue and they could mind their own damn business. But their expressions show openness and willingness to help me, so I swallow my bitterness. Note to self: They’re not the ones I’m upset with.

“Your kindred called you back to France to fight with them barely two days ago,” someone says, “and you complied. But you returned to New York last night—immediately after the battle. Can we conclude that this break from France is your decision, and not something wished for by your leaders?”

I take a moment to formulate my response. “My kindred would prefer that I stay. It is my decision to leave. But I am here with their blessing.”

“We will not be perceived as taking your side in any type of personal dispute, then, if we welcome you among us?”

“Definitely not,” I respond.

Everyone seems to relax. So this is what they were digging for.

Another man speaks up. “Thank you for the clarification. Jean-Baptiste named Vincent the head of France’s revenants the same day you defected. We were worried about becoming involved in a power struggle.”

I shake my head. “Vincent is the best man for that job. I support him fully.” They are awaiting further explanation, but I’m not going to give them any. I’m not about to announce that I’m here because I’m heartbroken. That the woman I love is in love with my best friend. That it will kill me if I have to see them together any longer.

Around the table significant looks are being thrown among council members, and there is a general nodding of heads. A man with a mustache and a strong Southern accent speaks up. I have to listen closely to understand him. “Frederick Mackenzie, American Civil War. I’m acting administrator of the Warehouse. So far, you’ve been staying in the Greenpoint house. Gold says he put you there temporarily, since you knew Frank and Myra from a convocation. But we ask all newcomers to the New York clan—whether you’re freshly animated or an old-timer from out of town—to live here in headquarters for the first six months. That way you can learn our ways without being an unwitting security risk just because you did things differently back home. After the six months, you are welcome to join a house in the borough of your choice, or, like many of our more sociable kindred, decide to stay here.”

He pauses, and I nod to show I understand.