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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.

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