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The woman’s heavily mascaraed eyes bulged. Despite the silver hair, she was young, still in her twenties. She nodded without speaking.
“Who is she?” I asked Zoe without taking my gaze from her.
“Lainey Q. My stylist for the ball.”
I glanced at Zoe. “So what’s she doing in Paris?”
“I don’t know.” Zoe turned a glacial look on the stylist. “Spying on us?”
A chill crawled up my spine. Had Victorine already traced us to Paris?
“Talk.” I squeezed the woman’s throat. “And it had better be good. Because there’s no way this is a coincidence.”
“But—” Lainey Q gasped for breath and tried to pry my fingers loose. She was turning blue at the lips.
I eased up the pressure. “Go ahead.”
Her chest heaved. She inhaled noisily.
“Itisa coincidence,” she said in a scratchy voice. “I swear it.” She looked at Zoe. “I’m not spying on you. I didn’t even know you were in Paris.”
“Let me.” Zoe angled forward, staring into the woman’s frightened eyes.
I nodded and shifted sideways without releasing my grip.
“You’re going to tell me exactly what I want.” Zoe’s voice took on a seductive cadence. “Aren’t you, Lainey Q?”
The young woman’s throat worked. “Stop it,” she rasped.
Zoe repeated the same words, weaving a compulsion.
Lainey resisted. She had a stronger will than you’d expect, looking at her.
Zoe kept up the pressure. “Look at me, Lainey.”
Lainey’s gaze darted from side to side, then back to Zoe. Her face slackened. This time, she didn’t look away.
“That’s good,” said Zoe. “Now, talk. Why are you in Paris? I thought you were going home to L.A.”
“I changed my mind,” she said in an expressionless voice. “The prima gave me a bonus and I decided to come to Paris.”
“Why?”
“To shop.”
I opened my mouth to ask what else, but Zoe beat me to it. The easiest way to fight compulsion is to give truthful answers, just not the whole truth. Most humans didn’t have the strength to fight us even that much, but slayers are trained to resist compulsion.
“Lainey?” Zoe prodded. “Why else did you come to Paris? Did Victorine send you?”
Her gaze swung to me. “Can’t…breathe,” she said.
I released my grip on her. She sucked in oxygen and tried to sidle away. I blocked her, but it was clear the compulsion Zoe had set on her had been broken.
I waited until she was breathing normally, then fingered her throat.
“We’re hungry.” I let my vampire into my eyes. “I wouldn’t fuck with us. It makes us edgy.”
“Fine.” She expelled a breath. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Olivier invited me to Paris. We left before the ball was over—I swear, I didn’t even know you were missing.” Lainey looked at Zoe. “But by the time we got here, everyone was looking for you. He patted me on the ass and told me to go home.” She pouted. “We didn’t even have a night out together. And he promised he’d take me to the Talon Haut Rouge.”
