Ruby Fever

Chapter 11

“As your cousin-brother, I feel compelled to point out the utter fuckedupness of this situation,” Leon said as I took the turn onto the side road.

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t use that term.”

“Fuckedupness?”

“Cousin-brother. Pick one, not both.”

The area around the Compound was still mostly rural, with the city encroaching like an urban octopus stretching its tentacles. Fields rolled on both sides of the road, with a farmhouse here and there and small businesses like car repair shops and veterinary clinics sprouting up by the road at random. The armored troop transport rocked as it rolled over haphazard bumps in the road. It was very well protected but far less comfortable than Rhino. I missed our tank-SUV.

Leon checked his SIG Sauer. Runa had heroically offered to go with me on this adventure, but she could barely stand. Besides, Leon had mentioned he “needed comfort” again, which in Leon speak meant he wanted to be useful.

“Is this fiancée even real?” he asked.

“Probably.”

“How?”

“I suspect that’s something his family arranged. He’s been getting phone calls.”

“What kind of phone calls?”

“The kind he takes in private. He speaks in Italian, and they make him irritated.”

The Sagredo family had been overextended for generations. They dragged a mountain of debt behind them, and they expected to sell Alessandro for a pretty penny. They had arranged three engagements for him, and Alessandro had torpedoed every one of them. Trying to sell him for a fourth time didn’t seem like much of a stretch.

Leon frowned. “Correct me if I’m misunderstanding this, but he’s been excised. They disowned him.”

“Yes.”

“So how could they be arranging marriages for him?”

“If something happens and you are excised, will you stop caring about your brother, or Arabella, or Nevada?”

He grimaced. “So it’s emotional blackmail.”

“Probably.”

Our childhood shaped us in deep, fundamental ways, and Alessandro’s childhood was all about taking his rightful place as the Head of the family, carrying on the Sagredo name, and marrying well to stave off creditors so House Sagredo could survive for one more generation. At heart, Alessandro was a protector. That part of him never disappeared; it only grew stronger, except now my family and I were the focus of that protective urge. Before he’d left with Konstantin, he’d kissed me and asked me to stay in the Compound until he returned. If he found out I left on this little expedition, he wouldn’t be happy.

Unfortunately, it couldn’t be helped. I needed to ascertain the scope of this threat.

“It’s a messed-up family,” I said. “His grandfather runs it, and neither Alessandro’s grandmother nor his mother can stand up to him. He wants him to marry an heiress.”

“He has a grandmother? And what, we’re not rich enough?”

“It’s not just a matter of money. It’s about generational guilt and lost noble titles which shouldn’t matter but still do. He wants Alessandro to get a rich wife, come back to Italy, and then sit on his hands for the rest of his life. Because that’s what he and Alessandro’s father did. It’s kind of a family tradition for the men in his family. If Alessandro goes out and decides to make his own money, it will invalidate his grandfather’s entire life. He doesn’t want him to be successful, Leon.”

“So it’s his version of ‘I suffered and lived in misery, so everyone else has to’?”

“Pretty much.”

“Never understood that,” Leon said. “If you suffered, wouldn’t you want your grandson to have an easier time?”

“You and I would because we are not assholes.” I made another turn. “The timing on this is fishy. We grab Arkan’s snitch, and suddenly Alessandro’s fiancée shows up.”

“I don’t like it,” Leon said.

“Neither do I.”

In the past six months, Alessandro and I had made arrangements to limit the potential damage his grandfather could do, but no preparations could account for all of the possibilities.

He didn’t talk to me about it.

“They can’t honestly think he will put his tail between his legs and crawl back to them,” Leon said.

“That’s exactly what they think.”

The field on the right side had ended. A new subdivision was going up, bordered by a stone wall, half-finished roofs peaking above it. Signs dotted the side of the road.

The Estates at Brushy Creek.

From the low $400s

NEW HOMES

First phase available

WELCOME HOME

Turn left

The entrance to the subdivision waited ahead, bordered by curved stone flowerbeds. I steered the transport into it. We rolled past the model houses doubling as sales offices.

Ahead the four-lane street split, flowing around an island of green lawn that offered a playground and a large covered pavilion with picnic tables and barbecue grills. The houses closest to the entrance had been mostly complete, but here the construction was still in full swing. Skeletons of future homes rose on both sides, as building crews carried lumber and sank nails into the wooden frames. A big blue taco truck had stopped on one side of the park, serving tacos and sandwiches to the construction workers.

