And as soon as she walked out of the lounge, she felt more glances sliding away from her, all eyes going elsewhere… especially those of the unmated males smoking cigars over in the corner.

Just before she turned her back on the ball, she caught Havers's stare through the crowd. He nodded and smiled sadly, as if he knew she couldn't stay a moment longer.

Dearest brother, she thought. He had always supported her, had never given any indication he was ashamed of how she had turned out. She would have loved him for their shared parents, but she adored him for his loyalty most of all.

With a last look at the glymera in all its glory, she went to her room. After a quick shower, she changed into a simpler floor-length dress and lower-heeled shoes, then went down the mansion's back stairs.

Untouched and unwanted she could deal with. If that was the fate the Scribe Virgin laid upon her, so be it. There were far worse lives to be led, and bemoaning what she lacked, considering all she had, was boring and selfish.

What she couldn't handle was being purposeless. Thank God that she had her position on the Princeps Council and that her seat was secure by virtue of her bloodline. But there was also another way to leave a positive mark on her world.

As she keyed in a code and unlocked a steel door, she envied the couples dancing at the other end of the mansion and probably always would. Except that was not her destiny.

She had other paths to walk.

Chapter Two

Butch walked out of ZeroSum at three forty-five, and though the Escalade was parked in the back, he headed in the opposite direction. He needed air. Jesus… he needed air.

The middle of March was still winter so far as upstate New York was concerned, and the night was meat-locker cold. Butch walked alone down Trade Street, his breath leaving his mouth in white clouds and drifting over his shoulder. The chill and the isolation suited him: He was hot and crowded even though he'd left the club's crush of people behind.