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"Stoking the fires of rebellion?" he suggested.
"Something like that," I agreed.
"It is possible," he said slowly. "That donation might have helped. With Hades's blessing, the grumbles will die back down."
"And if they don't?" I sensed I was walking on territory I should avoid, but I couldn't seem to stop myself. Story of my life.
"Then I'll deal with it," he assured me.
"Do you really think Slade is behind it all?" I asked. I caught the jerk of Kerina's head, as if she wanted to hear our conversation better.
"I don't know," he admitted. "I have people looking into it. Whatever is going on, we'll get to the bottom of it. At least we know to be careful for a while. I became complacent and that could have cost you your life. I'm sorry about that." His regret seemed genuine.
"Shit happens," I said. "I don't think they would have been deterred, regardless of anything you or Bain might have done."
"Possibly," he said. "I would prefer if an esteemed guest wasn't killed while under my protection. If nothing else, it's terrible hospitality."
I smiled and glanced toward the hard packed road ahead. "I would prefer not to be killed while I'm here either. Or anytime soon. I feel like…"
"Like what?"
I turned back to face him. "I feel more at home here than I did with the Council. People reply when I speak. And most people don't look at me like I'm a piece of cat shit on the bottom of their foot."
Dex grinned. "You're definitely not cat shit. Cat shifter, maybe?"
He was fishing, but I had no answer for him. If I could shift, I didn't know what it would be. If I had to guess, I think maybe some kind of dog. A chihuahua, knowing my luck.
"That's for Hades to know," I said finally. "He might share that information someday. At any rate, thank you. It's nice to feel like I have some control over my life." A little bit, at least. I could have stayed back at the residence, for example, but I wouldn't miss seeing dragons up close any more than Dex or Bain would.
Dex smiled warmly. "That's excellent. I'm pleased to hear it. One thing surprises me though."
"Oh, what's that?" I asked.
"Most newcomers want to know more about the Vault. You jumped on a train in the middle of Sydney and ended up here. You must have a million questions."
"I am curious," I admitted. "It feels like another world. Is it?"
"Not as such," he replied. "Back when shifters and witches hated each other a little less, the witches created a bubble of power. It took dozens of them and almost killed a few. It created a…" He searched for the words. "A compressed version of the world outside. Distorted too, obviously. Hence the desert. The witches declared it a failure and abandoned it. The shifters moved in and we've been here ever since. Every hundred or so years, the bubble needs to be reinforced."
"If it's not?" I asked.
"It collapses," he said. "Fortunately, it takes less power to reinforce it than it did to make it. Also fortunately, we don't have to kidnap any witches and force them to help, like last time." He frowned. "Or was it the time before?" He waved a hand. "It doesn't matter. It's history now."
"That might explain why witches don't like shifters," I said dryly.
"It really might," he agreed, as though he hadn't thought about that before. "It might also explain your existence."
I did a double take. "What?"
"Those witches were kept in the Vault," he said simply. "In case they were needed."
"So," I said slowly, "one might have met a hot shifter, fallen in love and had a fully consensual relationship."
"That might have happened," he agreed, obviously humouring me.
No one wanted to think they were the product of sexual assault no matter how many generations back it went.
"And then one left one day and rejoined the witches." Or got given away, like the Covener tried to do to me.
