Ruby Fever

Chapter 16

I hid in my office. That seemed like the best place.

For a few minutes I stared at my email trying to read it. None of it registered. After twenty minutes I gave up and logged into the Warden Network.

It didn’t take me long to find it. Some files, usually the ones dealing with past matters the Wardens have handled, required a higher clearance. They weren’t available to me when I was a Deputy. But I was the Acting Warden now and the archives of the network were my playground.

Victoria was right. Linus was Caesar.

Two years before Adam Pierce blew up the bank that started our involvement, Linus was pursuing a complex corruption case and stumbled onto the Conspiracy. Two dozen powerful Texas Houses were involved, people with armor-clad reputations, strong connections, and staggering resources. It was too big to take down from the outside. After a consultation with representatives of the National Assembly, Linus made a decision to infiltrate it.

It took him six months. The conspirators needed a face, someone with an unassailable reputation they could use to inspire new recruits and reassure nervous members. Someone to shake their hand and promise with total sincerity that they were doing the right thing, that their cause was noble, and that future generations would celebrate their efforts and their sacrifice. Linus became that somebody. Caesar, a leader without power. An inspiration.

The notes were detailed in some ways yet cursory in others. He was frustrated at being constantly watched and monitored, but he also viewed it as a challenge. If Linus had a choice between direct interference and subtle manipulation, he chose the latter every time. I had seen him maneuver state agencies and prominent Primes like pieces on a chessboard without anyone realizing it.

The Conspiracy hadn’t had a centralized hierarchy. Rather it was a gathering of power clusters, loosely united by a common goal. Sometimes they consulted him before acting, often they didn’t. It must’ve been like trying to wrestle an octopus with each tentacle thinking for itself. Since they tied his hands, he’d needed a cleaver to do the dirty work for him. He decided on Connor.

His assessment of Connor was frank. According to Linus, Connor was stagnating after the war. Kelly Waller, his cousin, was already up to her neck in the Conspiracy, and she had brought her son in. Gavin was bouncing from one Conspiracy member to another, looking for someone to hero-worship and he’d settled on Adam Pierce. Linus expected Adam to spin out of control, and when he did, Gavin’s presence would trigger Connor’s involvement.

Nevada wasn’t even mentioned.

When Adam was stopped and apprehended by Connor and Nevada before he burned the entirety of Houston to the ground, the leaders of the Conspiracy convened, and Linus convinced them that supporting Adam was too much of a risk. They abandoned him, and he won his first victory.

And so it went, a careful dance, a word here, a suggestion there. Little by little, step by step Linus worked to break the Conspiracy apart from within. As the events unfolded, his direction shifted. Knowing what I knew now, it was glaringly obvious. He was still focused on dismantling the Conspiracy, but he had acquired a secondary objective—protecting Nevada.

He’d stopped two assassination orders against my sister and personally killed the Prime who had been en route to attempt the third. He had taken great risks to keep her and us out of harm’s way.

He’d also convinced the heads of the Conspiracy not to kill Cornelius in retaliation for Olivia Charles’ death. He had been incensed by the death of Cornelius’ wife, Nari. He was unaware it had taken place and blamed himself for his failure to anticipate and stop it. He’d thought Howling was devoted to him, but he hadn’t accounted for the pressure Olivia Charles had exerted. The note in the file said, “Had I paid attention sooner, Matilda wouldn’t have lost her mother, and a young woman who was just starting her life would be alive today. My hubris killed her.” There was a whole thing with Sturm’s illegitimate half-brother who was a member of a prominent House that we had known nothing about.

I thought I’d had a grasp on how the Conspiracy had unfolded. I’d barely scratched the surface. There were layers and layers I’d had no idea about. This was how the game was played in the big leagues. I had a long way to go.

Linus had taken so much responsibility and guilt on himself. He once told me that nobody who chose the life of the Warden retired with clean hands. I’d never truly understood it until now. In ten years, if another Conspiracy reared its ugly head, it wouldn’t be Linus playing the spider and writing about his hubris killing innocent people. It would be me. If I learned well and worked very hard.

There was another file in there, locked behind a separate code. It was marked “Personal,” but my code worked. Linus must’ve meant for me to see it at some point or another.

