they did, it does open some possibilities.”
“Can we talk about it over a drink?” Nyx asked.
“No,” Fatima said. “I know why the rogues want you dead. I thought about it myself, before things got… messy. You must understand the politics of bel dames using rogues to do their black work?”
“Yeah, I remember you and Rasheeda sending me to prison.”
“You weren’t rogue. Merely acting against our ethics. We don’t sell out our country on the black market. It’s dishonorable.”
“Ferrying zygotes is hardly—”
“This isn’t the time to discuss it,” Fatima said sharply. “Old days. Old arguments. I speak of today.”
Nyx thought about stabbing her with a needle again.
“Bringing in rogues is much trickier than merely disciplining a morally corrupt bel dame,” Fatima said.
“Cause then you’ve got to admit you’re dealing with a bel dame civil war?”
“Let’s not go that far.”
“What do you want, Fatima?”
Fatima’s mouth twitched. Another attempt at a smile? “The question is, what do you want, Nyx?”
Nyx shook her head. “I can’t do what you’re asking.”
“Who better?”
“Somebody who likes life a little less.”
Nyx began to rise.
“Wait.” Fatima held up her hand. “You haven’t asked what I can offer you.”
“What, money? Me and my team are doing all right. If you asked me up here for this you already know that.”
“What’s the one thing I can offer you that no one else can?”
“Prison?”
Fatima clucked her tongue. “Come now, anyone can get you that.” She got to her feet. Nyx noted her favoring her knee, again. She walked to the big cabinet behind her and pressed her hand to the faceplate. The cabinet opened. She pulled out a high-profile document case made of shiny black resin. They were fireproof, waterproof, and generally impossible to open without the right blood code. She palmed it open and pulled out a slick sheet of organic paper. She laid the paper on the table in front of Nyx and took her time sitting down again.
Nyx grabbed the paper. She couldn’t make out much. It was First Family nonsense on flowery monarchy script. Official documents like this were why she liked to keep somebody lettered on her team.
“What, you want me to wipe my ass with it?” Nyx said. She knew the bravado wouldn’t fool Fatima into thinking she understood it, but it made her feel better.
“That’s a six-year-old request from Queen Zaynab asking us to reinstate your bel dame status,” Fatima said.
Nyx felt her gut clench. “I didn’t think she bothered.”
“She did. We’ve been… processing it.”
“For six years?”
Fatima shrugged. “Rejected requests are forever rejected. Until it’s rejected, it’s still being… processed.”
Nyx really wanted a drink. “What’s your point?”
“I can make you a bel dame again.”
“If I hunt down your rogues for you,” Nyx said.
“Tell me about your life right now, Nyx.”
“I have a good fucking life.”
“Do you? Babysitting diplomats’ daughters. Hunting down First Family servants who’ve stolen their cast iron. Paying miserable wages to a venom addict and harboring an all but illiterate boy shifter—”
“Suha’s reformed, and the kid can read just fine.”
Fatima raised a brow. “My point. What happened to your honor, Nyx?”
“Like you know what that is. Fuck you.”
“Let me tell you something. I’ve worked twenty years to clean up the bel dame circle. I’ve hunted and bled a dozen petty rogues just like you. You’re the only one we didn’t reform or kill. Why is that?”
“You tell me.”
“Somebody was protecting you. I don’t know who it was, and I’m not sure I care to know. But whoever it was isn’t protecting you anymore. I can offer you protection.”
“If I hunt down the rogues.”
“If you work for me.”
Nyx shook her head. “Fuck you.” She started to the door.
“Think
“Can we talk about it over a drink?” Nyx asked.
“No,” Fatima said. “I know why the rogues want you dead. I thought about it myself, before things got… messy. You must understand the politics of bel dames using rogues to do their black work?”
“Yeah, I remember you and Rasheeda sending me to prison.”
“You weren’t rogue. Merely acting against our ethics. We don’t sell out our country on the black market. It’s dishonorable.”
“Ferrying zygotes is hardly—”
“This isn’t the time to discuss it,” Fatima said sharply. “Old days. Old arguments. I speak of today.”
Nyx thought about stabbing her with a needle again.
“Bringing in rogues is much trickier than merely disciplining a morally corrupt bel dame,” Fatima said.
“Cause then you’ve got to admit you’re dealing with a bel dame civil war?”
“Let’s not go that far.”
“What do you want, Fatima?”
Fatima’s mouth twitched. Another attempt at a smile? “The question is, what do you want, Nyx?”
Nyx shook her head. “I can’t do what you’re asking.”
“Who better?”
“Somebody who likes life a little less.”
Nyx began to rise.
“Wait.” Fatima held up her hand. “You haven’t asked what I can offer you.”
“What, money? Me and my team are doing all right. If you asked me up here for this you already know that.”
“What’s the one thing I can offer you that no one else can?”
“Prison?”
Fatima clucked her tongue. “Come now, anyone can get you that.” She got to her feet. Nyx noted her favoring her knee, again. She walked to the big cabinet behind her and pressed her hand to the faceplate. The cabinet opened. She pulled out a high-profile document case made of shiny black resin. They were fireproof, waterproof, and generally impossible to open without the right blood code. She palmed it open and pulled out a slick sheet of organic paper. She laid the paper on the table in front of Nyx and took her time sitting down again.
Nyx grabbed the paper. She couldn’t make out much. It was First Family nonsense on flowery monarchy script. Official documents like this were why she liked to keep somebody lettered on her team.
“What, you want me to wipe my ass with it?” Nyx said. She knew the bravado wouldn’t fool Fatima into thinking she understood it, but it made her feel better.
“That’s a six-year-old request from Queen Zaynab asking us to reinstate your bel dame status,” Fatima said.
Nyx felt her gut clench. “I didn’t think she bothered.”
“She did. We’ve been… processing it.”
“For six years?”
Fatima shrugged. “Rejected requests are forever rejected. Until it’s rejected, it’s still being… processed.”
Nyx really wanted a drink. “What’s your point?”
“I can make you a bel dame again.”
“If I hunt down your rogues for you,” Nyx said.
“Tell me about your life right now, Nyx.”
“I have a good fucking life.”
“Do you? Babysitting diplomats’ daughters. Hunting down First Family servants who’ve stolen their cast iron. Paying miserable wages to a venom addict and harboring an all but illiterate boy shifter—”
“Suha’s reformed, and the kid can read just fine.”
Fatima raised a brow. “My point. What happened to your honor, Nyx?”
“Like you know what that is. Fuck you.”
“Let me tell you something. I’ve worked twenty years to clean up the bel dame circle. I’ve hunted and bled a dozen petty rogues just like you. You’re the only one we didn’t reform or kill. Why is that?”
“You tell me.”
“Somebody was protecting you. I don’t know who it was, and I’m not sure I care to know. But whoever it was isn’t protecting you anymore. I can offer you protection.”
“If I hunt down the rogues.”
“If you work for me.”
Nyx shook her head. “Fuck you.” She started to the door.
“Think
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