“Poison," Dr. Hayes said, cool as tile. She held the cup up to the light. “Low-dose sedative. Enough to slow a wolf and blur a fighter. Not enough to kill." She looked at Veronica's pupils, then Lucas's bloody sleeve. “She's upright because spite is a circulatory system. Sit."
“I'm fine," Veronica said.
“You're vertical," Hayes said. “Different thing. You—" she pointed at Andrew “—bring me the girl who served this. Now."
Andrew nodded and vanished.
Lucas leaned on the counter like a man who understood waiting. “You were clever to sip," he told Veronica.
“Habit," Veronica said.
“And helpful," Dr. Hayes added. “It gave me a sample before adrenaline did its dance." She set the cup down. “I'll brew a counter. Sit."
Veronica sat.
The door banged. Andrew shoved a maid inside—small, shaki
