Camilla took the hand. Her skin was cool, marble-smooth, but her grip was perfectly calibrated not to crush.
"Camilla," the vampire said softly.
Sophie's smile deepened by a fraction. She released the handshake with the same unhurried composure she had offered it with, took a respectful step back, and swept her hand toward the living room.
"Please. Come in properly. Stan, kick off your shoes. You know the rule."
Stan froze. "The rule."
"The rule, Stan. No street shoes on the Persian rug."
Camilla's crimson eyes flicked, briefly and lethally, to Stan.
Stan sighed with the profound, practiced exhaustion of a man who had been losing this specific argument on a weekly basis. He bent down to unlace his boots.
Camilla watched him do it. A flicker of sheer, unadulterated amusement danced in her gaze. She had just, in the span of three seconds, received a very substantial piece of information about the domestic authority this streamer wielded over him.
