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anyone wants it. Just clean the tip with some alcohol.” Drawing her cloak around her,<br />
she slipped out of the room, and up out of the dungeon, people complimenting her on<br />
her whip-handling all the way. Marla even muttered acknowledgment to a few of the<br />
comments.<br />
Whipping the idiot had been fun—she hadn’t done anything nasty in hours, and she’d<br />
been feeling fidgety. But now she wanted to find Finch. After her performance with the<br />
bullwhip, other people were going to start following her around and asking for her<br />
attention, and she simply wasn’t in the mood.<br />
She spotted Rondeau in the hot tub, with Zara squirming in his lap, and walked in their<br />
direction.<br />
Then she saw Bradley Bowman in the hot tub beside them, doing his best to be<br />
inconspicuous. “Well,” she said, crouching by the tub, behind them, whispering into<br />
Bradley’s ear. “I know you didn’t simply follow us, because I would have noticed. Has<br />
someone been using their little twitch of psychic ability to find out where I’m going to<br />
be, hmm?”<br />
“It’s not what you think,” B said. “When you blew me off this afternoon, I went looking<br />
for something to do to pass the time, and I ended up here.”<br />
“So you’ve been to these parties before?” Marla said, voice silky and dangerous.<br />
“I think he’s on the up-and-up, Marla,” Rondeau said. “He nearly peed in the pool when<br />
he saw me. I don’t think it has anything to do with us. This party is just the place to be,<br />
is all.”<br />
Zara yawned, pointedly, and Rondeau went back to nuzzling.<br />
“There’s no such thing as a coincidence, Rondeau,” Marla said. “Not on a night like<br />
this. If B’s here, he’s almost certainly here for a reason, even if we don’t know what it<br />
is.”<br />
“See?” Rondeau said to B. “I told you.” Zara made a petulant noise at his inattention.<br />
“Confluence,” B said.<br />
“That’s right,” Marla said. “Now, what do you know about Finch?”<br />
B shrugged uncomfortably and glanced around at the other people—the ordinaries—in<br />
the hot tub. “Nothing much. Nothing more than anybody else knows.”<br />
Marla sighed. Discretion was all well and good, but she was tired of being patient.<br />
She’d wasted too much of today killing hummingbirds and whipping idiots, and she<br />
wanted some forward momentum. She dipped her finger into the hot tub and swirled it<br />
counterclockwise. After a moment, the ordinaries in the tub climbed out and wandered<br />
away. Even Zara climbed off Rondeau’s lap and went into the house.