The Anathema Read Online Free Page B

three of them, back at the Academy,” she mused, clearly talking to herself. “I suppose the Hegemony has finally lost faith in Emily, and now they’re bringing in the big guns. Grigori, Chandi, and Hope.”
    “Chandi wasn’t with them,” Renton said, shaking his head. “It was Hope and Grigori, and some other guy I didn’t recognize.”
    “She is at the Academy somewhere,” Anastasia said, pausing to glance at a mirror on the wall and make minor adjustments to her intricately styled hair. “Chandi is the only Hegemony precognitive powerful enough to block our own pool this way. She wouldn't delegate a situation like this to an underlying. She will handle this affair personally. The only question, then, is where she will start – Alex or Emily?”
    “Well, they were asking Vivik questions…”
    “Grigori or Hope will talk to Alex, then. That means Chandi is looking for Emily right now.”
    Renton nodded, his face returning to its normal, ruddy color. His brown hair was hopelessly in disarray and swept up in a cowlick; Anastasia clucked her disapproval, sat him down in a chair in front of her, and then produced a comb from her tiny antique purse and ran it roughly through his unruly locks. Renton winced when she pulled at the tangles, but he did not look particularly unhappy at the attention.
    “Has Emily said anything to you yet?”
    “Since she asked about the cost? No, I believe that she is still torn. But, if they are here to light a fire underneath her, then I think that will change.”
    “What if Chandi and Hope decide to replace Emily?” Renton asked, gritting his teeth while she tugged on a particularly stubborn knot.
    “That would be a waste of the time and energy they have invested. Chandi will not give up on Emily immediately. First, she will give her an ultimatum, and then observe the results. I’m certain that the Hegemony has other options in reserve, in case Emily’s best effort does not succeed, but Chandi stands to lose nothing by offering her a final opportunity.”
    Anastasia straightened his head so that she could examine it in the mirror, then she expertly parted his hair down the middle, in a perfectly straight line. After a brief inspection, she smiled in satisfaction and released him. Renton stood up, looking at himself at the mirror and patting his neatly combed hair fretfully.
    “Okay. What do you want to do, Ana?”
    Renton watched her reflection in the mirror as she wandered back to her desk with Blitzen, the black Weir, firmly in tow, the embroidered hem of her dress trailing along the tasseled edges of the carpet. Anastasia picked up one of the Swiss fountain pens that her father had bought her, and toyed idly with it, spinning it between her small fingers. She was wearing a simple, sheer black dress; it was Renton’s favorite, and not only because Anastasia never wore it outside of the small home the Academy had provided for her.
    “I still have time,” Anastasia decided, setting the pen carefully back down in its matching gold-plated stand. “I will wait for Emily to come to me. Chandi will meet with her, and make all sorts of dramatic threats. Emily will be forced to compromise her virtue, or deal with me.”
    “Emily won’t put out,” Renton said, adjusting the knot in his tie and wishing he could rearrange his hair, but not wanting to upset Anastasia. “She’s a prude.”
    “Is that so?” Anastasia glanced over at him with laughter in her eyes. “You say that because she refused you?”
    Renton blushed and turned his attention back to his reflection, too flustered to formulate a response.
    “You may be correct,” Anastasia added thoughtfully. “I think she would prefer to get in bed with the Black Sun than with a boy who cannot decide if he likes her. This leaves only one concern outstanding – Alexander Warner.”
    Anastasia reached out to pet the Weir that was practically sitting on her feet, begging for attention, while she considered.
    “Grigori,”