The only reason she turned to join the meeting, to hear the plans laid out to defeat the villainess at the heart of this trouble, was that Veti had asked it of her. Six words, riddled with so much pain, so much emotion, how could Siya say no? As she drifted silently to a chair all she could see was the face that Max, no, she supposed it was Thad, had borne as he lay still and dead. It was a stranger’s face but still somehow familiar as if some of the architecture was the same as had been possessed by Max. Her lip quivered and tears formed in the corners of her dark eyes but she did not let them spill. She had been told he could come back, but even so there was an instinctive reaction hard wired into her, he was dead, even despite her own evidence to the contrary, she feared he would not come back. But she held her grief inside and did not let it out. How could she do less than Veti? How could she not be strong, for Max? 

She settled down in her chair and absently smoothed out the blue skirt of the dress that had been donned in joy and now seemed so frivolous in the face of their loss. Her customary black would have been a much better choice it seemed. She tried to school her features, to don a mask and be a blank slate but she was unable. Folding her hands on her lap she watched and waited. She didn’t have long. 

Mr. Hoyle spoke first, reiterating how important it was to find the missing piece of eight, their original plan before the extent of the trouble was known. She nodded, it made sense. Then Mr. Bain was speaking and she turned to look at him, her face tightening just a little reflexively. Her dislike of her own kind was well established and largely unavoidable. His next string of words only further cemented her discomfort and unhappiness, her blood, her bloodline. Her unanswered questions from before came bubbling back to her and she felt a strange fear fill her. 

All that was eclipsed in a fit of pique as the Vampire head of the company then sought to soothe Atticus for her sake. Not soothe her, soothe Atticus. It was too much, too dismissive and she would not stand for it. Her eyes narrowed and she leaned forward, every inch the offended Princess. Her lips tightened into a scowl that was as furious as it was adorable and there was no mistaking the direction of her ire, it was all sent to Bain. When she spoke her tone was angry but respectful, she hadn’t lost her mind after all, just very nearly her temper. 

“If it will directly aid Max then I will submit, if not then we shall see. Regardless, there are some questions I have asked that as of yet have gone unanswered. Before I agree to anything I wish for those answers.”

She did not take her eyes off of Bain though she did make an effort to sit up straight and not lean forward so aggressively. [i]‘Temper, Siya,’[/i] she reminded herself. [i]‘Do not lose your temper, you might be of direct help to Max.’ [/i]

“So how it is that you know of my lineage when I myself did not? My sire did not survive the making of me thanks to Veti. So how is it you have this knowledge? How long have you had it and why am I only now being informed of it?”

She raised an eyebrow, cocked her head and waited, still bristling with ire.