Cornelius had gone to see him after the firestorm from Olivia’s death died down and we had neutralized Sturm, delivering what we thought was the death blow to the Conspiracy. It was just after Connor and Nevada’s wedding. Cornelius told Linus that he came to kill him, but he was willing to listen to an explanation first. They talked. Cornelius left and both he and Linus were still alive.

Your family is my family. My sister and brother both feel the same. You, Arabella, and Nevada are the only older sisters Matilda will ever have. You never have to worry that I would harm any of you.

Cornelius knew. He must’ve forgiven my grandfather. He must’ve forgiven us as a family. And Nevada had known as well. She had interrogated members of the Conspiracy once it fell apart. They would’ve identified Linus. Nevada hated Victoria Tremaine. Our grandmother had put her through hell, and her hatred was justified. My sister refused to allow Arthur anywhere near Victoria. And yet Nevada had forgiven Linus, kept his secret, and let him be a part of her life. Was it because his goal was justified or was it because she learned how close to the edge he had come trying to keep her alive? Perhaps it was both. I would have to ask her once this was all over. This was a quiet conversation we would need to have in private over a cup of tea with lots of calming candles burning.

I wouldn’t be surprised if she were the one who told Cornelius. Knowing her, she probably drove him to that meeting with Linus.

A big oddly shaped spider crossed my desk and stopped directly in front of me. Jadwiga and I stared at each other.

Slowly, carefully, I reached to the side, slid a drawer open, and pulled out a plastic container.

No sudden movements. I hummed softly, sending my magic out, and raised the container, holding it upside down.

“Hush little baby, don’t say a word . . .”

Wait, what am I doing? She’s a spider.

An inch. Another.

“Momma’s gonna buy you a mocking bird . . .”

Jadwiga held still.

Maybe it’s working.

The shadow of the container fell on the queen of spiders.

Jadwiga bolted across the desk and skittered down onto the carpet, up the wall, and into an AC vent.

Damn it. I tossed the container back into the drawer.

The sound of panting made me raise my head. Rooster sat in the doorway of my office, her gaze fixed on a point above her head.

Ah. “My sister got under your skin.”

The empty air tore in random spots and melted into Konstantin in his sunny angel form. He was carrying Arthur’s rubber band machine gun.

“It’s the principle of the thing,” he said. “As the best illusion Prime in the world, I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Please, come in.”

He entered, sat in my client chair, and put my nephew’s contraption onto the table. “This awkward weapon came for you by drone. I volunteered to deliver it.”

Nevada reminding me of my promise.

“Have you tested it?” I asked, nodding at the weapon.

He nodded. “Surprisingly it works.”

Rooster put her head on his thigh and looked at me. He petted her.

“Traitor,” I told her.

“It’s not her fault. Dogs like me.”

“How about spiders?”

He chuckled. “Not at all, I’m afraid.”

“Of course now that I know you have subverted your guard, I’ll need to replace her.”

“No need.” Konstantin scratched Rooster’s ear. “Arkan landed in Houston twenty minutes ago under an assumed identity. I would guess we have until dawn. He likes to be dramatic. Also, visibility is particularly poor before sunrise. Dusk would also work, but he doesn’t want to stumble around this massive house in the dark.”

It was all coming to an end.

“A penny for your thoughts?” he asked.

“I’ve realized I’m a talented amateur who has a long way to go and I’m dealing with that.”

“Ah. And here I thought you were brooding in here because Alessandro is talking to his mother. I stopped by for a few moments. It seemed very emotional.”

I smiled at him. “I quite liked my future mother-in-law.”

Rooster decided to lie down, and Konstantin put one leg over the other. “Oh? What is it you like about her?”

“She has excellent aim.”

He frowned.

We sat in silence for a few moments.

“Arkan will attack tomorrow,” Konstantin said. “Have you given any thought to what will come after?”

I had given all sorts of thoughts to what would come after, but my plate was rather full at the moment. “I don’t follow.”

Konstantin’s face shifted.

The golden angel was gone. The man remaining in his place was handsome but very much human. He was still blond, but his skin had lost the perfect golden tan. His features were refined, but harsh. A square jaw, an uncompromising mouth, clear focused eyes under thick blond eyebrows. A scar crossed his left cheek from the temple down to the chin, just missing the corner of his mouth. It was almost the same color as his face, so it had to be old, but whatever had made it must have cut deep.

Rooster let out a soft woof. He bent down and stroked her head, and she went quiet.

“I thought it would be best to have this conversation face-to-face.”