I eyed the truck.

“PTSD?” Leon asked.

“Yep. Wondering if it might explode.”

I looped around the island, parked on the other side of it, facing the way back to the entrance, and shut off the engine. Despite the controlled construction chaos on both sides of the street, the park itself was deserted.

“You know that I wasn’t a fan of the guy when the two of you started,” Leon said. “He did stupid shit, and he hurt your feelings. However, I changed my mind. The man works hard, covers his bases, and he loves you with fairy-tale love.”

I raised my eyebrows at him.

“The kind of love that you’re supposed to find but most of us don’t. He isn’t going anywhere, Catalina.”

“I’m not worried that he’ll leave me, Leon. I’m worried they will hurt him.”

I opened my door and stepped out. Leon got out of the transport and the two of us took a spot on a bench by the table.

Bern had run a quick background check on Christina Almeida while I was trying to get all my ducks in a row for this meeting. House Almeida was the seventh richest House in Portugal, and Christina was the youngest of the current generation. By all indications, she was adored by her family.

House Almeida mostly stayed out of the limelight. The Magus Praelia area of magic covered a lot of ground. In general terms, it meant a mage who used melee weapons, summoned or real, and altered their bodies to make themselves better killers. Some praelia made themselves faster or stronger, others boosted their reflexes. Some were capable of unleashing bursts of magic with their weapons.

The taco truck opened its window. About a dozen construction workers lined up to order.

“Incoming,” I told Leon.

He smiled a slow dreamy smile.

A silver Audi slid to the curb across the street with a soft whisper. A tall, lean white-haired man got out of the driver’s side and went around the car to the rear passenger door. His skin had an almost ochre tint, and his features were sharp, as if struck from stone by an impatient sculptor. I couldn’t tell his age from his face or the way he moved. Somewhere between thirty and fifty.

Leon whistled the opening tune from A Fistful of Dollars.

The white-haired man opened the car door, and a woman stepped out. She was a year older than me, with pale skin and long dark hair, a cooler brown with carefully chosen highlights. Tall, about five ten, maybe a hundred and thirty pounds, long waisted, long legs, long arms. And she walked like a fencer, balanced and light on her feet. Her dark pantsuit fit her perfectly but was loose enough to let her move freely.

Huge grey eyes on an oval face, straight nose, a large mouth she toned down with pale pink lipstick . . . She was quite beautiful, in that upper-class slightly generic way. If you googled European heiress, you would find a slew of girls just like her, with big eyes, lovely smiles, and perfectly applied makeup designed to elevate their features rather than emphasize them.

She walked over and sat across from me. The man took position behind her. I sent my magic out. It spiraled from me, carefully slipping around Christina to the man behind her. Not a mental mage. His mind was unshielded and vulnerable. Probably an aegis. That’s who I would bring.

“I’ll get straight to it,” Christina Almeida said in her accented voice. “Alessandro’s family and my House have made arrangements. We are able to meet their financial demands.”

They sold him. Again. As expected.

I let a single tendril of my power gently brush against Christina, its touch featherlight. An antistasi wall.

Interesting.

“How much did you pay for him?” Leon asked. “Just wondering what a good-looking Prime antistasi goes for on the open market these days.”

Christina ignored him. “Your feelings for him and his feelings for you are immaterial to this arrangement. This is about family, obligation, and children.”

She wasn’t as strong as the basalt rock that was Alessandro’s mind. She must’ve ranked lower, probably a Notable. Antistasi plus a Prime praelia. Summoned augmented weapons, maybe?

Christina leaned back, raising her chin slightly. “His family will never accept you.”

“Not the greatest argument considering they excised him,” Leon said.

“It’s not just a matter of money but of class and pedigree. You have neither. Furthermore, you have no idea how to handle a Sagredo or how to navigate their family dynamic. His grandfather is an insufferable, toxic man.”

On that, we agreed.

“If you marry Alessandro and travel with him to Italy, his grandfather will make you miserable until you either quit or die by his hand. If you marry Alessandro and keep him here, his excision will become permanent. He will lose all contact with his mother and sisters. The guilt will eat him alive. We both know duty to his family is his Achilles’ heel and the benefits of a pretty face and intense sex only last so long. No vagina is magic.”

