“I’m certain you have ways of finding out almost anything about me,” Klio replied.
He shrugged. “Yes, but I’d prefer to hear what you have to say about yourself. For instance, the Coven believed your kind no longer existed. Too many generations of intermarriage with mortals. It’s gone that way for most creatures outside the factions.”
“The bloodline has been diluted,” Klio said. “But on rare occasions the old traits manifest. Some choose to keep those qualities hidden, but my grandmother encouraged me to embrace my heritage. She knew that it would require a life of isolation, but I agreed with her. I preferred to leave my home rather than suppress my powers.”
“Your man — the djinn.” Stuart rubbed at the stubble on his chin absentmindedly. “Is it the same for him?”
“Yes.” Klio ground her teeth at Stuart’s description of Whitby as “her man” for the second time despite having corrected him. She and Whitby had been drawn to each other because of their shared histories. Both of them were relics of days past, abandoned by family. Forsaken by the world.
“Was it difficult to find your way?” Stuart asked. Something flickered in his gaze. Klio wouldn’t have named it sympathy. “Sixteen is young for someone to have already established the professional repute you possess.”
“Every life faces its trials at some point,” Klio said, keeping her expression passive. “Mine came earlier than most, but I have thrived nonetheless.”
Klio’s powers had manifested in the twelfth year of her life, the same night her belly cramped and she woke with blood on her underclothes. Coming of age hadn’t been the beginning of a transformation from girl to woman. It had marked the moment at which she would no longer be part of the family she’d known but would walk in a different world. Apart. And, until she met Whitby, alone.
Stuart’s gaze shifted to Klio’s arms, sheathed from fingertip to elbow by silk gloves. “May I see them?”
“I’m a professional, Hamilton.” Klio smoothed her skirt before folding her hands on her lap. “Not a performer.”
“That’s a shame.” He sighed.
Klio smiled for the first time since she’d arrived in Stuart’s cabin. “You’re the only person I know who has longed to see what my gloves keep hidden.”
“But those who’ve had the privilege to see —” Stuart’s eyes were alight with eagerness. “Do they find your secret to be marvelous?”
“I don’t know, Hamilton. They’re all dead.”
Whitby had gone by the time Klio returned to her cabin.
Klio stood in the middle of her sitting room, feeling a twinge of disappointment. Though he played the role of servant, Whitby was much more of a partner. He scouted and strategized with her before she entered the field of combat. While she fulfilled a contract, he acted as her eyes and ears around the perimeter of any kill site. Ever alert, Whitby secured the locations in which Klio did her work. Should she get into trouble, he would come to her aid. If Whitby had deemed it necessary to begin his surveillance of the steamboat immediately, Klio didn’t doubt his judgment, but she would have taken comfort in conversation with her closest friend before the work of the night began. Selfishly, she’d also hoped to steal a few moments of laughter at the expense of the snobbish Mr. Stuart. Klio and Whitby had little regard for the archaic customs and exclusivity of the factions. Mr. Stuart was the embodiment of all those traits they found intolerable, but that shared dislike could have offered a much-needed reprieve ahead of what would be a span of tense hours as the night grew long.
Despite the taciturn nature Whitby presented to the outside world, to Klio he was confidant, adviser, and irreplaceable man-at-arms . . . so to speak. Although clients contracted for Klio’s services, she split payment evenly with Whitby. Like his djinn ancestors, Whitby commanded magics that could mold the perceptions and actions of those around him. He could more than hold his own in a fight. But the Fortuna was a far different arena from those in which they usually battled. If Whitby came by information Klio needed, he would find her. She needn’t waste her time worrying about anything else.
Klio changed her clothes and went back to Stuart’s quarters. Talbot opened the door, and upon entering, Klio found her client freshly shaved and boasting a head of neatly combed hair. He shrugged on his jacket.
“I trust all is well, Miss Vesper?”