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“You all right, Hutchinson?” Cobb asked, entering the room. “Can I get you something?” He gestured towards the drawer where everyone knew he hid his alcohol.

“Thank you, sir,” Samuel said. “But I doubt it would help me with my job.” He tried to smile, but he failed when he saw the way that Cobb was looking at him.

Pity.

“I don’t think that will be a problem, Hutchinson.” Cobb pulled the drawer open and grabbed the decanter. “I really think you should.”

That creeping terror came crawling back, sinking its claws into him. “No. No. Sir, you can’t.”

“I don’t have a choice,” he said. “We can’t have Blood Workers sniffing around. It will upset our customers. I have to let you go.”

He laughed—a wild, maniacal thing. He couldn’t help it. Let you go, Cobb had said. Like it was a simple, easy thing.

Not like it was his life being shattered.

Cobb didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at him. He just poured a glass of bourbon and placed it at the edge of the desk.

Samuel studied the amber liquid, considered taking it. Downing it. Then turning the power inside of him onto Cobb and forcing him to let him keep his job.

No.

That would never work. Cobb had supervisors. And this establishment was one of the few that catered solely to the Unblooded, owned and managed and staffed entirely by their own kind as they bought and sold goods across the world. It was the reason Samuel had chosen it as one of the only places he could work, as one of the few places in this entire forsaken country where he could avoid them. And now that he had their attention, he’d lose this, too.

He could, however, make Cobb walk him to the bank, certify the withdrawal and give him all the coin inside. It would be enough for him to flee this brutal, horrible country. He’d get on a ship and sail away, never to be seen again.

His hand hovered over the glass, a new life so close, just waiting for him to reach out and take it.

But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t give in to his power. Not like this. He snatched his hand back, as if burned, and looked away, taking deep breaths to still the dark urges that called to him.

“Samuel?” Cobb asked, his brows drawn as he watched. “You okay?”

The laugh threatened again. “I am now unemployed with hardly anything to my name. I have rent due at the end of the week, and only enough food in my pantry to get me through the next two days.” He glanced up, just a bit of his power slipping past. “So tell me, what the fuck do you think?”

Cobb closed his eyes, as if pained. “Of course, you’re not okay. I just ruined your life, didn’t I?” He blinked, startled by his own honesty.

“Right.” Samuel got to his feet. “I’ll get my things, then.”

“Wait.” Cobb shot to his feet, the lingering traces of Samuel’s power still driving him to honesty. “I’m sorry. I really mean it. You’re a good kid. If you need a reference?”

Shaking his head, Samuel turned away. What good was a reference? If he was fired for catching the eye of the Blood Workers, well, that wouldn’t change. Any reputable company run by Unblooded wouldn’t want him, and he couldn’t go to any company that was run by Blood Workers.

Couldn’t let them find what was in his blood.

Chapter Five

Shan

“I’ll make the rounds tonight,” Shan declared, pushing away from her desk. There were notes and letters and invitations scattered all over it, the fruits of her success. In the week after the Funeral Ball, the requests had started rolling in, and she knew that this was important. As a young Blood Worker, as a new Matriarch, her social calendar was everything.

But she itched to move. Only a few days in and she was ready to shed her skin like a snake, to sink into the role she was most comfortable in—the one who controlled things from the shadows, not the woman who danced in the limelight.

The Sparrow.

“Do you want me to come along?” Bart offered, kindly. He, too, had been kept house-bound for the past few days, plotting and committing and cleaning up after a murder on her orders. Surely he felt the same restlessness that she did, but Shan was feeling too selfish. She needed this night to herself.

“No,” she replied. “Stay in case anything important comes up.”

Shoulders slumping, he nodded and turned away. “Be safe.”