++Most consider the magic and strength of Vampire Lords when they think of their danger. What they should consider, first and foremost, is the wealth. One imagines a vast sum from centuries of accumulation and no expenses of food or water. ++

  Chapter 45

  Lorwick’s river wasn’t clean in the way Reggie had been hoping, apparently not even something as big as it could escape the taint that naturally came from so many humans living in so small a space. It was, however, less than one hundred percent fecal matter, and that was good enough for his purposes. He dove in and swam around beneath the surface, taking a good ten minutes under it just writhing in the currents and rubbing the crusted deposits off his skin, out of his clothes and hair. Not needing to breathe made bathing easier, apparently. Not his greatest advantage but shit, he’d take it.

  Actually, Reggie was seeing a lot of cool details under the water now. Apparently his lack of pain responses extended to the casual irritants of water on eyeballs, because he had a much easier time keeping those eyes open under the river’s surface than he would have as a human. His enhanced senses were also doing their work well, picking out all sorts from inside the murk. It was pretty dark under the water, moonlight didn’t penetrate it anywhere near as well as sunlight apparently, but he was working with that and soaking up all the bits of stuff either floating around or settled on the bottom.

  Eventually Reggie was about as clean as moisture alone was going to make him. He still stunk, that much he found out as soon as he emerged, but even soaking wet the smell wasn’t half as bad as before. Wasn’t a tenth. Maybe he could pass among civilised society. Maybe.

  But there wasn’t anything civil about where he was going now. Reggie headed straight for the Lady’s building, recognising it easily thanks to sheer height. The doormen stared at him as he approached, and were exactly as reluctant to let him enter as a pair of high-class guards looking at a man covered in semi-solidified human shit. They caved, though. Apparently recognizing Reggie from his last visit, deciding his story checked out, and knowing they had no other job than that. He made his way up hastily and found the Lady where she usually was, in her office.

  She was wearing a cape today, and some huge collar he didn’t think he’d ever seen the like of. It looked good on her, though not enough that Reggie felt any kind of attraction. She was too dangerous for that. One didn’t go around feeling attracted to people when living in a world populated near-exclusively by those who wanted to kill you.

  Besides, she was a cannibal too he was pretty sure.

  “You have been absent for almost forty eight hours,” the Lady told him. She said it as if she were merely sharing a fact. As if Reggie might not know. As if he would be grateful to have his ignorance amended.

  “I have,” Reggie nodded, “sorry about that.”

  “Sorry,” she echoed. “You think a ‘sorry’ is enough to explain this?” There wasn’t any clear anger in her tone, Reggie was left to imagine the emotion buried well beneath its surface. Unless it was just that she didn’t actually care. Maybe she was drilling him only to make him stay on edge and focus.

  Best not take a chance on that being the case, either way.

  “I was stuck in the sewers,” Reggie explained, “I had a…a lot of hitches.” She said nothing, which he took as an invitation to explain more and promptly did so. It wasn’t a long story, all told. By far the biggest knot in it was the cockroach.

  And that part, he actually liked telling.

  The only thing Reggie left out was his transformation. Velitheans tended towards Blood Courtiers and related Classes, and didn’t have Form of The Beast as an innate power, revealing that Reggie did would make it clear he was not, despite possessing Royal Presence, a member of their Lineage. According to Sycily, that would complicate things instantly.

  If the Lady noticed his omission, she didn’t let him know.

  “You killed a cockroach,” she said once he was done.

  “It more or less killed itself,” Reggie added.

  “You must have been lucky, but skilled too. If it bore down on you those legs would have been ruined. Mangled pulp. Missing?”

  “I lost one,” Reggie told her, again leaving out that it had been after the thing was pinning him against the floor. If she happened to have a mental image of limbs being burst instead of just having their bones broken, and coincidentally concluded that Reggie had fought the fight with 12 points less Toughness than he actually had, then that was hardly his fault was it?

  “Nonetheless, an impressive feat. Cockroaches are rare in the sewers, but there are enough of them that many Journeyman vampires attempt to raise their powers prematurely by hunting and eating one. The success rate on such endeavours is close to zero percent. The mortality rate, close to one hundred.”

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  Reggie completely believed her, even with the added bonus he’d gained for actually succeeding he wouldn’t be trusting his luck in another attempt. Shit he wouldn’t try it if he had all three of Norvhan’s late Witchfinders to help him out.

  “I wasn’t looking to do it,” he said after a moment, “if that’s what you’re wondering. It just went for me—”

  —”relax,” the Lady cut in, raising a hand to quiet him, “I know what happened. Cockroaches are carrion eaters. They are actually more likely to eat us than humans. When we venture down into the sewers, we utilize Royal Presence to give an illusion of life as well as danger. You didn’t know about them, didn’t know to do this, and were lucky to escape with your life. The only qualms I have lie with Walyn.”

  For not warning him, Reggie figured. That wasn’t good, if she heaped a punishment onto him Walyn was just petty enough to take it as a slight and blame Reggie.