His voice matched the new him. Brisk, to the point, without his usual relaxed informality. He was showing me the real Konstantin and I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be flattered or alarmed.

“May I see the wings?”

He showed me his. It was only fair.

I let my wings out. They opened above my shoulders, a beautiful shimmering green. I pushed with my magic, and jet-black rolled over them from my back to the feather tips, turning them bloodred for a split second.

Konstantin raised his eyebrows.

I let the black color in my feathers die and shook the green feathers slightly, keeping all of my magic to myself. “Can you continue with the conversation, or would you like me to put them away?”

“Does it drain you?”

“No. The effort is in keeping them contained.”

“In that, we’re similar. Like you, I generate an excess of magic. Maintaining a slight illusion burns some of it off.” He looked at my wings. “They are mesmerizing.”

That’s the idea. “What did you want to talk about?”

“You understand that Alessandro will die tomorrow?”

Anxiety pinched me. “You seem very certain of that.”

“Have you seen the recording of Alessandro’s father’s death?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Arkan’s magic was unique and terrible. When he unleashed it, he stopped time. It couldn’t be the true nature of his power, but that’s what it looked like. He had gone to the wedding of Marcello’s best friend to kill him, and when Alessandro’s father put himself between Arkan and his target, Arkan had immobilized the entire wedding party. Even their wounds didn’t bleed until the effect wore off. It wasn’t something one would forget.

Konstantin was looking directly at me. He had a magnetic gaze, difficult to meet, but once you did, it held you like a tractor beam.

“Arkan’s magic can’t be countered. Five seconds of pure freedom to do whatever the hell he wants while everyone else stands petrified. His range is twenty-five meters. He can effectively immobilize a chunk of any battlefield. His magic has no name. He’s one of a kind. None of his siblings inherited his power and neither did his son.”

“He has children?”

“Had. A boy. He died. He looked a bit like Xavier.”

“And you kept that fact to yourself.”

He nodded. “You might have hesitated to kill him. We needed Arkan enraged. It’s fortunate that Huracan lived up to his name.”

“You plot too much, Your Highness.”

“It’s an occupational hazard. Alessandro can nullify all the magic around him. In theory, a perfect counter to Arkan. But Alessandro requires a circle to do his ultimate trick, while Arkan does not, and Alessandro won’t use that circle tomorrow.”

Where was he going with this? “How do you know?”

“It’s omni-directional. His power cannot be aimed. He quashes all magic in an eight-hundred-meter radius, an equivalent of a magical EMP bomb.”

It was nine hundred meters, actually.

“Your family requires magic to fight, while Arkan’s people are trained killers even without their powers. If Sasha detonates his antimagic bomb tomorrow, you, your sisters, your cousins, your grandparents, all of you will become ordinary civilians, while Arkan will still have dozens of professional assassins at his disposal.”

He thought Alessandro’s power functioned like an environmental spell, affecting a certain area as long as you were in it. He was wrong. Alessandro’s blast affected people within the area, but not the environment itself.

“Arkan is an excellent killer,” Konstantin continued. “He was trained by the best in the Imperium. Sasha is a superb fighter, true, except he relies on his talent too much. He is younger and faster, but he alone won’t be enough if the rest of you lose your powers. No matter where Arkan will be on that battlefield tomorrow, Alessandro would hone in on him like a guided missile. Whatever plans you’ve made, they will all go out of the window once the two of them see each other.”

A few days ago I might have believed that was true. Even now doubt nagged at me. But Alessandro had made me a promise. Either I trusted the man I loved or there was no way for us to be together.

“You’re probably thinking of your mother and her sniper rifle right now. It won’t work.”

I wasn’t thinking that, but it wasn’t a bad suggestion.

“What I am about to share is a state secret. Technically I’m committing treason.” Konstantin gave me a narrow, humorless smile. “The petrification is Arkan’s active talent.”

Most mages had an active and a passive field. Active magical abilities required conscious effort, while passive powers were autonomic like breathing or sweating. My passive field evaluated strangers for threats and tried to make them like me on its own, which was why I had to constantly suppress it, while singing required a conscious effort and was therefore active. Konstantin’s passive field let him see through illusions, among other things, but to change shape he would need to exert himself.

“Are you telling me that Arkan generates a passive field?” I asked. Nobody had ever mentioned it. Not the Warden Network, not Alessandro’s spies.

