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to wall off my thoughts to protect myself from her Instincts—the name she has for her mind-reading skill. She claims she was growing tired of listening to the nonsense I let escape, so she helped me control it. I asked her to teach me how to use my own Instincts, but she refused, claiming it would be too much knowledge for my immature mind. A typical response when she doesn’t want to give something up. But what Ellia doesn’t know is I’ve been meeting with Harris’ handmaid, Sasha Greyheart. Turns out she’s Astor’s sister, for which my initial reaction was to punish her in some way. Revenge for stealing away my brother. But I recalled back on what Elder said to me. About her being a mute and learning how to communicate from her. Turns out she’s being trained in some of the secrets Harris has to offer as well. Instincts are a tough skillset to grasp, but I’ll get there.

Ellia has also taught me several skills in the art of stealth and combat, one of which is the ability to repel from the rooftop. Both walling off my thoughts and repelling have been rather helpful as I sneak about the Taoiseach’s third floor balcony. But Ellia is wrong. I cannot give credit of my receptiveness to the blood on my hands. I won’t deny it has changed me. Death has stolen a piece of me that will never be returned, as Ellia tried to explain. But death sent me running. Afraid. Fearful of the callous world I was being dragged into. No, it wasn’t bloody hands that provoked me. It was my own brother, Stone.

I shake my head at the thought of him. It does me no good to dwell on his abandonment. He’s chosen his life. And I, mine. I push that speculation to the side and focus on why I’m here.

As I discovered when I first stepped foot on the Taoiseach’s estate, he doesn’t bother himself with too much security aside from the man-eating walls surrounding him. He’s the most powerful and talented man in Vedora, and fortunately for me, his arrogance benefits my end goal. Though, the lack of guards does make me wary. Does that mean he is immortal, just as the world believes him to be? He’s only a man. How could he possibly be immortal? He must have a weakness. Somewhere.

He’s only a man—I repeat the notion in my head—and I will find his weakness. From the handful of instances I’ve perched upon his balcony, I come out with some gain, whether it be meek or massive. This time, listening in on both the Shadow and the Taoiseach, my expectations are much higher. I sink tight under the window and listen.

“Yes, I always understood the potential she possessed, but what of the self-discipline. Has she managed to show any promise? I’ve already concluded she’s no Hybreed, so she is useless unless she will obey,” he responds.

Hybreed? Me? This is already paying off. I’m no Hybreed. I can assure him that, but why in Susy’s four hells is Harris looking for a Hybreed? Does that mean they’re real? I suppose I knew nothing about Instincts when the season began, so why not Hybreeds too? Or is this the kind of thing a near immortal does when he gets bored—he seeks out the impossible?

There’s a moment of silence before Ellia responds. How I wish my progress in using Instincts was further along. I would like to know what she’s pondering.

“Yes, sir. Since the moment I removed the sass-spitter from her mouth, her willingness to listen and fulfill requests has been nothing short of expectation.”

A grin forms on my face. My best deception yet. So simple. I haven’t spoken around Ellia since I earned this consequence. I stick my fingers in my mouth and glide them across my forked nub of a tongue. It’s comfortable by now. And I have figured out how to speak with it. Enunciation is a challenge, but I can speak. Ellia doesn’t know this.

“And what is your expectation, Ellia?” The Taoiseach tests her.

“Perfection, sir.” She answers correctly. “My expectation is absolute submission and she has not faltered. A few mistakes with her decisions, but obedience has not been an issue. Like I said, she has improved immensely.”

“And what is your purpose with her?” He asks another trying question.

“My purpose, sir, is to generate another soldier…no, more than a soldier…a weapon. For you to use for your own agenda, sir.”

“A weapon? Intriguing, but not what I need. Humanity is weak. We know this. And I often wonder why I even hold on to the species. Why I try so hard to maintain our civilization. We’re hardly worth it. No, I don’t need a weapon. I need cunning, confidence, discipline, and a lethal dose of seduction to woo the hearts, or cocks, of my enemies. And then strike them down when they’re most vulnerable. Everything you possess, Ellia. You are the only weapon necessary. Unless you are no longer up to the task.”

Without poking my head over the sill, I can’t fully comprehend the situation. Depending on the facial expressions conjuring on the Taoiseach’s face right now, he could either be utterly sincere with his response or seeking out more of Ellia’s agenda. I don’t even know her plans for me. She’s impossible to read. Sometimes, she touts how great Harris is, and other moments, she entertains the idea of me assassinating the man. He is only a man, I reassure myself. Maybe Harris has similar challenges with her. Based on the nature of the man, I would presume he’s prodding further into her agenda. There isn’t a considerate bone in him that would give Ellia the compliments she deserves.

“Then, I shall continue perfecting her skills and talents and hold her in reserve. The risks I encounter are endless, so it would not hurt to have a

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