If Bruce came to pick me up I could look forward to some small talk. He was approachable in a way the others weren’t. Hiro was generally the nicest and didn’t blink no matter how many questions I asked—even if his answers were more like riddles. Kir, though, didn’t say a word. He spent the meetings looking at me with a puzzled expression, like I was a dog sitting up and talking instead of barking on the floor where I belonged.

He set a quick pace, too, and I struggled to keep up. Kept my head down and stretched my legs. At least while he was clearing traffic and I was hurrying, I didn’t have to really think. It was like tagging along after Dad.

Not really.

Leon brought up the rear, drifting in my wake. He didn’t even look out of breath. We arrived at the carved door in a shorter time than I’d thought possible. It opened, and Kir stepped aside. “Milady.”

I stepped on through, into the shabby sitting room. It wasn’t until the doors had clicked shut behind me that I realized Kir hadn’t followed. I stood there for a second, my bag strap sliding down my shoulder, and when the doors on the other side of the room ghosted open I was as ready as I was going to get.

Some part of me was expecting this. I smelled spice and perfume, and the flash of red jerked me up short like a watchdog on a chain.

Anna, framed in the door, stared at me. I stared back.

She looked a bit thinner, but what would make someone else haggard was only glamorous on her. It was the first time I’d seen her in anything other than an old-time dress. She was in fashionably frayed designer jeans and a scrap of red silk that had to be a top more expensive than any sane person would pay for. She was pale, bare arms and cleavage in a peeping-out red lace bra. I’m no bodybuilder, but Dad would have taken one look at Anna’s arms and pronounced them “weedy.” It wasn’t his most damning adjective, but it was close.

She was actually even smiling, heart-shaped face open and bright. “Well, hello there, stranger!”

I swear to God, she chirped at me.

A brief uneasiness filled me. I thought of stepping backward, decided it was better to show no fear. It was an article of faith with both Gran and Dad that showing fear was a good way to madden an already unpredictable person or animal.

“Hey. Kir said there was—”

“I asked him to bring you a little early. Girl time, you know.” She strolled into the room casually, dropped down on one of the leather couches. It didn’t even creak, receiving her the way it would a queen. “It gets so, well, tedious. Just boys hanging around.”

Something about the way she said it told me she didn’t find it boring at all. No, it sounded like she was expected to perfunctorily bemoan it, while looking at her nails and smirking that pleased little half-smile.

I stood there, not wanting to come any further into the room. Had no idea what I was going to say next, but my mouth up and took care of that for me. “Where’re your bodyguards? I never see them with you.” And they all wear red shirts, don’t they? I’ll bet they do. And tight jeans.

“Oh, them.” She waved a hand. “They’re around. I don’t need them in here with a fellow svetocha, of course. They watch from in Shadow when I don’t want to be bothered.”

“In Shadow?” I repeated stupidly.

She waved one elegant hand. The cameo on a black ribbon at her slim white throat shifted a little. “We can go unnoticed, you know. And surely you’ve noticed that you only have to state a wish before they leap to obey? Such good little boys. I’ve trained them that way. It was hard work, but I managed.”

“Huh.” I eased a little farther into the room. Maybe the sense of danger before hadn’t been from her specifically.

Well, she hated Christophe. But it was easy to see how someone could. He was just so . . .

. . . what? I tried to come up with a word, but all I could think of was the boathouse at the other Schola. Where he’d held the knifepoint against his chest and said, Don’t hesitate. And where he’d put his arms around me, and I’d felt safe. Not the type of safe I’d felt with Graves, but still.

The fang marks on my wrist burned. I sat down on another couch, one with a straight shot for the door. This was the one Hiro most often perched on, his quick dark eyes taking in everything in the room.

I kind of wished he was here now. I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“That’s one thing about a Schola, Dru. Someone’s always watching.” A bright sunny smile. “Always. It’s like a big . . . security blanket.”

Funny, it didn’t sound like a security blanket. It sounded like a threat. Her bright blue eyes were on me, but I didn’t sense anything other than lazy contentment swimming through the windowless room. The fire—there was always a fire in here—crackled companionably. The touch was quiescent inside my skull, and I relaxed a little bit.

But if it hadn’t been Anna giving me the sense of danger before, then who? Or what? One of the Council?

The traitor, maybe? Everyone seemed to be so sure it was Christophe. Except me, and maybe the wulfen whose lives he’d saved. I was supposed to find out who wanted me dead here, but I wasn’t having any luck.

Jesus, I wish Dad was here. “Anna.” I decided a frontal assault would be best, so to speak. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.” She made another lazy, hand-waving gesture. “But go ahead, dear.”

What the hell are you playing at? But I chose something else instead. “Why do you hate Christophe?”

She stiffened a little, eyelids dropping a fraction. The smile fell away, like a china plate dropping from a wall hanging. “I don’t exactly hate him.”

“Then what is it?” I figured out she was keeping one eye on me and one eye on the door. Maybe she was just as nervous about me as I was about her, and the bitch cheerleader vibe was her protective coloration.

It was a sobering thought. Did that mean I’d made a snap judgment about her, the same thing I hated when people did it to me?

“Did he tell you?” One corner of her candy-gloss mouth turned down.

“He was kind of busy keeping us all alive. He didn’t mention you.” Beyond, Oh, Anna, spreading her poison. Not exactly a ringing endorsement. And Dylan hadn’t seemed too happy to see her either. But I wasn’t going to tell her that. It would be a bad idea.

“Would it surprise you to know that Reynard was my first love?” Now her attention was all on me. Weighing, watching, greedy little eyes. I tasted oranges and wax, but faintly. The fang marks in my wrist tingled, itching. The irritation in them was getting more intense. “Yes? I see by your expression that it does surprise you. He’s a heartbreaker; it’s his one true gift. Along with treachery.” She made a slight movement, settling herself more comfortably in the couch. “We were an item for quite some time. A few years.”

I was surprised. I couldn’t even imagine the two of them in the same room together. Not without feeling a little queasy. And why hadn’t Christophe told me this? “I don’t think—” I began. Was I actually going to defend Christophe to her?

“No, you don’t. Let me give you some sisterly advice, Dru. The next time you see Christophe, run. If my experience of him is any indication, he’s up to no good. He likes impressionable young girls. A lot of djamphir do. Human women, you know. Svetocha are supposed to be infinitely more attractive, but there are so few of us.” A quiet little laugh. “Just you and me. Don’t you feel special?”

Something curdled in my chest. If I need a reason now, Dru, it will have to be you. But here she was telling me . . . telling me what?

God, I sure could pick ’em. After a long run of no dating at all, here I was learning all sorts of things about the boys I liked.