"See, I knew you'd get it if I explained. Sometimes it feels like I'm speaking another language when I say the same thing to the Primogen."
He adjusts the rear-view mirror and backs out of the parking spot before lowering the driver-side window to speak with his attachés. "Report back to the precinct and gather some backup just in case. We don't know exactly what we're dealing with."
"You know how you said this car doesn't stand out?" Jordan says uncomfortably. "Don't you think the opposite will be true in Rockcliffe Park?"
Qui grunts as he shifts the car into gear. "Like no poor or middle-class schlubs drive through the rich neighborhoods dreaming of their big break?" He sniffs. "You want to get into a police cruiser to drive over? I'm not looking to cause a commotion—for all we know, Ms. Maier has already recovered and she'll send that odious butler to clear us off her lawn."
Jordan shrugs and you turn your attention to the window, watching the city pass by through the ghost of your reflection. You're pleased to find that your appearance is still up to snuff after the buffeting winds on the city streets. A man of your stature has appearances to maintain, and your look manages to confer the gravitas of an elder while still suggesting the fire of youth. Having been Embraced in your middle mortal years has left you versatile enough to blend in with just about any crowd if you put enough work into your outfit, from the club scene to the boardroom. You pull yourself up straight. Lookin' sharp, if you do say so yourself.
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