The next day passed in a blur of preparation and nervous energy.
I spent the morning with Elena, practicing power suppression techniques for the Covenant eting.
I had told her specifically about the eting but not the reason for it aside drawing their intrest.
The goal was to appear capable but not threatening – show enough strength to be useful, not enough to be considered dangerous.
"You're getting better at this," Elena said, watching manifest a controlled burst of divine energy.
"Control is one tthing. They're going to know whether you're planning sothing that affects the Covenant's interests." She set down her monitoring equipnt. "Have you thought about what you're going to tell her?"
"The truth. Mostly."
"Which parts are you leaving out?"
"The parts that would get killed."
She smiled grimly. "Smart. Just rember – the Covenant has been around for two thousand years. They've heard every lie, seen every deception."
Sound advice.
Around noon, Marco pulled aside.
"Got word from our contact at the Velvet Room," he said. "Selene's been asking about you. Specifically about your background, your connections, what jobs you've done."
"She's curious. That's not surprising."
"It's more than curious. She's investigating you." He pulled up so notes on his tablet. "She's contacted three different information brokers, asking about anyone matching your description operating on the West Coast. She's trying to verify your cover story."
That was concerning. If Selene dug deep enough, she'd find holes in the Alexander Cross identity. And if she found holes, she'd start asking questions I couldn't answer.
"How much ti do I have before she figures out the cover is fake?" I asked.
"Hard to say. Could be days, could be weeks. Depends on how thorough she wants to be and what resources she dedicates to it." Marco looked at seriously. "We need to complete the job quickly. This middle ground where she's interested but suspicious? That's dangerous."
"I'll handle it."
"Those words are becoming your catchphrase." But he let it drop. "Just be careful. Selene didn't beco the queen of this city's supernatural scene by being trusting."
I spent the afternoon reviewing everything I knew about Selene. Her history, her businesses, her known associates. Looking for angles, vulnerabilities, ways to deflect if she started asking questions I couldn't answer honestly.
The problem was, Selene was smart. Too smart to fall for misdirection or half-truths. If I wanted to maintain her trust – and I needed that trust to eventually corrupt her – I'd have to give her sothing real.
But how much could I reveal without exposing myself completely?
At seven-thirty, I started getting ready. Dressed well but not formally – expensive casual that suggested confidence without trying too hard.
The goal was to appear relaxed, in control, not like soone worried about being interrogated by a five-hundred-year-old vampire.
At eight PM sharp, I arrived at the Velvet Room. The main floor was its usual controlled chaos, but the doorman directed imdiately to the private elevator.
"Ms. Blackwater is expecting you. VIP level, private room three."
I ascended alone, using the ti to center myself. This conversation would determine the trajectory of my relationship with Selene. Handle it right, and I'd move closer to the corruption I needed. Handle it wrong, and I'd lose access to one of the most powerful beings in the city.
No pressure.
The elevator opened to the VIP level, and a staff mber guided to a room I hadn't been in before. Smaller than where we'd t last ti. A couch, two chairs, low lighting, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city.
Selene stood by the windows, silhouetted against the lights. She wore a simple black dress – elegant without being ostentatious – and her silver hair was down, falling in waves past her shoulders.
"Cain," she said without turning. "Thank you for coming on short notice."
"You said you wanted to talk."
"I did. Please, sit."
I settled onto the couch, and she turned to face . In the low light, she looked younger sohow, less like the vampire queen and more like the woman beneath the reputation.
She poured two glasses of wine and handed one before sitting in the chair across from . Close enough to converse easily, far enough to maintain so distance.
"I've been thinking about the other night," she said without preamble. "About what happened between us."
"As have I."
"And I've co to so conclusions." She sipped her wine. "But first, I need to ask you sothing, and I need you to be honest with ."
Here it was. The interrogation Marco had warned about.
"Ask," I said.
"Drop the mystery, tell who you are." Her eyes locked onto mine. "And don't give the Alexander Cross story. I've had people looking into that identity. It's good – very good – but there are inconsistencies. Things that don't quite add up."
My heart rate increased, but I kept my expression neutral. "What kind of inconsistencies?"
"For starters, there's no record of an Alexander Cross matching your description operating on the West Coast. No supernatural registrations, no business licenses, no property ownership. It's like you didn't exist before you arrived in this city six weeks ago."
"Maybe I'm good at staying off the grid."
"Maybe. Or maybe Alexander Cross isn't your real na." She leaned forward. "I don't care if you're using an alias. Most people in our world do. But I need to know who I'm actually dealing with. What you actually are."
This was the mont. I could try to maintain the lie, but she'd see through it. I could deflect, but that would only make her more suspicious.
"You're right," I said. "Alexander Cross is an alias. I use it for work, for situations where my real identity would be... complicated."
"And your real na?"
"Cain. That part is true."
"Just Cain? No last na?"
"Where I co from, we don't use last nas the way humans do."
Her eyes narrowed. "Where you co from. So you're not human. I already knew that. But you're not vampire, not shifter, not demon. Which brings back to my original question – what are you?"
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