1
Genetic research wasn’t allthat profitable these days. Surah wondered if she should chuck it and open a marijuana dispensary instead. Rifling through her assistant’s notes, Surah analyzed the data. Speed reading the conclusions, her heart rate spiked, just a little. Evidently, after several years of painstaking work, they were close to an answer. She’d given up on the research, like a coward, not wanting to continue to see the veiled hope in Malin’s eyes die. She’d silenced her guilt and gnawing worry with wine and partying with her brother, but now it seemed as if dumping the entire project in Cole's lap was the action that might save them both; Malin,andSurah.
If Malin died, so would the best part of Surah's heart. And Malin had no clue of herfeelings.
“Surah.”
She looked up, eyes focusing on the female standing in the doorway of her office in human form. Lavinia Mogren, her half-brother Geza’s Councilor. And the last person she wanted tosee.
“How did you get in here?” sheasked.
“Through the front door, ofcourse.”
Of course. Surah had changed the codes twice in the last month–a constant cat-and-mouse game with the Council. They might fund her, but they could keep their claws out of her research. She was a professional. That meant refusing to work with a walking, winged-statue breathing over hershoulder.
“Councilor.” Surah's tone should have frosted the glass in the door. “It’s past working hours. You can make an appointment for themorning.”
Lavinia smiled, stepping into the room; swept aside the hem of her long dress as if there was refuse on the floor. “I don’t think so. I admire the work you do here, Surah. I’ve been meaning to sit and speak to you about it for a whilenow.”
Surah tugged on her braid, irritated. The floors were plain white tile, waxed clean by bots every night. But, probably, the stench of humans offended Lavinia’s nostrils. Gargoyles, though a minority of the Seattle area population, tended to view themselves at the top of the food chain. Because they kept mostly to themselves, rarely interfering in human culture and vice-versa, they could mostly get away with that crap. Surah, straddling the middle of both societies, knew better. All she had to do was open the latest digital issue ofThe Stone Lover,and skim all the articles and photos keeping up with the latest gargoyle gossip. Malin was in there all the time, Seattle’s resident ‘human’ gargoyle—and Surah was usually there as well. She was the only IoveanuPrincess.
She sighed. “Take aseat.”
As much as the female irritated her, if Lavinia yanked her support of the project, the funding would soon follow. So she’d play the Councilor’s little verbal tap dance–and then kick her ass out so Surah could go home. No, wait. Geza’s damn soiree. Had to show her face at the Palace, that three-towered, stone monstrosity of a complex taking up several city blocks on one of Seattle’s more visible hills, and then maybe she could get some rest. At least there would be decent wine, plenty ofit.
Fingers snapped in front of her face–nails a little too sharp, a little too curved, to be fully mortal. Surah started, looking up. Lavinia frowned at her, dark eyesnarrowed.
“Do you need a nap?” Lavinia asked with a snap in her voice. She shifted, flexing phantom wings. They wouldn’t come out until night. “I was speaking toyou.”
“A nap would be fabulous, actually. What’s your poison, Lavinia? I’ve got work to do before I can gohome.”
Lavinia’s gaze held hers, mouth firm. She wouldn’t bother with a lecture on respect for elders and proper formality–Surah outranked her. “You’ve been unsuccessful–for five years–in formulating a solution to the Princes’weakness.”
“It’s a genetic, degenerative disease, Councilor. I don’t know why you call itthe-”
“I’d like you to ensure you remainunsuccessful.”
Surah shut her mouth. “What?”
Lavinia’s smile lacked humor. “Tell me. How different would your childhood have been if you weren’t plagued by your brothers? If you’d been free from blood associations that dictated yourdestiny?”
For one thing, she only hadonebrother. Half-sister to the current Prince, Geza, through their mother Adagia, many also forgot that Geza’s eldest half-brother, Malin, was not related to Surahat all. But the tenor of Lavinia’s question struck her. She knew the gargoyle taught political science to humans at a local university, on staff as their token gargoyle-to-human culturalambassador.
“Are you starting to buy into your own curriculum,Professor?”
Lavinia tilted her head. Woven into a tight braid, her hair didn’t budge even a strand. “What I believe,” she replied slowly, “is that the monarchy is weak. Geza is weak. His father, Ciodaru, wasweak.”
Surah's fingers thrummed along her desk. “What I do here isn’t political, it’s medical. You know—improving lives, not making them miserable. The Ioveanu’s aren’t the only family with this disease, just the most visible. What do I have to do withpolitics?”
Lavinia shook her head, eyes never leaving Surah’s. “You’re a fool if you think what you do here isn’t political. What do you think will happen if Malin iscured?”
“He’ll be able to shift every night without pain,” Surah snapped. “He won’t face a future where shiftingat allis impossible–trapping him in human form for the rest of his longlife.”
“No. He will take back the throne.” The words fell between them like stones. “There will be war between the Princes, and you caught in between.” Lavinia rose, looking down at her. “You love them both. Which one do you want to die?” Turning, she strode towards the entrance. Paused before stepping out, hand on the lintel. “Will you do as Iask?”
“Nope. It’s not personal, though.” She had to tack that last bit on–she couldn’t afford to make a personal enemy of LaviniaMogren.
Lavinia glanced back at her as she exited, dark eyes glittering. “Nor will be my response. Careful in the choices you make, Surah. You are only half of us, and therefore as weak in your way as your full-bloodedbrothers.”
