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Inside, the conversation was deafening Veronique’s arrival was greeted with cheers These turned into catcalls when Marcus appeared behind her

“Late to work, citizen?” her patrons teased “Up at the crowing of the cock, Veronique?”

“What’s wrong with you, boy?” soloos?”

Veronique sailed through the roo kisses on the cheeks of her favorites and accepting congratulations on the successful anize

“Liberty!” a woman called from the counter where drinks were served

“Fraternity!” the ood-natured shove fro over the brim of the cup Veronique served every kind of liquid refreshment a creature could desire—wine, coffee, tea, ale, chocolate, and even blood The one thing she refused to serve ater

Her custo vessels—dented tin and heavier pewter, fine glass and glowing copper, rough pottery and delicate porcelain—on tables, sills, the counter, walls, the backs of chairs, stools, and even on the skulls of nearby patrons

Marcus grinned He was not the only one drawn to Veronique’s fire and passion

“Equality!” Veronique cried, holding her fist in the air

Marcus watched the cro her up, everyone eager to hear what she had seen at the palace, and how the royal family had responded, and whether it was true that Veronique spoke to the queen

Marcus no longer panicked when his skin prickled and his hackles rose to alert him that that there was another predator nearby He had been a va, capable of feeding hier weighed on hirandfather and Ysabeau in Greek, and debated philosophy with his father in Latin

“Hello, Matthew” Tonight, however, Marcus spoke in English, a language that he and his father shared but that was beyond the reach of the ordinary Parisians who filled La Ruche He turned

Mattheas sitting in a dark corner, as usual, sipping wine out of Veronique’s finest glass His waistcoat was the color of soot and eray and silver thread The plain white shirt he wore underneath was immaculate, as were the silk hose that extended from knee to polished shoes Marcus wondered how h to feed a faht for a year or more in this part of town

“You’re overdressed,” Marcus saidhis father’s bench “You should have donned your leather apron and brought a hammer and chisel if you wanted to blend in”

The ely twisted, the angles of cheek and mouth set in a fleshy imitation of the tavern’s s Dark, deeply set eyes studied Marcus fro and his clothes were simple and made of thick, serviceable fabric

“Jean-Paul!” Marcus was surprised to see Marat sharing a drink with his father He wasn’t aware they knew each other

“Marcus” Maratabout death Do you know Dr Guillotin?”

The doctor inclined his head He was dressed in soh the material was expensive and the coat well cut Guillotin’s dark eyebrows and the shadow at his jawline suggested there was dark hair under his powdered wig

“Only by reputation” Marcus wished he had ordered a drink first “Dr Franklin always spoke highly of you, sir”

Guillotin extended his hand to Marcus Marat eyed them both suspiciously and then buried his nose in his tin cup

Marcus took the doctor’s hand and felt the shifting pressure in his grip that confirmed what Marat suspected: Guillotin was a Freemason, like Marcus Like Matthew Like Franklin That meant that Guillotin knew about creatures, and about vampires in particular

“Marcus often assisted Dr Franklin in his laboratory,” Matthew said “He is a surgeon, and interested in medical matters”

“Like father, like son,” Guillotin said “And you are a physician, too, Dr Marat How fortunate that I came upon my old friend the chevalier”

No one came upon Matthew de Clermont by chance Marcus wondered what constellation of influences had placed Matthew in Guillotin’s path

“The doctor is trying to reforely in his contorted nasal cavities “He has picked the oddest place to begin Dr Guillotin wants to give criminals a quicker, more humane death”

Marcus parted the tails of his coat and sat on the bench God, he needed a drink The pleasant hours he’d had with Veronique faded into ate the tricky waters of this conversation

“Perhaps, Doctor, we could get rid of death altogether The chevalier de Clermont could make us all immortal, if he wanted” Marat, as a daemon and should know better than to bait Matthew, pressed the matter further “But true equality wouldn’t suit the va?”

“Oh, I think ould always keep a few daemons around—for amusement if not nourishment,” Matthew said quietly “Like the fools and jesters of old”

Marat flushed He was sensitive about both his sers scratched at his neck, where a rash bloomed red and pink

“I oppose capital punishment, as you know, Monsieur Marat,” Guillotin said “But if we must put criminals to death, let it be quick and painless And let it be done in a regular, reliable fashion”

“I’m not sure God means death to be painless,” Marcus said He searched the rooht his eye, and her mouth dropped open in astonish

“Improvements need to be made to these mechanical executioners,” Guillotin continued, as if Marcus had not spoken His real audience was Mattheas listening attentively “They have engines of death in England and Scotland, but the axes are crude and crush the spine and tear the head from the body”

Marat’s fingers dug deeper into his skin, vainly searching for relief fro Matthew’s nostrils flared as blood rushed to the surface, and Marcus watched as his father pushed back the appetites that plagued all vampires The chevalier de Clermont was fah Marat was his friend, and a dae of his blood still made Marcus’s mouth water

“I need to speak to you” Mattheas suddenly next to him, his lips close to Marcus’s ear

Reluctantly, Marcus left Marat and Guillotin It was not the conversation thathis sudden thirst Matthew led hi down blood ine She handed a tall beaker to Marcus

“Drink,” she said, looking worried Marcus was still too young to be fully trustworthy in a crowd of warmbloods

Mattheaited until Marcus had sed down half the liquid before he spoke

“I think you should stay away from Marat He’s trouble,” Matthew advised

“Then so am I, for we share the sa “You can order me around, make me study the law, restricta job, but you cannot choose my friends”

“If you persist, you’ll be suain, Matthew had switched to English It was a coe to another in an attempt to speak more privately

“Grandfather doesn’t care what I do” Marcus took another sip “He has bigger fish to catch than Jean-Paul or me”

“There is no such thing as a s a revolution,” Matthew replied “Any creature who causes a ripple, no e the course of events You know that, Marcus”

Maybe, but Marcus had no intention of conceding to his father’s demands This city was his ho poor of Paris in a way he never did perched on a silk-covered chair in Ysabeau’s salon or attending an aristocratic ball with Fanny e, the conversation was deafening Veronique’s arrival was greeted with cheers These turned into catcalls when Marcus appeared behind her