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Alessi leaned back in the chair. “And does the name Fiona Molloy mean anything to you?”

“You were able to identify her?” Samuel asked, astonished.

“Yes, with her blood,” Alessi said. “It took some time to sort it out, but we found her.”

Samuel shuddered, his thumb pressing over the vein at the crook of his arm. It was always blood, wasn’t it? It was part of the census, taken from every child who had reached the age of five, for too many died without making it that long. A name, a tiny vial of blood. A way of keeping track of the Unblooded. It was, theoretically, for situations like this. For helping to find missing persons, for identifying the dead, for giving families peace and closure.

It scared him to his very core, for he was not foolish enough to assume there weren’t secrets in his blood that he didn’t want them to find.

Which is why he always toed the line.

“The name means nothing to me.”

Alessi studied him. “Even so, given that you’re now part of this case—and given the nature of the corpse—there will be a guard around your flat and your work. Just to keep an eye on things.”

Samuel actually scoffed at that. It was absurd. “For my protection?” he asked, with just the slightest bit of sarcasm. “I’m honored.”

“I almost like you,” Alessi said with a sad smile. “Shame about your condition.”

His brow furrowed as terror woke, his power roaring to life in his chest. He nearly spoke—nearly brought Alessi to her knees to demand how she knew, before rationality caught up.

Ah, right. His condition. It wasn’t the dark power inside that Alessi referred to, but the lack of power. As if he had chosen to be Unblooded. As if he would have chosen to be a Blood Worker at all.

“Well, that is a shame,” Samuel spat, with a fury that surprised even himself. He closed his eyes, reining in the anger that wasn’t wholly real—that was spurred on by the power coiled inside him, now awoken.

Alessi’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t be that way. Aeravin wouldn’t survive without the help of you and yours. You’re what keeps this country moving.”

“Like gears in clockwork.” Samuel sucked in a deep breath, his nerves frayed and his temper hanging by a thread. That’s all they were to Blood Workers—tools to be used. Cogs in a machine. Nothing more.

“More or less,” Alessi shrugged, as if to say, what can you do? “If you find anything else, let us know. Can you do that, Hutchinson?”

“Of course.” Samuel stopped himself from showing any reaction. As if he wanted a murderer running through Dameral. It wasn’t likely that they’d be killing Blood Workers, not with the way that body had been torn apart. Samuel knew enough to recognize that.

Crueler Blood Workers saw them as little more than bags of blood. Walking, talking power sources to be used as they pleased. And even with the quarterly Blood Taxes, even with the King making forced stealing of blood illegal, it still happened.

Samuel had now seen it first-hand.

Alessi took his answer at face value, nodding like a governess who had just gotten her pupil to do as she asked. Samuel wanted to slap the condescending look from her face. “Very good, boy.”

“Don’t!” Samuel snapped, the command slipping past his lips, insidious and dark. “Don’t fucking patronize me.” The power surged from him, hanging in the air. Samuel couldn’t see it—no, it wasn’t like that, but he could feel it as it bore down on Alessi, shame roiling in his gut as fear overtook him, forming the twisted twins of emotion he was so used to feeling.

Horror, at himself, at what he could do.

Terror, at the prospect of being caught out.

The Blood Worker went slack, all the tension easing from her body as she stared straight ahead, eyes unfocused. Her mouth snapped closed, her voice stolen away as the command wormed its way into her. As it bound her to Samuel’s will.

“As you say,” Alessi said, and she blinked suddenly, released. The power still clung to her, though, and Samuel knew that it would continue to hold her. Would silence her tongue should she try to address him that way again.

The silence stretched out, sweat beading on the back of Samuel’s neck as he waited—sometimes they didn’t notice, not really. The truth was too absurd to be taken seriously.

“I should be off then,” Alessi said, moving to stand. She was still in a bit of a daze as she packed her notebook away, as she moved towards the door. “If you think of anything at all, please let us know immediately. Lives could hang in the balance.”

“I understand,” Samuel said, though he knew that he had nothing to offer. He wished that he did. He didn’t want another innocent person to die, to vanish, even though it happened again and again in this city fueled by blood.

Alessi stared at him for a long moment, her icy eyes boring into him, like he was a puzzle that needed to be solved. But she only nodded goodbye, then showed herself out.

Samuel slumped down in his chair, his heart pounding an unsteady beat as his panic turned to something sicker.