“You embody three things that English overlords might immediately reject.” “And they are?” “You are a foreigner, an American.” “Strike one.” She smiled and sipped her wine. “You are a Siphon, a threat to their power.” “That one, I understand. And the third?” I hesitated but couldn’t withhold the truth. “You’re a woman.” Rather than flush with anger, her head tipped back as she laughed.
