But—those empty seats.
Nikolaidis spread his hands. “We were discussing our sadly absent friends.”
“Oh,them.” Eloise made a face, but there was a flicker of smugness at the corners of her lips. She sank into her seat, every inch the proud lioness fresh from the hunt.
Francine could practically smell the blood on her breath. She repressed a shiver.
“We havefarmore exciting things to talk about. Now that it’s just us,” she purred. “Honestly, I’m surprised it took this long for the trash to take itself out.”
Francine picked up her glass to hide the sudden shudder of tension. Inside her, her lioness stumbled.
“Of course, theymighthave had some help,” Eloise added with a purr.
Francine’s heart thudded.
“Might?” she said lightly, one eyebrow raised.
Eloise grinned wider. “Let’s call it a team effort.”
“Oh, stop walking on eggshells, all of you,” Mrs. Smith grumbled. She pointed one bony finger at Eloise. “We’re all very pleased the riffraff is dealt with. But for the love of all things holy, can we stop dancing around the real reason we’re all here?”
“And what would that be?” Nikolaidis asked with a rakish grin.
“Really, Mr. Nikolaidis.” Mrs. Smith tsked. “The Soul-Eater, of course.”
Nikolaidis met Francine’s gaze. There was something she couldn’t quite read in his eyes—a warning?
Then Mrs. Smith added, “Ms. Delacourt and I have already been discussing it,” and a steel wall slammed shut behind his eyes.
“I see,” he said.
Mrs. Smith gave a tight little smile. “Now, Eloise. I was talking to your father only this afternoon—”
Fury flashed behind Eloise’s eyes, but the older woman continued as though she’d noticed nothing.
“—and he seems to have things well under control on his end.” She sipped her drink. “You understand why this might concern me?”
“Ihave thingsperfectlyunder control.” Eloise drummed her fingertips on the table as the waitstaff served the first course. “I am not going to wake up my future husband only for him to devour the souls of whatever rubbish is on those boats.”
“You’re not worried about your father reaching him first?”
“Mrs. Smith, I am so, so worried about that, I’m going to make sure it absolutely does not happen. Do you know who he has working for him?Rats.He’s going to wake the great Devourer of Souls, offer him his first meal, and turn agodinto some sort of—ofsuper-rat.”
“You are thinking of a better diet for him?” Nikolaidis ran a finger along the top of his glass, eyes narrowed. “I hope we have not survived the first round of this game only to become the Soul-Eater’s first meal.”
“It does seem like a conflict of interest, dear,” Mrs. Smith murmured kindly.
“That’s why we’re discussing it now, isn’t it? So we all know the order of operations once we arrive.” She pouted. “Honestly, it’s like none of you trust me at all. You trust me, don’t you, Frankie?”
“You’re my oldest friend,” Francine said at once.
“Of coursethat’swhy.” Eloise shot her a blinding smile. “And—yes, it is going to be awkward. Daddy wants the Soul-Eater to rid the world of common shifters, blah blah blah. I don’t want to be married to a god whose miraculous powers are limited to whatever boring shit rats and pigeons get up to.Someonewill have to compromise.” She sighed, stretching out hands that shifted to claws at the ends. “Or maybe we should see how far my father’s piety goes. He wouldn’t mind offering his own soul up to his own god, right?”
“Your father—” Mrs. Smith began.
“Needs to stop interfering in mylife.” She slammed her cutlery down. “He should stick to digging up the ancient past, not things from the real world thatnobodyeven cares about anymore!”
“To be fair, the Soul-Eater is from the ancient—” Nikolaidis pointed out.
