Free Steel Victory (Steel Empire Book 1) by J.L. Gribble Page B

council, leaned to whisper in Fabbri’s ear. Victory’s vampiric hearing picked up her reminder that to Tristan, “bitch” was just another term for a lower-ranking female. Still an insult, but not as great as it could have been.
    Instead, Victory shifted to her right. “What did I miss?”
    Out of the corner of her mouth, Lena said, “Emily is blaming her sign on fights breaking out in her restaurant. Pay attention, girl.”
    Only she and Asaron could get away with calling Victory that. Outliving every other citizen of Limani with the exception of the more reclusive elves had a few privileges. And with privilege came responsibility. Fabbri mouthing off again directed her attention back to the present.
    “My restaurant is private property! I have the right to deny service to anyone I choose.”
    “What, like ‘No shirt, no shoes, no service’?” From where he lounged at the opposite end of Victory’s side of the table, Max radiated a veneer of unconcern. “But now it’s ‘No humanity, no pure blood, no service’?”
    Fabbri looked down her nose at him. “Humanity has nothing to do with it. And I don’t see what your concern is. My policy doesn’t affect you.”
    “Please.” Max smirked at her. “Do your research. I don’t just age well, I’m one-fourth elven, darling.” He toasted her with his glass of water.
    She blanched, and faced the head of the table. “Don’t we have better things to discuss tonight, Alex?”
    Alexander Sethri, human head of the Limani city council, had sat in impartial silence. He eyed Fabbri over his steepled fingers. “I think that while there is such dissent amongst our ranks, anything else we review tonight will be tainted by our strong emotions. And believe me, Emily—they are very strong.” He lapsed back into quiet calm, his disapproval made known.
    “What are you looking for here, Fabbri?” Time for one of her fellow human representatives to speak up. Soren Abramson looked up and down the table. “For us to back your idiotic notions simply because you’re afraid of anything different?”
    “I am not afraid of them.”
    Victory swallowed the snort that threatened to erupt. “Please. You called the police on my daughter, a half-trained warrior-mage, before confronting her yourself. The only reason you didn’t do the same to me was because it’s bad politics to have councilmembers fighting in public.”
    “I didn’t call the police on you because you didn’t storm in looking for a fight,” Fabbri said. “You at least have a reputation for civilization. I could not be sure about your daughter.” The biting emphasis on her last word showed her true opinion of their relationship.
    “And what makes you so sure Torialanthas would cause trouble?” Toria’s given name rolled off the lips of another heretofore-silent observer. Daliana, this decade’s representative of Limani’s elven population, had watched the debate with the same aloofness she possessed during more routine discussions about traffic laws and residential codes.
    “You mean beside her history of violence? The girl was a killer before she even graduated from high school!” Fabbri lit with success, the pleasure at being able to pull this trump card evident in her voice.
    “You go too far, Fabbri.” With surprising defensiveness, Tristan beat Victory to the punch.
    But if ever there was a time to speak in her daughter’s defense without seeming too biased, this was it. “The death that resulted at Toria’s hands was that of a criminal.” Victory kept her voice even, but her short nails dug into her thighs under the table. “Toria acted in order to protect her family.” She smiled at Fabbri, allowing a hint of fang to show. “But you wouldn’t get that, would you? Since you were just elected to council less than six months ago.”
    “Elected is the key word there,” Fabbri said. “I earned my place on this council. What have you done besides live for a long time?”
    “You mean