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Corliss smiles and takes another delicate sip. "Did I raise a cynic of a neonate?"

You nod and follow her lead. The blood is instantly refreshing. "Always questioning, never taking anything at face value."

"Of course you're playing coy as well. You never actually answered my question. Do you believe her story?"

"It's hard to say. There were no witnesses."

"But what do you think, Mekuztli?"

Corliss nods. "Then we are both of the same mind, childe. This is good."

Something in her tone makes you think of your earlier conversation with Ophelia and Kashif. "I spoke with Mr. Salik and Ophelia not long ago," you say.

Corliss sighs. "I saw you. What of it? I doubt the Assassin had anything pleasant to say to a childe of mine."

"He wanted me to tell you that he was attacked in his haven by mortals during the day."

"A pity," Corliss says. "Although it appears he made it through unscathed. But this is more than just threatening notes; I'll have to start taking him seriously, more's the pity. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Mekuztli."

Alisha squeezes past you to take a glass from the table, the Diva's perfect curls bobbing and dancing inches from your face. Corliss clears her throat. "We were in the middle of a private conversation, Ms. Grey."

"Of course," Alisha replies with questionable sincerity. "I had something to mention, but it can wait." Before you can ask her to elaborate, she's waded back into the crowd again, a single glass flute perched delicately in her right hand, its carmine contents placid despite the speed of her long-legged gait.

"Uggh," Corliss grunts. "I've met Ferals more polite, and yet somehow she always manages to win us all over in the end. At least she runs a clean Elysium." She shakes her head.