A woman with light brown skin and elaborately braided hair wandered away from a table and toward Lyssa. Her low-cut flowing green dress and heels matched her black and green Venetian mask.
Despite the mask, there was no question about the woman’s identity. Opaque jeweled lenses in the mask, which matched her earrings, confirmed it. She was Kanya Suwan, bearer of the Questioning Hedonist regalia and owner of the Traveling Club.
Lyssa felt out of place. Her baseline Night Goddess appearance was better-suited for scaring criminals than hanging out at clubs in either its classy or bizarre decoration modes. Under normal circumstances, the Illuminated disapproved of altering their regalia’s appearance when they were socializing. It didn’t matter anyway. She wasn’t there to eat weird puffy balls or dance.
“Welcome, Miss Corti.” Kanya bowed over one arm. Her voice was warm and husky. “I wasn’t able to meet with you the last time you came. I prefer to personally greet new visitors to my club.”
Lyssa surveyed the room. Kanya using her name pointed to everyone being Illuminated or being so loyal to the Society that it wasn’t a risk.
“It’s a nice place you’ve got here.” Lyssa nodded at the dancers. “This is less weird than what I saw last time. I don’t feel like I’m on drugs this time.”
“Change is the only constant in the Traveling Club,” Kanya replied. “On some days, I embrace the avant-garde. Other days, I am a strict traditionalist. Repeating myself would be a disappointment both to my soul and to those who visit this place seeking refuge for inspiration or simple enjoyment. The only thing I disapprove of is being predictable.”
“That’s interesting,” Lyssa said. She hadn’t spotted Samuel yet. “But I’m not here for inspiration or enjoyment. I don’t know if I’m boring, but Samuel told me to contact him, and I assume it’s for work.”
“Torch work is rarely predictable, and I doubt it’s boring.” Kanya smiled.
“True enough.”
The hostess motioned at several doors on the other side of the room. “Follow me if you would, please.”
She moved away, her movements as graceful and serpentine as if she were waiting to pounce on someone and swallow them whole. Her slight glance behind and mischievous smile halfway to the door only intensified the illusion. Lyssa walked behind her, maintaining a steady pace until they arrived.
Kanya gestured at the door. “After you meet with the Elder, you should consider availing yourself of the club’s amenities. I think you’ll find that regardless of your tastes, there’s something here for everyone.”
“Do you have any strawberry ice cream?” Lyssa asked. “I’m a simple woman.”
“I could get you some,” Kanya replied. “There’s nothing wrong with simple, straightforward pleasures.”
Lyssa smiled. “Then I might take you up on that.”
Kanya bowed her head and slithered away in search of another victim. Something about the woman left Lyssa unsettled, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Maybe it was just the difference between being a street-focused Torch and a bon vivant.
Lyssa knocked lightly on the door. “It’s me.”
“Enter,” Samuel called from inside.
Lyssa opened the door to a dimly lit room with two dark couches on opposite sides of a low glass table. Subtle striations of light passed through the table in waves. Samuel sat on a couch, but he wasn’t alone in the room. Theodora sat on the other couch.
“Hi.” Lyssa closed the door behind her and folded her arms. “Since you called me here instead of just sending me orders or having the EAA contact me, I’m guessing this isn’t a simple job.”
She glanced at Theodora. Lyssa had complained more than a few times about being called a witch, usually stating she didn’t have a pointy hat. She never thought much about other Sorceresses when she said it. Theodora wore a sparkly layered black dress complete with a black necklace, a pointed hat, and no mask—the Misunderstood Witch regalia.
Lyssa’s suspicions about the other Elder remained because of Theodora’s presence on the memory card and lingering discrepancies concerning the Houston job, but Theodora’s willingness to have Aisha help Lyssa recently and the lack of additional evidence pointing to corruption made Lyssa question her jump to judgment. Being a manipulative Elder was different from being a corrupt rogue. Maybe she really was a Misunderstood Witch.
Samuel gave a firm nod. “Yes. This isn’t a contract or a Society assignment. It concerns your request. I would have had this meeting at your home, but this was more convenient for Theodora due to prior business.”
Lyssa’s heart rate increased. She hesitated before replying, “You mean, my request to go to Last Remnant.”
“Yes.” Samuel kept his hands folded in his lap. “I was dubious about your desire to go there, and I remain dubious for various reasons, but I can’t deny you’ve earned the right.”
Had he told Theodora about her suspicions? Lyssa didn’t completely trust Samuel, but there’d be no advantage to him or the Society by telling Theodora. Oversight of non-Elders was handled by an Elder with direct supervisory responsibility unless something extreme happened.
“You’re also dubious about cell phones, the internet, and for that matter, TV,” Lyssa began, “and they aren’t going away either.”
Theodora put her hand to her mouth and laughed quietly, an amused glint in her eyes. Samuel scowled.
“Everything I do, I do for the Society,” he said. “That includes ensuring that the Illuminated under my supervision prosper. Despite what you sometimes seem to believe, Miss Corti, not everyone is out to get you.”
“No, just a lot of people.” Lyssa leaned against the door. “And they often have guns and shards.”
Theodora offered her a smile. “You’re right. It’s inevitable, darling, that a woman in your position will attract enemies. You should be proud of that. It means the criminals and rogues you’ve defeated understand your power over them. One can’t cleanse the world without burning someone along the way.”
“I sleep fine at night.” Lyssa shrugged. “But I also watch my back. That way, I don’t
