"We're not talking about Julian Sim," Lettow says icily. "At least not yet. We'll address the future in a moment, Krarr, but my thoughts are still on the past." His eyes look beyond you as he sifts through centuries of memory. "Aila was a Daughter of Haqim and an elder of the seventh generation, Embraced in Anatolia before the rise of the Ottomans. We met a few times in the early twentieth century." He points at the photo taken on the Spanish Riviera. "After that we drifted apart."
"What does she have to do with…?" You point vaguely toward the street somewhere outside, which Dove and Carlos are probably still watching with worried expressions as the courier they await does not arrive.
"Soon," Prince Lettow says. He draws the curved knife, studies the blade, slides it back into its sheath. Then he steps forward so he's right in front of you. "But first, I have a question for you, neonate. And it's important that you answer me quickly and honestly. Do you know that Julian Sim consumed the soul of Aila?"
Next
Conflicting emotions crash through you. Some of them aren't your own; they're echoes of the elder you shamefully devoured alongside Julian Sim. You remember that night. Julian's courage failed him. He encouraged you to finish the work he began. And you did.
Julian found her and brought you to her. But you committed the awful crime.
"When I asked that you answer me quickly," Prince Lettow says, "I did not mean 'after a suitable period of stupefaction.' Do not make me grow uncivil."
Just as you start to speak, someone knocks on the door. Prince Lettow ignores it, narrowing his eyes as he studies your face. You feel the power of his Blood, and you remember the years spent hiding, afraid that your aura would reveal your crime. But the stains on your soul have faded. After a moment, the Prince of Tucson takes a step back, his expression puzzled.
The door bangs again.
"What is it!"
"We found the last courier." Dove's voice. Flat and hard.
The Eagle Prince studies you for another moment, then opens his office door.
"She's dead," Dove tells Lettow as she enters. "We found her car two blocks away. She crawled into one of the safehouses but couldn't reach the phone."
"So that's all of them," Lettow says.
"I'm here! Carlos is here!"
"You couldn't even track down a single wight," Lettow snaps. "Maybe we'll send Carlos in his Corolla if we have to, but not you."
"Did he talk?" Dove asks, gesturing at you.
Lettow stares at you again, his gray eyes shimmering and his expression different from anything you've seen before. Thoughtful? Or…he almost looks dazzled, like someone touched by the Kindred's mental arts. But who could influence an elder?
He shakes his head.
"Julian didn't consume Aila," the Prince says. "I'm sure of it."
He stares right at you. And he doesn't figure it out. Or does he? His expression is unreadable, the contemplative gaze of a man who has been dead for over two centuries.
Next
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