Dust

XXV

"I thought you said you didn't want to get any further into this," I tell Damien, jogging to keep up with his long, decisive strides. We're on the hall leading to the interrogation rooms; Sloane has already left us, telling us not to get ourselves in trouble, but to go ahead and listen. I always knew there was a rule-breaker somewhere inside Sloane's case of ceaseless integrity.

"Here," Damien says, stopping at a door. He pauses before opening it, considering my statement, then adds, "I said we shouldn't go and investigate, but the evidence has come to us. Gael wouldn't pass this up, either."

No, he probably wouldn't. "Fine."

Damien, looking pleased with himself, turns the knob and pushes the door in. I precede him; the room is free of people save for the two of us, darkness encasing it. The desk in front of the one-sided mirror is strewn with water-damaged notepads and ink pens without caps, even someone's personal computer. I look into the interrogation room, where Meredith sits in front of Leopold, chains linking her wrists and her face pale. Her red hair spills down her back in frizzy, unkempt curls.

While Meredith is clearly not at her best, Leopold looks like what he is—an all-powerful vampire with a lot of money. His hair is practically white, spilling down to his shoulders like spindles of ice, his slender fingers emblazoned with rings of both gold and silver. Upon his slight-built body is a slim-fitting suit the color of onyx, his dress shirt a silky gray. Leopold looks like he's well aware of the fortune he has, the years he's lived hidden beneath the blood-red of his irises.

Damien takes a seat at a chair in front of the desk, and beckons me to do the same. So far, Leopold and Meredith have exchanged no words; both have just sat there staring at each other, Meredith looking ill-tempered and sick while Leopold just looks frustrated. "He must have told everyone this was a private conversation," Damien observes. "It explains why there was no one in here."

"He's going to have us killed if we hear something we're not supposed to," I whisper, knowing he can't hear us, but trying to be careful anyway.

"That's assuming he figures out that we heard something," Damien says, winking, then shushing me as Leopold opens his mouth. We fall into silence, keenly listening.

"I didn't think you could be so dumb, Meredith," hisses Leopold, chuckling sadistically. He sits back in his chair, folding his legs. "It's only a matter of time before they figure out what links you to us—"

"Leo, I'm not the stupid one," Meredith replies, lifting her chin as her chains rattle. "If you're really worried about that, then why did you come? You show them that I'm important to you, to your brothers, and they'll start asking questions."

Leopold studies her. "I came because I love you. Cassius told me you'd been arrested; perhaps I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

This makes me glance at Damien in disbelief—no member of the Commission has a significant other, has ever had one. Every word said only confuses me further, but I somehow feel it necessary to listen. I guess I have always trusted those more powerful than me, but now that I know they're hiding something, it will bother me until I know what it is. I might already be in too deep.

Meredith grins, but to me it seems fake. "If you love me, break me out of here."

"I can't do that."

"Leo, you need me," Meredith pleads, shaking her chains again as she rests her hands on the table. She bites her lip, and despite her begging demeanor, Leopold is placid. "If you want your next addition to go well, you need me. I'm no good to you in jail, and one person that knows is one person too many. Imagine what would happen, Leo. Maris would fall apart."

"It's too suspicious for us to remove you," Leopold says, running his fingers through his hair and sighing. His red eyes flick over her with contempt. "We can't risk this. I love you, Meredith, but it's over. We'll find another witch."

Meredith's lip curls under, and she sits back again. "So you came here to tell me that it's done? That I don't work for you anymore?"

"You're free. It's what you've wanted since you were a girl."

"No," Meredith corrects, stern, "it's what I wanted when I was a girl. I have grown to like my job, Leo, to like you. You and your brothers are kind to me. You can't leave me in here."

"I can, and I am," Leopold tells her, tapping his nails across the table. Glancing at Dame again informs me that he's as intrigued as I am; his eyes are narrow, his thick eyebrows pulled low over them. "You were reckless in getting yourself caught, and our business is a delicate one. We have plenty of witches that can do the job for us."
"Not as well as I can. I've never failed you—not one of them has remembered anything."

"What about the one that got away?"

"I've told you all that wasn't my fault!"

"Meredith, I'm joking with you," Leopold says, raising from his seat. Meredith's gaze follows him, her head lifting, revealing a red blotch across her cheek. I notice that her hands are shaking, fingers twitching. "Nothing is ever your fault, is it?"

There's a certain coldness in his voice, which makes even me hurt, even if he has said nothing to me. Leopold tours around to Meredith's side of the table, blocking our view of her. He lifts Meredith's chin up and says, "Look at you. I'm sorry it had to come to this."

I see the confused twitch of Meredith's eyebrows before Leopold grips her chin more firmly, reaching around her neck and snapping it. Meredith tumbles from her chair, slumping to a heap on the ground, and as I cover my mouth in horror, Leopold vanishes into thin air.

I exhale, looking at Damien with wide eyes. "Dame—"

His eyes aren't on me, however, they're aimed at something behind me, and as I get up from my chair and turn around, I run right into Leopold.

Despite his frail form, his muscles are firm, and I stagger back, Damien catching me. Seeing the Commissioner this close is like seeing an ice sculpture, angles and shadows and frigidity. In fact, the only thing warm about him is the fire in the red of his eyes. "I don't appreciate eavesdroppers," Leopold says, then cocks his head, studying Damien and I more intensely. "Oh, you two! I do remember seeing you at the recent hunter's initiation. Where is your friend, by the way? Perfecting his disguise?"

My hands are fists at my sides. "What disguise—"

Leopold grips my chin, his nails digging into my skin and drawing blood. My lips clamp together without my consent, and I glare at him, not in the least bit afraid. He can snap my neck like he did Meredith's, but whatever he's up to, he will eventually be caught for it. The entire Commission will. "It'd be in your best interest not to act stupid. We know something's off about the boy, and we're on to all of you."

He releases my chin, offering a lopsided smile, as gelid as the rest of him. "Now," he says to me, starting for the door. "Meredith here killed herself, you understand? Took some pills, maybe casted a witchy spell of some sort—I'll let you make up the story." Leopold chuckles and opens the door, light flooding into the room. "Don't take it the wrong way—but I hope not to see you again."

The door shuts with a click, making me jolt.