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As others fell over themselves to grab his attention, I pivoted for the abandoned bar.

Expensive champagne bubbled down my throat as a classic blonde beauty saddled up to my side. She was middle-aged, with hardly a wrinkle gracing her skin, her demure nature in complete contrast to her piercing blue eyes—eyes that pinpointed onto my outright appraisal.

She lifted her glass in a silent cheers and sculled the contents down in one continuous gulp.

“Impressive.” I lifted a hand to call the bartender for another when she shook her head and leant back against the counter, us two lone souls remaining on the outskirts, watching the catastrophe that was the elite of Junction City.

“I hate this place,” she said, releasing a shiver.

“They don’t seem to agree.” I tipped my chin at the growing flock of vultures circling Mayor Oakview. “It actually looks like they’re enjoying themselves.” Boisterous laughter cued right on time.

I leant in and whispered, “Absolute morons.”

She snickered, and the action made me pause, the sound transient, however oddly familiar.

I shifted closer, my attention piqued. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

Her features shifted. “You don’t kn—”

“Alison, there you are,” Mayor Oakview interrupted, careening for the blonde at my side. Her transformation was immediate. All traces of amusement disappeared, a smoothed, uptight mask taking place. Not one morsel of her previous persona was present. A perfectly manicured socialite was all that remained.

He approached, wearing a gleaming professional smile, brown eyes settling on me. He was handsome, impeccably tailored, supremely polished…and yet, I wasn’t impressed.

Mayor Oakview gave a shallow bow, his greying black hair flashing in the luminescent light. “Hello, my name is Arthur Oakview. I’m at a loss. I don’t think we’ve met?”

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Olivia Chaser.”

Although his expression remained polite, his eyes roamed over my lips with unashamed hunger. My Variant sparked at the onslaught and a bitter taste lingered in the back of my throat.

A figure pushed through the bystanders and Mayor Oakview was rocked off-balance. Burner had inadvertently pushed into his side while attempting to wedge himself closer.

“Let me introduce you,” he announced. “This is Doctor Chaser. She is our newest recruit and resident psychiatrist. She has been working wonders with the patients here.” The flamboyant statement was followed by overzealous ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’.

Mayor Oakview smiled and pressed a kiss to the back of my hand. “Thank you for your service, Doctor,” he purred. “I look forward to talking with you further about Oakview Asylum and the great work that you’re doing here.”

I relented, giving a subtle nod. Manoeuvring out of his hold, I sipped from my full champagne flute, swallowing the bile that salivated my mouth.

Mayor Oakview turned to the lady he called Alison, offering an arm. “Come now, wife, it’s time for my speech.” She placed her hand in the crook of his arm and her brow slightly furrowed, internally cringing as if she found his touch as repulsive as I did.

Her stare flicked to me as they passed, golden amber eyes clashing against a sea of vibrant blue, their depths flashing with some form of recognition. Who was she?

“A pleasure meeting you, Alison,” I said. Her lips gave a miniscule twitch in acknowledgement and with the couple’s departure, the rest followed.

The political duo ascended the podium as if it were a throne. They made an attractive pair, both regal and majestic, screaming old money and upper class. Men and women alike either hated them or wanted to be them, the potency of their writhing jealousy carving daggers into my skin.

The smell of pungent perfume alerted me to Katsy’s presence before she leant into my side.

“I can’t believe it. Tell me you’re going to get his number,” she said in a scandalised voice, pretending to whisper, when in reality everyone in the immediate vicinity overheard her.

The quartet ceased their playing and the room hushed in awe, prepared for his speech.

He spoke of the usual nonsense, the furthering of our great city and what he was doing to contribute to the masses. His words didn’t register for me, more so the way he held himself. Arthur spoke clearly, assertively and had nil qualms talking publicly, each person hanging off his every word.

“It was five generations ago when our ancestors donated this family castle to the people,” Arthur proclaimed, swishing a hand in the air. “I am pleased to see this historical site thriving and being utilised in a way that is beneficial to all citizens of Junction City.”

Katsy giggled, the alcohol giving the sound a vicious edge. “Not his ancestors.”

“What do you mean?”

Her eyes lit up with the knowledge of knowing information that I didn’t. “He married into that name and lineage. He was nobody when he met his wife. He isn’t even an Oakview. Alison is.”

Arthur continued on. “I guarantee that greater measures will be put in place to catalogue and ensure safety from Variant violence and immorality.” His gaze travelled over the crowd, always returning back to hold my own.

Katsy gasped. “Oh my god, he is eye fucking you right now. In front of everyone.”

I huffed in return when a flippant shadow caught my eye. One of the Mayor’s guards, hidden behind the thick white drape bordering the podium.

As if a phantom wind heard my call, the fabric brushed open and my body was overtaken by a blistering chill. Trembles racked my frame and my chest tightened, lungs spasming from the lack of air that I couldn’t choke down my closing throat.

Oscar Masatino.

A man made of full flesh and bone, when he was supposed to be ash and dust in the fucking wind. How did my father’s enforcer and close friend end up a security guard for the Mayor of Junction City?

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

My legs were pushing me forward before I could even register moving. My crystal flute crushed within my grip, champagne and glass flowing to the floor. The fractured stem remained between my fingers, staining red from the cuts on my flesh, the pain a welcome reminder to stay in reality and not get lost in my Variant.

Instead of heads swerving my way, they were redirected to a commotion at the main entrance. High-pitched cackling and fearful screams splintered off the walls.

Are sens

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