Leon smiled.

“Unlike you, Ms. Baylor, I have the leverage to free Alessandro from his grandfather while preserving his other family ties. I will give him what he truly requires—a family with status and powerful children. My line is compatible with antistasi magic. My grandmother was one. I am also one. Feel free to test my mind.”

Heh.

“Our children will be powerful, and their future will be assured, because my House will commit all of its resources to their training. They will be worthy of the Almeida name. Your children with him would struggle even if by some genetic miracle, they were born with some talent. Let him go. Let him live the life he pretended to have all these years. If you love him, help me make this as painless for him as possible. We both know he doesn’t belong here.”

I glanced at Leon. “Did you catch the ‘my House will commit all of its resources’ bit?”

“Mhm,” he said. “They’re planning to play ball until the old buzzard dies and then they’ll try to absorb Sagredo into their House.”

“I will win in the end, one way or another,” Christina said. “I’ve viewed the recordings of your power. You require an arcane circle to be effective and your command of the blade is rudimentary. You are no match for me physically, magically, or in terms of family resources. In the interest of resolving this matter quickly, I’m willing to negotiate. Name your price and we can conclude this unpleasant business. Don’t look at it as a bribe. Instead look at it as an extension of assistance from someone who understands the emotional toll of sacrifice.”

She was a child.

“Okay,” I told Leon. “I’ve learned everything I needed to know.”

“I’m being extremely generous,” Christina told me.

“Of course you are. I’ll return the favor. You’ve landed in the middle of a vicious House war. You are being used by our enemies as a distraction. Alessandro isn’t leaving with you. He refused three marriages before you, and he isn’t the type of person to allow anyone to force his hand. He isn’t going to meekly depart with you because that’s not the way adult relationships work.”

An angry flush bloomed on her cheeks.

“Get back in your car, get on a plane, and go home. You’re in over your head, and I cannot guarantee your safety if you stay. All of our resources are focused on protecting our House. I can’t spare anyone to guard you.”

“I don’t need your protection,” Christina ground out. “I’m a Prime!”

“So is everyone else involved. I don’t have time for this.” I looked at the white-haired man. “Take her home. She is not safe here, and this is not her war.”

“In that case we will settle this here and now.” Christina rose.

“There is nothing to settle. Alessandro Sagredo would know the moment I touched his mind,” I said. “I’ve been rummaging in yours since you arrived.”

Three things happened almost at once. A golden rapier materialized in Christina’s hand. The white-haired man leaped into the air, his hands shifting into huge claws. Leon fired a single round.

The man crashed onto the table, clutching his side. Blood wet his fingers.

Christina took a step back.

“He’ll live,” Leon said. “If you get him to the hospital in the next hour or so.”

Christina’s eyes went wide. She finally realized that the man had been facing us when he attacked. He should’ve been shot from the front. Instead, he was shot from the back. I had no idea what Leon bounced the bullet off of, but it was damn impressive.

“Let me make this clear,” I said, and this time, it wasn’t my Tremaine voice. It was me, Prime Baylor, the Acting Warden. “This is my territory. If you leave here alive it is because I allow it. Look behind you.”

Christina turned slowly.

Everything had stopped. The construction, the noises of human voices, all of it was silent. The two dozen construction workers and the woman inside the taco truck stared at us. They were all wearing my face.

Christina opened her mouth. Nothing came out.

“Go home,” I told her. “I won’t ask again.”

Two workers, still wearing my face, walked over, picked the white-haired man up, and carried him to the Audi. A third burly construction worker came to stand by me. We watched the two guys pack the injured man into the car. Christina looked at them, looked at me, looked back at them. One of the workers opened the driver’s side door and invited her to it with a sweep of his hand.

“Please,” the worker said in my voice.

Christina’s sword vanished. She gave me a look of pure hatred, ran to the car, and jumped behind the wheel. The Audi took off at a breakneck speed, looped around the picnic area, and shot out of the subdivision like a silver bullet.

“From the back?” I asked Leon.

“I was feeling fanciful,” he told me.

The burly construction worker’s body collapsed into a slimmer, elegant shape.

“I thought it went rather well, all things considered,” Augustine Montgomery said.