My heels clanked against the concrete flooring as I walked through the Club, my heartbeat accelerating with each step. The beat overwhelmed the place, and people were kidnapped by it, forced to move. Red tendrils of smoke danced in the air, meeting and breaking apart. Lights exchanged before my eyes. The music pumped around me – strong, yet sensuous.

Whenever I talked to Dorian, there were things I wanted to prove.

Him and I weren't the same. He was a manipulative, conniving bastard who used people for his own gain. He was a ruthless vampire without empathy for human life.

Maybe I was wrong.

People danced around me, shielding me from view, and I had to elbow my way through the crowd, but I knew exactly where I was going.

Maybe we weren't all that different.

I was a liar too. Manipulative. Conniving.

Our eyes locked from across the club. The red hues exchanged with the golden ones across his face, changing the colour of his eye from deep dark purple to golden blue with each beat. He stopped in the middle of the sentence when he saw me, and the two men standing next to him glanced in my direction confused.

They were both tall and bearded, dressed in dark grey, and they looked like brothers. They were also vampires, and they wanted everyone to know, judging by the fangs peeking behind their thin lips.

Dorian wore a black suit with no tie, the first button of his black shirt loose. There was a brown-coloured drink in his right hand and what appeared to be a joint in his left. He mouthed 'excuse me' to the men around him, but didn't move an inch. Their glances jumping from Dorian to me, they left seconds before I reached him.

Even if I hated to admit it, there was something titillating in the way everyone noticed me because Dorian noticed me. He commanded the room in such a way that everyone was constantly aware of whether he was present, who he talked to, who he looked at.

I stopped before him, too aware of the short black dress I had on. The same dress I wore the day I walked back into his life, demanding to be listened to, obliged. Dorian looked over my outfit shamelessly and raised his eyebrow.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you're using this dress to get something from me."

My heart pounded annoyingly against my ribcage.

"I'm surprised you aren't surrounded by strippers." I kept my voice low, half-hoping he wouldn't hear me through the music.

"Did your boyfriend survive?" He asked.

"Yes." I nodded, ignoring the pang in my throat. "Which means he's not my boyfriend anymore."

Dorian looked like he wanted to ask more, his lips parted and he took in a sharp breath, but changed his mind before words left his lips, and switched them to something else, something either safer or more dangerous.

"What are you doing here?"

I bit the inside of my cheek before answering, "We need to talk."

Dorian nodded with slight reluctance, then gestured towards the burgundy-coloured curtains covering the hardwood lacquered door.

"Kindly join me in my stripper area."

Despite myself, I snickered.

Dorian opened the door for me and let me step through. It was his office, and it was empty, but someone had clearly been there. Empty glasses, smudged with lipstick, littered the wooden table, the ashtray was full of cigarette butts, and a silver platter covered with fingertips rested in between the mess. Dorian pushed the empty glasses aside to make room for his half-full one and put the joint in the ashtray. I stared at the leather armchair, remembering the last time I was in this room.

When his hands were around my neck.

It turned harder to breathe in.

"Pălincă?" His accent came out when he said the word.

"Please." I murmured, eager to wash down the hammering pain in my throat.

I did not sit down while Dorian poured me the drink. My nerves didn't allow me to sit still, so I paced back and forth around the room, crossing my hands on my chest and then deciding that felt unnatural. Having them loosely fall down my sides felt wrong too.

Dorian handed the glass to me, "What do you want to talk about?"

I took the glass and stared at the clear liquor, knowing my next sentence would change the atmosphere in the room, and deciding I wasn't drunk enough for that. So, I downed the drink, and it burned all the way down my throat, until settling into quiet sizzling in my stomach. Dorian cocked his head with curiosity.

"I want my necklace back."

My entire body pounded with anticipation as Dorian's expression switched form confusion to understanding.

"You gave it to me as an offer of truce." My mouth turned dry. "It's only fair I have it... if we're at truce."

Dorian stood very still, staring straight at me, his expression empty, emotions hidden.

"Are we at truce?" He asked finally, giving me no insight into how he felt about this. "I thought you said we could never be at truce."

I had the speech prepared. I stood in front of my mirror for thirty minutes, practicing what I'd say, how I'd get him back on my side. Now, standing in front of him, it felt once again like he had complete control.

"And I thought you wouldn't give up so soon." I swallowed the building anxiety.

Finally, he chuckled, "So you've changed your mind. I assume you figured out what you want then."

"I want back on the Council." I admitted, needing to cut this conversation short, needing to get out of this hot room.

Dorian met my gaze, "Why?"

"Because I miss it."

When he heard this, something sparked in his eyes.

"I fucking miss it." My shoulders relaxed, and a shudder went through my spine. "All of it. Dresses, balls, money. I want it back. I want back what's mine."

