Page 7 of Dancing with Daggers

"The Tower please," she told her driver and put her head in her hands.

It had been eight weeks, four days, and five hours since she had been overwhelmed by her memories. They usually came on her during times of stress. She had no idea a painting could trigger her like that.

Zia stared at the city through the dark tinted glass. One day, she was going to find the bastard. She would get enough wealth and power behind her that when she killed him, she would be untouchable.

Until then, Zia would manage her demons alone, just like always. She fought the urge to ring Asteria. She wasn't allowed to contact anyone from her regular life during the job. It was for their protection, as well as hers.

Besides, Asteria had just dealt with her own enemies and had become the bride of one of the most powerful Blood Lords in the city. Zia had already been under contract when it happened, and she was yet to have the 'what the fuck were you thinking?' conversation with her best friend.

Not that Zia really blamed her. She had seen Mercury Amulius at a council meeting she had attended with Corven. He was ancient, powerful, and hot as hell. Her bestie had done well.

Zia rested her burning forehead against the cool window glass. No, she couldn't risk calling Asteria. She just needed a shower and a new set of clothes. She had a party to go to, and if the lunch was anything to go off, she would have to be on her toes for poison drinks and gods knew what else.

5

The sun was going down when someone knocked on Zia's door. She had showered and was curling her hair for the party that night. She felt better after a few hours by herself, but there was no rest for the wicked.

"Open the door!" Emilia shouted through the wood.

Zia opened the door and had a garment bag thrust at her.

"Here, put this on. We have to leave soon," Emilia said, sailing into the apartment.

"Um, okay? Are we... Are we cool?" Zia asked. She wasn't stupid enough to turn her back on the young dhampir for a second. Emilia brushed her long hair back over her slender shoulder.

"We are cool if you apologize about that slut Cleo having a better account than me," she replied.

Zia fought not to laugh in her face. Instead, she accepted the peace offering. "I'm sorry. She's nowhere near as good as you or as pretty. I only said that in self-defense. I really would like for us to get along. We are family, after all."

Emilia sniffed. "Yeah, we are. The others will baby you, but I won't. People in this family have died, and my bet is it was one of the siblings. We aren't nice people. You are, and you don't belong here."

Truth. Well, no surprise there.

"I know, but I still want to be here," Zia replied. She took the garment bag into the bedroom and unzipped it. She was relieved it wasn't skintight latex like Emilia was wearing.

Instead, it was a dark purple velvet dress that came to her knees. It had a sweetheart neckline that was edged in a trim of black lace. Zia noted that it made her tits look great and accentuated her hourglass shape perfectly. She walked out to where Emilia was pouring herself a drink.

"This is actually really beautiful," Zia admitted.

"Why are you so surprised? I knew your shape and what would complement you best," Emilia replied with a slight shrug of her shoulders.

"You made this? In an afternoon? That's incredible!"

"It's nothing. I can sew quickly, and this is a basic design." Emilia was being blasé about it, but Zia could see she was pleased. That was her in.

"You shouldn't be fucking about with influencing, Emilia. You should be in design school."

"Oh, my gods, shut up. Really, it's not a big deal. It's a hobby," Emilia replied, tapping her long nails against the counter. "Besides, I don't think I'm good enough to get into a school on my designs alone. I won't pay for my position, and I don't want the person making the decisions to be too scared to say no to my application if I don't have the talent."

Truth.

"You should submit under a fake name, and once you're in, you can reveal who you are."

Emilia sighed. "Are you always this positive and relentless?"

"Only about stuff that matters. I won't shut up about it until I can convince you."

"Subject change. What are you going to do about your face?" Emilia asked and followed Zia into the bathroom. And just like that, Zia knew she had won her over.