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of power.” Lucien pretended interest in the condition of his hands. “So, now that’s settled, any plans until the sunrise?”
    Wariness worked through Jani’s growing haze as the many possible replies to Lucien’s simple question presented themselves. She’d visited his flat only a handful of times, and had never stayed the night despite his veiled, and not-so-veiled, invitations. As always, she felt that she intruded, that she had entered a place in which she didn’t belong, the inner workings of which she didn’t want to know. She stood and gathered her coat. “I should go home.”
    â€œI hope I haven’t offended your delicate sensibilities.” Lucien’s voice sharpened, the soft French Provincial accent faded to nothing. “I have showered. Unfortunately, the bruises won’t be healed before you have to leave—”
    â€œLucien.” Jani stopped in the middle of the room. The hand that held her coat felt gloved in lead. It hung at her side, leaving the garment to drag on the floor. “The psych job. Save it for someone who buys it.”
    â€œI would have done anything he wanted in order to find out how you were.”
    â€œRough trade for information. You’ve done it before. You crave the power. The control. You like it. Your. Choice.” Jani fixed on the image of Pullman being lifted from the snow onto the stretcher—the memory touched some deep place within her and released sensations she’d long suppressed, touch and smell and sound. “Well, there were times in my event-filled past when I didn’t have a choice. So stop trying to make me feel guilty about all the awful things you’ve put yourself through on my account, because your primary consideration has always, always , been what’s best for Lucien Pascal.” Her breathing came labored—the sense of weight had moved up her arm and across her chest.
    â€œPost-augie irritability, compounded by fatigue and the effects of hybridization. Aggravated by all those memories that bubble to the surface because you’ve lost the will tokeep them locked down where they belong.” Lucien left the doorway and walked to her, shaking his head. “I know the feeling.”
    Jani opened her hand and let the coat fall to the floor. “You are a liar.”
    â€œYes, but I’m your liar.” Lucien rested his hand on the open neck of her coverall, then waited to see if she’d pull away. When she didn’t, he opened the top fastener, the second, the third, his fingertips brushing her skin with each slow movement. “Your spy. Your whore. Your whatever you happen to need at the time.” He bent close, his lips and tongue tracing swirls of heat along her throat and neck as he slipped the garment from her shoulders. “All I want in return is the chance to make us both feel better for a little while. Is that too much to ask?”
    Jani took Lucien’s hands in hers and held them away from her body. Caught the chill that flashed in his eyes, the anger at a need denied. Pushed down his hands until they hung at his sides, then freed them. Counted the seconds as they stood, still and barely breathing, separated by a few scraps of cloth and a gulf of understanding wider than any sea.
    â€œMy choice.” She leaned forward and kissed him.

CHAPTER 3
    â€œIf the mine was deliberately planted, how do you think the idomeni will react?” Lucien exited the Boul just as the early morning traffic slowed to the usual crawl. “Relations are tense now, but when haven’t they been?” He steered the Service-issue sedan onto the deceptive quiet of the Parkway, a graceful seclusion of town houses and apartment buildings separated by parks and scattered shops and restaurants. “Besides, we lost one of ours in this mess, too. That must count for something.”
    â€œNot really.” Jani took what she could from the beauty of