Page 56 of Maksym

Remy caught the look and let out a short laugh.

“Oh, no,” she said, lifting one hand. “You better stop looking at me like I’m some Marie Laveau starter kit just because I’m a witch from New Orleans.”

Grace blinked.

Remy leaned back in the chair, one ankle crossing over the other, as regal as any duchess and far less likely to accept nonsense.

“I don’t kill any chickens,” she continued. “There’s no hoo dooly with my magic. I am magic.”

Taras made a sound. It was small. Almost dignified. Nearly hidden behind the adjustment of his cuff. I failed to do better.

The laugh escaped me before I could refine it into something fit for a king. It was not loud, not careless, but it was real enough that Grace looked at me with a startled expression, as though I had produced a coin from behind her ear. Taras lowered his eyes to his notes, which fooled no one. His mouth had gone flat from the effort of not smiling.

Remy pointed at him. “Do not sit there pretending you are above this, silver menace. I have seen you laugh at far worse.”

“I have never laughed,” Taras said. “I have occasionally exhaled with judgment.”

Grace’s mouth trembled. Then she smiled.

The room loosened around that. It should not have mattered. There were names on the table that would soon belong to dead men. There were financial records glowing on screens, the smell of old paper and electronic heat, the faint hum of wards in the walls, the darkening Las Vegas skyline beyond the window waiting for night to deepen into its true life. None of that altered because Grace nearly smiled.

Still, something in me eased.

Millie patted Grace’s arm lightly. “There now. Sensible people, mostly. I will bring coffee. You sit if you wish, dear.”

“If I wish,” Grace repeated softly.

Millie’s eyes warmed. “Yes.”

I gestured toward the chair nearest mine. A small nod. Permission enough. I drew the chair back. She sat carefully, gathering the skirt beneath her with one hand. I took the chair next to her.

Taras remained opposite, notebook aligned with military severity. Remy still occupied the head of the table because Remy had never in her life entered a room without annexing some portion of it.

For several seconds, no one spoke. Grace looked at the image on the monitor.

Lucian Devereux smiled back from the photograph, blond hair tied neatly, cruel mouth rendered charming by lighting and money. I watched Grace’s fingers curl against the arm of her chair. Only once. Then she flattened her hand on her knee.

Control, I thought, and something in me bowed to it. Remy followed Grace’s gaze.

Her humor faded, but not entirely. With Remy, levity did not vanish so much as step aside, leaving the blade visible underneath.

“We were just discussing how much Miss Marlow knows,” Remy said, turning not to Grace, but to me. “If she had no meaningful exposure to supernatural society before Devereux, we are starting from a deficit. A dangerous one. She will not understand the structure of vampire courts, Elder privilege, donor law, Council politics, warded property—”

Grace went still beside me. I felt the error before Remy finished making it.

“—and if Lucian deliberately selected a human prosecutor, then he likely relied on her ignorance of our world as both shield and weapon,” Remy continued. “We will need to educate her quickly without overwhelming her. She cannot be dropped into crown business with no—”

“Excuse me.”

Grace’s voice did not rise. It did not need to. The room obeyed. Remy stopped. Grace placed both hands flat on the table. Not clenched. Flat. The gesture made me think of a lawyer rising for an objection, except she remained seated and looked directly at the witch at the head of the table.

“She is sitting right here,” Grace said.

Taras’s pen froze. I did not move. I wanted to. Every instinct in me rose with teeth bared, though against what, I could not say. Remy had not meant to wound. Intent did not matter much to wounds when they opened.

Grace’s mouth tightened.

“And I’m sorry if being locked in chains for two years, being a living blood bag for vampire monsters left me a little short on monster education.”