"Damn—" Inaia hissed, "everybody knows the Governor is a woman except us, huh?"
Eotigan chuckled. "It would seem so, subservíena." Her hand was in his, small as a coral leaf. It nestled in his palm. In the posh interior of the [shuttle wagon], they enjoyed the cool air and noir ambiance of the perpetual fall weather. Inaia had reacted to the fact that even their conservative driver knew of the power tousle among the elite of Colony.
Yet, 'mum' was the word on this ominous island of midnight icicles—they called buildings. As its meteorology, so were its people apparently. Hush hush. You'd never guess to find a vampire this far out into the Cold Sea. Nor a homosexual one. But since Emberfall, surprise could as well be welcome in the many tales and travels of the Apollyon.