A smile crept to Dorian's lips, and he took a step forward. I had no idea what he'd do, and I found myself unable to move as he took the glass from my hand. Aside from his fingers briefly brushing mine, he's done nothing but headed for the liquor cabinet.

"What do I get out of this truce?" Dorian asked while he poured me another drink. "For your information, your father has already demanded I marry Libby sooner. Once that marriage is sealed, so is my seat on the Council."

A shot in the dark.

"You want to be the next Chief." I stated, sounding way more convinced than I truly was. "Marrying Libby might get you on the Council, but it won't make you Chief."

Dorian faced me, my drink in his hand.

"Let's say, for the argument's sake, that I want to be the next Chief." He kept our gazes locked, and I couldn't look away. "Wouldn't helping me be a... conflict of interest for you? Considering you also want to be the next Chief."

My heartbeat quickened. I felt like I was standing in front of closed door, putting my hand on the handle, and finally facing whatever waited on the other side. I said I wouldn't dance with the devil, but the rhythm was pulling me and he had damn good moves.

"Here's the thing." I took a step closer, tapping into some of my old moves too. "If you and I team up, we'll eventually have to fight each other. But if we're against each other now, one of us will eventually have to fight Edmond. I don't know about you, but between you and Edmond, I'd rather lose to you."

Dorian hadn't been this amused in front of me since I told him about my secret identity, Sonya Solovyova. All possible schemes churned behind his dark blue irises, and he couldn't contain the mischievous smile dragging up the corners of his lips.

"Between you and Edmond..." He spoke. "I'd rather lose to you too."

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.

"Then we agree."

"You're with me until you're against me." He said, and just like that, none of us had to hide our smiles because they evaporated once the realisation sunk in.

"I'm with you until I'm against you." I repeated with a nod.

Suddenly, he turned away from me, and if I hadn't known better, I'd think he was trying to hide his face. He busied himself putting both glasses back on the table.

"I can't get you back on the Council." He said. "I can only get you a conversation with the Chief. You have to get the rest done yourself."

He would agree. He would.

"I know." I nodded quickly, my heart beating steadily.

"Do you know something I don't?" Dorian faced me again, causing me to almost stumble with the sudden alertness in his gaze.

He survived by knowing everything, by finding out secrets and using them in the best possible moment. He knew about the hunters, but hasn't told anything to my father or Edmond. I could still use that titbit of information to gain sympathy from my father. But I – and Dorian – knew I needed more to sit back on that seat. And he wanted me to share. A test of our shaky truce. Would he use it before I managed to? Would he use it to cement my future as an outsider?

And then it hit me.

What stopped him from ratting out Jax? Or Lucia?

I trusted him with their lives. Whenever I had nowhere to go, I went to Dorian. Of all the people I knew, he was the only one who always picked up the phone, no matter how much I claimed to hate him and he claimed to hate me back.

"They know about us." I whispered. "The hunters know about us. Not the Elders. Us."

To my surprise, Dorian smiled.

"That's very good." His voice was so self-satisfied it almost sounded sensual. "For you and me."

My stomach upturned, "You knew."

Dorian shrugged, "I heard whispers."

"And you didn't use it." I shook my head.

"As I said, Odette..." He lifted the two glasses of the table and gave one to me. "I want you back on that seat, and there's no one I'd rather go to war with."

I breathed in with sudden relief, and my fingers curled around the glass.

"But-" He held the glass tightly once I tried to take it.

Panic shot through me, "Dorian..."

"What's the magic word?"

My fingers remained on the glass, and I found myself staring at our hands. Our fingers nearly brushed. When I glanced up, I found his eyes on me.

"I'm sorry." I said, words rolling off my tongue not with ease, but with a rush.

Not like I wanted to say it quickly and get it over with, but like those words begged to be let out. My entire soul braced itself for the repercussions of the apology, wondering what other unsaid truths would stumble out now, but Dorian let the glass go and took a step back.

"Thank you." He simply said, making me realise there were things he hasn't faced himself either. "I'll call your father first thing in the morning and tell him I've changed my vote. You can go talk to him then."

Unexpected fear rushed through me. Okay, Okay. I could do that.

"Thank you." I swallowed. "Let me know what he-"

"A car will pick you up." Dorian turned away from me, leaving me awkwardly standing with the glass in my hand he hasn't clinked.

Oh. This was my cue to leave.

It was a damn weird feeling, and I hated my idiotic heart for conjuring it up, but somehow, I thought us being at truce would mean conspiring and scheming until the early morning hours. Immediately, I was slapped with another realisation. If I weren't fighting him, I didn't know how to behave around him. With a sigh, I downed the drink and headed for the door.

"Well, I'll see you around, Dorian."

"Ette."

I stopped, still facing the door.

"How about a proper drink?"