Chapter 317: What Comes After Strength III
---
Last night’s misunderstanding had been beaten out of them both. What remained was simple enough. He was also one of Sekhmet’s. Just like him. Useful and strong.
Annoying when first met.
Acceptable in hindsight.
Bat Bat, naturally, ruined the gravity of the moment by leaning toward Mira and whispering far too audibly, "They all look like they are trying very hard not to kneel and very hard not to look like they are trying."
Mira actually almost smiled.
That was when she made the choice.
Not inwardly only.
Practically.
She stepped away from the desk.
The movement itself drew a few eyes because Mira did not waste motion often. She came toward Sekhmet with the contained determination of a woman who had decided her pride could remain in place while still speaking plainly.
Sekhmet noticed immediately.
She stopped at a respectful distance from him, close enough for private conversation if the room respected it, far enough not to provoke the wrong assumptions from Raka’s men.
"Master Sekhmet."
He turned his head toward her.
Mira almost said it all there.
But the room still breathed too close. Raka’s men were listening without pretending not to. Bat Bat was physically incapable of not listening. Even Raka, for all his discipline, would not fail to hear if Mira began revealing personal history and asking for power in front of a hall full of newly transformed lower-market predators.
So instead she held the harder part in and said, "When you are done here, I need a word."
His eyes stayed on hers for one brief second.
That was enough.
He understood there was weight under the request.
"All right," he said.
It was simple. Without delay. No mockery. Just that.
Strangely, that was almost worse. Because now she had to actually say it later.
Let truth be expensive. She had cheapened it for long enough by keeping it half buried.
Sekhmet turned back to the room at large after that and finished the practical matters. He divided the transformed men into smaller operating groups under Raka’s broader leadership. He gave them feeding rules, secrecy rules, and movement restrictions. He made it clear they were not to use their new strength inside the upper city unless ordered. They were not to show fangs for style. They were not to panic if hunger rose. They were not to create incidents that forced the Dawn auction house to spend money covering idiocy.
That last one seemed to land best.
Money was a language lower men respected.
Then he looked directly at Mira for the first time since she had asked for a private word.
"You should use the auction money."
The line came so suddenly that even she blinked.
He continued as though discussing ordinary logistics and not reshaping the entire lower structure of his hidden power.
"Hire workers. Or buy them from the contract market if that is cleaner. People who can sort, move, count, and keep quiet." His eyes moved once around the hall, taking in the transformed force before returning to her. "This place will need more hands than it has now."
Mira absorbed that quickly.
Of course.
The auction house would become more than an auction house. Even if outwardly it remained the same, the internal demands were already growing. More people to manage. More storage. More movement between house, market, and hidden operations.
Sekhmet went on.
"Choose carefully. Not only cheap. Useful. Trainable. Quiet. People who disappear into work instead of creating noise around it."
Mira nodded. "I can do that."
"I know."
The answer came without hesitation.
That should not have mattered as much as it did.
It did anyway.
Raka watched the exchange without speaking. He was not stupid enough to misread Mira’s place completely. She was not one of his people. Not one of the maids either. Not bloodline yet. But she had standing here. That was obvious. The way Sekhmet spoke to her said enough.
Interesting. Useful to know.
Sekhmet then gave the last morning instruction to Raka.
"Take your men below ground after this. Feed only as ordered. Bring in the worst ones. Keep your lower routes clean."
Raka nodded once. "Understood."
"And if any of them lose control."
Raka’s face hardened. "They answer to me first."
That was the right answer.
Because yes, they answered upward into Sekhmet’s bloodline. But Raka needed to own their lower discipline or the whole point of keeping him at the center of them would be wasted.
Bat Bat raised a hand as if she were in some absurd lesson hall. "Question."
No one responded. Everyone was watching at Sekhmet to respond.
She answered herself anyway. "If they all become stronger and stronger and stronger, will they eventually get better faces?"
Three of the newly transformed men looked offended.
Raka did not bother.
Mira finally gave in and let the faintest flicker of amusement touch her mouth. It vanished before anyone but Sekhmet could fully catch it.
Sekhmet looked at Bat Bat. "That is not the current concern."
"It should be someone’s."
"Not mine."
"Perhaps mine," Bat Bat said with deep seriousness.
Sekhmet let the comment die of its own stupidity.
Then he looked at Mira again and saw enough in her face to know the conversation waiting between them had not gotten lighter while he handled the room. Good. He preferred that. If she meant to speak truth at last, let it remain heavy enough that she did not try to decorate it by the time they were alone.
He did not call for that private talk yet.
Not in front of everyone.
First he needed the hall emptied and the lower bloodline sorted back into motion.
So he did what needed.
Raka gathered his men. The newly made lesser vampires moved with increasing confidence now, all of them still slightly too aware of their changed senses, all of them still not entirely used to the cleaner hunger in their blood, but already more disciplined than they had been an hour ago.