Page 74 of Capitol Matters

Holland stood, perplexed, as I abandoned the dance floor. I’d catch up with her later, assuming these surprise guests didn’t derail my evening plans entirely. I took a direct route, pushing through the throng until I arrived tableside where the champagne fountain rained bubbly into tiers of fluted glasses.

Fortunately, no one else hovered near enough to hear me whisper-shout, “What the actual fuck?”

Ripley wore a look of practiced apathy as he turned toward my approach. “Ah, Fitch. Fancy seeing you here.”

My face contorted in a scowl. “I’msupposedto be here. You’re not. And it’s a little risky having her along, don’t you think?” I aimed an emphatic glance at the zombie girl.

Normally, I wouldn’t question Ripley’s ability to care for his undead darling but parading her into a room of Capitol snobs was risky by any standard. One whiff offorbidden magic could turn this crowd into a mob, and that was if someone didn’t get a good look at Ripley’s creepy mug first.

The teen flashed a tight smile. “Mags and I get up to all manner of mischief. Tonight, she wanted to show off her new dress.”

As if cued, Maggie stepped back from the small table and twirled to spread the skirt of her gown.

I nodded hastily. “Very pretty.”

Giggling, she threw herself onto Ripley’s shoulder and hung from him while he held my gaze with unflinching calm.

“Don’t bullshit me,” I told him. “What are you doing here?”

His exhale loosed the slightest wisp of smoke into the air. “I’m working, mate,” he said. “For the same boss as you. Try to keep that straight.”

I tensed as the fumes dispersed. Too little to do any damage, I told myself, though I wasn’t certain.

My attention traveled to the corner where Holland had joined Maximus and Thatcher. Sure enough, Thatcher looked back. He hadn’t warned me about any Bloody Hex plans in the works tonight. I could ask why, but assumed I would get the same dismissive answer about it being gang business and not mine.

My heartrate spiked as another thought occurred.

“Are the others here?” I hissed to Ripley. “Vinton? Avery? Donnie?”

The last one worried me most. The secret of my brother’s survival had already been spoiled, but I was more troubled by the thought of him keeping thingsfrom me.

“We came alone,” Ripley replied. “And we’ll be leaving shortly. I hear there’s to be a speech, and those things are so very tiresome.”

Stepping forward, he took an overflowing glass from the champagne fountain. He brought it in for a sniff before tipping it back for a mouthful that swelled his cheeks. He swished the drink like it was Listerine, stopping short of a gargle. When Maggie leaned in to snag a glass of her own, Ripley barred his arm to stop her, then spat the drink back into his cup. It had changed from the clear, yellowish color to a sickly sort of green.

“Come on, man,” I groaned. I was only vaguely put off until he dumped the regurgitated champagne back into the fountain.

With a cry of disgust, I staggered away.

Maggie blinked her red eyes absently.

I glowered at Ripley. “Why would you…?”

His magic was unlike anything I’d encountered before, but I knew enough about it to be suspicious of what I’d witnessed.

“What did you do?” I asked him.

Pulling the kerchief from his jacket pocket, Ripley dabbed the corner of his mouth.

“Seriously, what the hell was that?” I pressed but earned only silence in response.

Partygoers passed by, ferrying away glasses of tainted champagne.

“Don’t drink that!” I cautioned them, causing a commotion as Ripley deftly guided Maggie away.

I tried to halt the couple’s escape, but my mentallasso missed its target as a man jostled into me, reaching for drinks. I flung a hand toward him, knocking his glasses loose to spill, then shatter on the floor.

When I looked again, Ripley and Maggie had vanished into the crowd, leaving behind a spewing pot of poison. Was it plague? Was it worse?

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