Phoenix’s arm, her catlike pupils dilating. “You talk as if you don’t think you’re one of us. Just because you look fully human...”
“I inherited my looks from my mother, eyes and all. And she didn’t go through what most of yours did. She wasn’t taken during the War by some bloodsucker against her will.”
“No. But she married one of the first dhampires ever to be identified,” Yoko said, her round face suddenly serious. “Even the people who adopted him as a kid before the Awakening had no idea where he came from. At least most of us knew our real mothers.”
“But not the Nightsiders who made them pregnant,” Phoenix said, brutally blunt. “Who abandoned them as soon as they were done with them. I had a complete family to begin with, even though no one outside a few in the old government knew my dad was working against the bloodsuckers during the War.”
“And kept on working for us after,” Yoko said, “even when he could have retired with honor.”
“Do you really believe that?” Phoenix asked, unable to hide the bitterness that never quite went away. “In the end, he left us like any true dhampir’s ‘father.’”
“He died on a mission. He was a hero, and everyone knows it.”
A hero, Phoenix thought. The kind she could never be. And all her anger, all her hurt couldn’t change that fact.
“Aegis was everything to him, more important than his own wife and child. I’d rather have a live father than a dead hero.”
For once, her voluble friend had nothing to say. It wasn’t as if this were the first time the subject had come up between them, but sometimes—when Phoenix least expected it—the anger came boiling up again.
Oh, Aegis had provided well for the widowed wife and fatherless child. And once Mother died, the agency had become Phoenix’s only family: deciding, after much evaluation, that the half-dhampir child was worth training, though her abilities were constantly tested and weighed against those of every full dhampir, the agents sworn to maintain the Armistice between humans and Nightsiders by every means possible. Unauthorized combat, ambush, deceit, submission, sex. Whatever it took.
Because only dhampires, with their almost catlike eyes, could see by night like full-blooded Opiri, could move nearly as fast and were nearly as strong, could meet Opir operatives in the Zone with some hope of survival.
But this wasn’t the Zone. An Opir assassin was inside the walls of San Francisco Enclave, ready to kill the mayor and foment chaos in the city at a time when the volatile politic situation could be set off by the smallest spark. The forthcoming election had the two factions—the mayor’s and Senator Patterson’s—at daggers drawn. And every report confirmed that the bloodsuckers were preparing for a major offensive.
And yet the mayor insisted that peace could be maintained and renewed. Mayor Aaron Shepherd. The man Phoenix had once loved. And had thought loved her.
Yoko seemed to read her mind. “I know,” she said. “This is kind of personal for you.”
Phoenix didn’t encourage further conversation on the subject, so Yoko moved on. “‘Contacts within this agency,’” she quoted Chan. “If they think that’s even possible, it’s bad. Could make this job a suicide mission.”
“So what’s new?” Phoenix asked as she and Yoko stopped by the mess hall for coffee and sandwiches. “I’d go in a heartbeat if I thought they’d pick me.”
Yoko grabbed a steaming mug and chose a table. The room was nearly deserted. Once they were seated, Yoko looked around and leaned close to Phoenix again.
“Maybe you didn’t notice how long Chan stared at you,” she said. “Maybe they haven’t sent you on any really dangerous missions. They haven’t been able to look past their prejudice. But you’re still Titus’s daughter.”
Titus’s daughter, Phoenix thought. That was the thing, wasn’t it?
“I don’t want any lives in my hands,” Phoenix said, sipping the nearly scalding coffee and welcoming the almost painful burning on her tongue.
“But you don’t have to cut yourself off from everyone,” Yoko said, laying her hand on Phoenix’s wrist. “I worry about you. You don’t go anywhere or see anyone. Except me, of course.”
Phoenix smiled. “Stop worrying, Yoko. I keep busy. I don’t feel deprived.”
“Look, Shepherd was one guy. There are guys who don’t care what we are, whether it shows or not. They won’t try to keep you hidden. Like Abdul...we’re happy together. Might not last forever, but almost nothing does.”
No, Phoenix thought. Nothing does. Not even life.
“Not interested,” she said. “I don’t like having those kinds of ties to weigh me down.”
“Because no matter how much you may complain about our being forced to join Aegis because of what we are,” Yoko said, “you live for the work, like your father. That’s another reason why Chan didn’t leave you off the list.”
“Or they just think it would be safer to send in someone who doesn’t have dhampir eyes. A lot easier than performing surgery on one of you.”
Yoko bit her lower lip. “It all depends on their tactics. A full dhampir could really tempt the assassin, and the Agency doesn’t seem to think your blood would be addictive. But if Aegis wants to keep a low profile...”
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” Phoenix said.
Uncharacteristically quiet, Yoko gazed into the depths of her cooling coffee. “Phoenix...can you be objective if they assign you to this mission?”
“Whatever my past relationship with Shepherd,” Phoenix said, drawing herself up very straight, “I know what he means to the Enclave. He’s holding everything together, giving the people courage and hope. He wants to end the mandatory deportation of minor lawbreakers to Erebus.”
“Which the bloodsuckers will never agree to,” Yoko said. “They have to have serfs, after all.”
“But he’s against it, and that’s a very popular position now that the Enforcers are scraping the bottom of the barrel to find citizens to deport,” Phoenix said. “I respect him for that.”
“And the alternative is Senator Patterson, who wants to crack down on so-called ‘offenders’ even more.”
“What else can you expect from a guy who used to be commissioner of the Enforcement Bureau?” Phoenix asked.
“The elections are going to be ugly this year, no matter how civil they try to be.”
“That’s why they have to choose just the right operative,” Phoenix said.
“You may not think you can do it, Nix, but I have faith in you.” Yoko covered Phoenix’s hand again. “I hope you’re the one.”
* * *
Yoko got her wish.
Chan called Phoenix into her office the next day. The spring morning was sunny but cold, with a
