Still in that horribly intimate whisper: "If you want to report your failure back to the Council? I suggest you run. If you can. Without an antidote you've got maybe fifteen minutes."

She rises from the crouch, smoothing down the front of her skirt with tiny precise gestures as she straightens, and speaks without taking her eyes from Philippus's. "Brianna. Juliet. Show our guest out."

On the last word, there's a tiny movement of her chin in the direction of the window.