  “Walyn did warn me not to go down into the sewers,” he admitted, “and that I needed to keep Royal Presence up like you said. I just couldn’t do it when I first went down, had to eat a few rats to even have the necessary blood. Once I was able to do it I think the thing was already attacking and didn’t care about the emotions I was blasting into it.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I see.” She abandoned the topic fast enough to give him whiplash. “What news have you of the unions?”

  “Uh,” Reggie said, eloquently, but the Lady just smirked.

  “You did well. Actually, you did better than if the sun hadn’t forced you to flee. As far as the strikers are concerned you are some ghostly figure who came from nowhere, struck down a score of guards single-handedly, and then disappeared without a trace. They’re talking about you far more than if you’d stuck around afterwards. The weight of a mystery.”

  Reggie made a note of that. “Do you want me to go back and rejoin them?”

  “Oh, yes!” she almost laughed, “of course I do, and damned quickly, before rumours of your heroics can stop circulating. This is your chance to go deep indeed. Ingratiate yourself to them, learn what you can and, when the time comes, persuade them to accept my help. It’ll be a long game, maybe years long, but one day, when they’re established and stable in their power, you’re going to give me a great deal of influence over them. I could not have planned this better if it had been my primary focus these past few days, and I don’t intend to let the stroke of good fortune pass me by. You’ll be well rewarded for your part in it, Reginald Smith.”

  He flinched at hearing his real name again, nodded, and did not ask for any given reward in particular. Reggie had enough interactions with rich people to know that they were innately fickle and could take offence at the most insignificant of slights. Or, failing to find one, simply a spontaneously imagined slight of their own creation.

  The Lady eyed him for a moment longer. Then her nostrils twitched.

  “You have Enhanced Senses I?” she asked him.

  “Yes,” Reggie confirmed.

  “I have Enhanced Senses III,” she smiled without the slightest friendliness, “there is a bathing chamber in the other room. Use it at once, use it thoroughly. Use an abundance of soap. We shall continue this conversation once you have.”

  This time, Reggie didn’t chafe at being given no choice. He might’ve skipped the river altogether if stinking even more of shit would’ve gotten him shoved into a proper cleaning area more quickly. He took his time in getting all the detritus clinging to him and scraping it away.

  Reggie was so focused on not pissing off the terrifying vampire lady of at least a full Tier above him, that he almost failed to notice he was having a bath. A bath in an actual bathing place. Not some frigid creek outside Norvhan, a room made to bathe and bathe comfortably in. He’d not expected to ever enjoy this, not without—

  …without making a living for himself using his alchemical discoveries. Back when he’d thought the world would ever stop trying to kill him.

  Well it’s succeeded now, no use being scared about it.

  The hot water felt cold all of a sudden. Reggie started scrubbing harder. It didn’t work, no matter how busy his hands got his brain just kept moving.

  “What Tier is the Lady likely to be?” he asked Sycily, mumbling the question under his breath and making plenty of noise in the water to keep from being overhead. He could’ve thought it, probably should’ve thought it, but talking aloud gave him more engagement and occupied his mind more.

  Most certainly Tier 5, and likely no higher.

  How do you figure that?

  Vampire Lord or Lady is a Class.

  That was news to Reggie.

  Remember what we said about things I need to be told?

  Sorry.

  It’s fine just…try, please, it’s my neck on the line. I know you can’t quite help it.

  Sycily seemed even more guilty at that, which had Reggie feeling nice and wretched. He finished smearing all the asshole juice off himself shortly and headed back out to find a fresh set of clothes laid out for him in the room beyond.

  Pretty damned nice clothes, actually. A bit too nice. Reggie found his lip curling as he slid them on. They stunk of wealth and debt. He really hoped the Lady didn’t charge him for these.

  “You took your time,” the Lady said as Reggie stepped back into her office. She’d moved, too, now standing in another room entirely. He had to follow her voice as it led him out onto a balcony overlooking the city.

  “Interesting choice of architecture,” Reggie noted, “you’re not worried about someone climbing out onto it, breaking in through the door and tossing a keg of black powder and naptha into your office?”

  She eyed him in such a way as to make talking seem like a bad idea, so Reggie shut up.

  “I will pay you for your work so far,” the Lady told him, “fifty ryven.”

  Reggie tried not to start squealing, or dancing. It wasn’t hard, the Lady ruined his good mood by continuing.

  “And I expect you to resume your infiltration promptly, as agreed. I have less expensive clothes should you be concerned about standing out in the attire provided for you already.” Reggie looked down at the fabric adorning him, estimated that he was wearing about a month of food, and found himself agreeing with her.

  “What is my goal in this besides…infiltration?” Reggie thought to the sight of that speaker, of how people had reacted. He felt a feeling he couldn’t name but very much enjoyed. Then he felt guilt starting to poison it. Could he go through with this?

  [You either can, or you will die.]

  It was the first good advice Dvo had given him.

  “You have no others for now,” the Lady replied. “Can you handle what you’ve already been assigned?”

  Reggie didn’t need to think any more about it.

  “Yes,” he promised her.