Storm of Shadows (Lumineers 1)

CHAPTER 13: COVINGTON HALL

The House of Representatives assembled mid-morning the following day—a mix of title holders and commoners voted in by the public. Peers. Covington Hall was filled with the chatter of friends greeting friends and rivals alike. From her position on the viewing deck, Tabby gazed down at the room below where two sides of raised wooden bleachers held each party. Everyone waited for the chancellor to take his place.

She found Steiner in the front row, in a hushed discussion with Arthur Beckham, one of the Technologist names from the Prism Pact. Their faces were close together. Deliberating. Talking about Arthur's danger, no doubt. Steiner nodded, clapped the man on the back, and turned away. His cognac eyes flicked upward and slid over her, no hint of recognition. There were other key players too—other names from the Prism Pact.

Her eyes landed on a familiar head of black hair. Beast. There he was. All this time posing as a Traditionalist in parliament. All this time right under her very nose.

He would be her first target.

She studied his figure, noticing definite similarities to the masked man she'd become familiar with. He moved gracefully compared to those around him—someone sure of himself, sure of his power. A glint of light revealed a green prism in the ring at his finger. A family ring. What a perfect way to disguise it.

Green. She could handle a quadrachrom. Blue, indigo, and violet would all overpower him. But she dared not underestimate any of her targets. How many other prisms were hidden about him?

A glance around the balcony revealed other onlookers. To everyone here, she was merely a reporter for the Chroma Times. Miss Lizzie Weddell, with a notepad and pen in hand. She was one of a few with an access card, complements of Wade Holland, the newspaper tycoon who valued his secrets more than money. He sat in the second row, taking up nearly two seats, his black hair combed and gelled, conversing with Anson Lobb, who nodded at everything Holland said. Her eyes slid over them, returning to the onlookers on the balcony.

A pair of blue eyes darted away from her, returning to the scene below—the same eyes that had studied her when she entered. She lingered over the owner of those eyes, offering demure, flirtatious smiles each time he found her. He hadn't quite reached his twenties from the look of his tall, gangly figure. And aside from his his eyes, he had an unremarkable face. She didn't sense much from him, but looks could be deceiving. If he wasn't a name she knew and recognized, then he was a threat.

In total, there were eight well-dressed gentlemen on the observation balcony, and two other women besides her. Any one of them could have been Spects, but she was more suspicious of the men than the women. Especially her blue-eyed stranger.

The chancellor emerged and brought everyone to order. Seats quickly filled. Sheets of parchment shuffled hand to hand. "We will start the session with speeches outlined on today's schedule," Chancellor Wareham said. He already sounded bored.

Who could blame him? Speeches! Ugh.

"Yes, yes. We'll get to that later," he said, addressing a complaint thrown his way. "The honorable Emmet Rand. Please, start us off."

Emmit Rand stood. "Thank you, Chancellor, sir." She began sketching notes on her pad, playing her part as Rand droned on about the decline in coal revenue and how it was affecting Rand Industries' manufactories. Moaning, more like. More bitching than she cared to listen to. "...a fall of nearly twenty-seven percent. Rand Industries is forced to remove workers from its mines to accommodate, without offering furlough."

She wanted to roll her eyes at that. No offers to furrow. He had profited plenty over the past ten years—his constituents included. She glanced up between scribbling and caught Blue-eyes staring again. She gave him another smile, batting her eyelashes.