103

"I think you underestimate a vampire's capacity for deception, Mekuztli," Bouchard says. "But your judgment has been sound in recent nights." He squats down and looks Shawn in the eyes. "You will be watched. Even when you think you're alone, my eyes will be on you. My ears line these walls. My nose can smell your stink. Give me a reason—any reason—to doubt you again, and you'll wish I'd given you a clean final death right here in this tunnel. You will beg and plead for release, but it will not come for you. Do you understand?"

Shawn cowers back into the wall like he wants to push through and disappear. "I understand."

Bouchard grabs him by the skull and hauls him to his feet. "Then get the fuck out of here." When the Leper finally disappears back toward the main warrens, Bouchard grunts. "You'd better be right about him, Mekuztli. Too much is at stake."

You nod. "He's terrified of you. I don't think he'll dare to so much as leave the sewers for weeks."

"Good. Now leave me in peace. I have more to deal with tonight than just you."

You thank Bouchard for his cooperation and consider your next move as he slinks off deeper into the dark and slime beneath the city.

Mere weeks ago, your first instinct might have been to run home and inform your sire about Bouchard's revelations immediately, but recent events have changed you. You're starting to think for yourself and plan for a future where you might not be as bound to Corliss as you are now. Information is power, but it's a currency that loses value the more it is shared. Sometimes the best option is to keep your secrets close to breast and employ them only when the time is right.

Your mind made up, you decide that it's time to leave the sewers and head topside. With an Archon roaming the city just itching for an excuse to execute someone and move on, stirring the pot any further might not be productive.

The lights are off when you arrive home and flicking the switch to turn them on does little to dispel the oppressive mood. The spacious rooms feel unnaturally empty in Gerard's absence. You've grown accustomed to the ghoul greeting you at the end of the night, but of course he has business to attend to on your behalf—he can't be here all the time. So why are your muscles tense? Why the pricked nerves and disturbing sense of discomfort?

Uuntezazk jumps down from the small table by the doorway and you pick him up in a cupped hand. His fine, Black fur is bristling.

"Afraid?" he asks through the bond. "Strange feeling?"

"I feel it too, Uuntezazk," you say softly. "Like something crawling up my spine."

You search the outer chamber thoroughly, but nothing seems out of place. Maybe you'll feel better once you've had a good day's sleep. You put your gun back in its case before opening the door to your bedroom half-expecting to find an uninvited guest sitting on your bed. Nothing. Not even a sound. You twitch involuntarily at a delicate scraping of metal from the front room, and it takes a moment to register that it's only Gerard unlocking the front door.

"Ma'am?" the ghoul calls out.

"I'm here," you reply from the bedroom. "I just got in."

"That's for the best," Gerard says. "I need a word with you before you retire for the day