Page 64 of You’re So Vein

Don’t panic, Komal, and whatever you do, don’t show on your face that you can hear my voice. This is what we call a Midnight Murmur spell. It’s one way Dusk Court vampires communicate in secret, as we’re always surrounded by Upyr with superior hearing.

I know that you and your friends are investigating the husker. You’re being watched carefully. Factions within the Conclave are poised to use this killer to their own advantage. Kael Morrigan didn’t volunteer to leave his castle because he cares about human–vampire relations. He came specifically because he knew Augustin was asking for these law changes. I’ve tried to warn Augustin about Kael’s interest in him, but he won’t listen to me. I believe he’ll listen to you.

I imagine Augustin has painted me as delightfully fiendish, and I suppose I deserve his ire, but I need you to understand that I’m on your side – and any side your enchanting friend Celeste stands on – I want the laws to change. I want the husker caught and for Sanctus Estate to be a success. I want to weaken the power of the courts. I’d tell you why but the why is far too involved and far too dangerous for this message. It’s also not my secret to tell.

So, I’m giving you something that might help you trust me. Kael, for his many sins, is unlikely to be the husker. But I know where you should look next. I’m bound by Dusk Court magic to never reveal our secrets, and this is the most I can say without breaking an oath: Look carefully at Lilac. She’s more than she seems.

Dante’s voice vanishes the moment the blood runs out. I set down the empty goblet. I’m proud of how little my hand shakes.

“Done,” I say.

What was all that about?

“That will be all for tonight,” Irene says. “Kael and I are still deciding on our challenges.”

“I suggest that you learn how to hold a sword, human,” Kael growls.

“Super,” I mutter under my breath. I stand and collect my coat. I try to meet Augustin’s gaze, but he still refuses to look at me. Dante’s message swirls through my thoughts. What does he know about Lilac?

And what should I do about his warning, about Kael? If Augustin is in danger, I have to tell him. Which means getting him to look at me.

The Conclave delegates stand and sweep from the room, and Alaric, Gideon and Augustin follow. I hurry after them.

“Augustin,” I call out. “Wait.”

He stops, his body stiffening, but he doesn’t turn around. Gideon turns, but Alaric grabs his arm and yanks him forwards.

“Councillor Ahuja,” Augustin says solemnly to a suit of armour. “You were brave tonight.”

“It was easy.” I shrug. “Augustin, look at me.”

“I’m inspecting this suit of armour,” he says. “It could use a little decoration.”

He removes an object from his pocket – a beautiful, jewel-coloured scrap of fabric edged with sparkling beads – and drapes it reverently around the suit of armour’s shoulders.

Just when I think I understand him, he throws me off-kilter.

“What you said last night…” I start. “It caught me off guard. I didn’t have a chance to… I guess, I’m not certain that I—”

“Forgive me,” he cuts in sharply. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’ve been suffering from a bout of coffinitis.”

“Coffin-what-is?”

“Coffinitis. It’s a rare and serious condition that causes the afflicted vampire to suffer hallucinations.”

My voice cracks. “Hallucinations?”

“I was suffering under the mistaken impression that I had developed an affection for you.” He folds his hands behind his back, his posture perfect, his voice calm. “It’s regrettable that I’ve damaged our professional relationship due to my medical condition, but now that I’ve improved, I see that I acted foolishly.”

Something twists in my chest, sharp and cold. “So,” I say carefully, doing my best to match his calm, robotic tone even though my hands are trembling. “You’re saying that you didn’t mean any of it.”

“Correct.” He turns finally, and when his eyes meet mine, they’re the eyes of a machine – cold and clear, devoid of the warm fire that has smouldered for me before. “I hope we can forget this unpleasantness and not allow it to affect the reform efforts or our mayoral race. Or anything else.”

The armour gives a faint metallic clank. I tear my eyes from his to see thin dark vines twisting around the armoured legs. Were they always there?

I laugh once, but it’s thin. “Right, of course. Not a heartfelt confession. Just a head cold. I’ve got it.”

He doesn’t flinch. His eyes don’t change. He remains this tall, stoic statue.