“He does. It’s approximately one quarter of an inch deep. No object can penetrate the field without Arkan allowing it to do so. Neither a blade nor a bullet can hurt him. He exerts conscious effort to put on clothes and brush his hair in the morning. He can drop the field long enough to get drunk, although if you tried to pour alcohol down his throat against his will, it wouldn’t touch him. He has allowed himself to be cut on occasion, especially if he suspects he is being recorded and wants to protect his secret.”

Was this real or was he lying? I wished Nevada was in the room with us.

“How does he breathe?”

“The field rejects objects depending on their density and threat level. Gasses are unaffected, liquids are affected somewhat, and solid matter can’t penetrate at all.”

“Then a venenata attack, provided gas is used as a delivery system, would work.”

“Possibly,” he agreed. “Although we are not certain. As I said, it’s not density alone, it’s also the danger that’s a factor. He does get wet in the rain, but he has been repeatedly splashed with acid and it never burned him. Arkan doesn’t have a single poison mage in his inner circle. He employs them but keeps them at arm’s length. He prefers to prepare his own food with ingredients he gets from his own garden. He has a poison tester and travels with his own private shielder who guards his mind. The man is as unkillable as one can be.”

“What about a fulgurkinetic?” I asked.

“Funny you should mention that. That was how we attempted to eliminate him the second time. The field negated the lightning. It also negates flames and enerkinetic fire, we tried that.”

An icy tendril of frost crawled down my spine. “And Alessandro doesn’t know?”

“No.”

This was a game changer. The petrification power was the ultimate move, but it only lasted a few seconds and we counted on Arkan still being semi-vulnerable during it. We had a complex sequence planned including sniper shots, intersecting fields of fire, and poison delivery. That plan hinged on Alessandro not being within Arkan’s range when he stopped time.

None of that would work now.

“Although of course you will tell him the moment we’re done talking.” Konstantin sighed. “It will change nothing. Sasha is an optimist. Must be the Italian side of the family, because in Russia we view pessimism as an Olympic sport. We will kill Arkan tomorrow. Either your brother-in-law, your best friend, or your younger sister will injure him. Perhaps you can sing him to death. Make him slit his own throat. But none of you will be fast enough. Sasha will get to him first, and Arkan will end him. Which brings us back to my original question, what will you do after?”

What would I do once Alessandro died? “I don’t know.”

“Would you remain in the house where you and he were happy?” He glanced around. “This place holds so many memories for you, of making love, of planning a future, of laughing together, and every one of them will be tainted, because he will be gone. Will you stay here, hoping for an echo of that warmth or would it be too painful?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“If the hurt is too much, come to Russia with me.”

I had expected something like that but he still caught me off guard.

“I know it feels like a betrayal. After all, he’s still alive, talking and breathing. You can still hold him. But tomorrow, when all of that is over, you don’t have to face it alone. You can have a fresh start far away from all the things that happened before. No judgment, no guilt. A new life.”

“Is this a formal employment offer from the Imperium?”

“It’s an invitation from a prince of the blood to be his cherished guest,” he said.

“Aren’t the two synonymous?”

“Not necessarily.”

I sighed. “Konstantin, we both know that if I came with you, sooner or later someone would suggest that I should do a little favor for my hosts.”

“Nobody would ever suggest that. I would not permit it.”

He didn’t simply say it. He said it like he was ordering an ancient warrior to hold a bridge against an invading army. There was weight behind his words and complete assurance. There were very few places in the modern world a royal could say those words in that way and mean it.

“I would be lying if I said the Imperium wouldn’t want your talent. A mage of your caliber with your skill set would be a very desirable addition to the royal family’s arsenal. That’s not why I am extending this invitation.”

“Your Highness, I’m confused.” I’d managed to keep sarcasm out of the Highness somehow.

“I’ve watched a lot of Arkan’s surveillance video. There were days when I did nothing but stare at the screen for hours to gather the intelligence I required. Strange as it seemed, I began to look forward to it, because sometimes that surveillance was of you. I saw you in the Pit singing to a man-made god. I saw you go into prison to visit your grandmother and be sick after. I saw you walk your dog in the rain.”

I did not like where this was going. “It wasn’t me, Konstantin. It was an idea of me. You were in a terrible place, surrounded by enemies, pretending to be someone you are not, and having to constantly watch yourself, and you were staring at screens for days.”

He gave me a rueful smile. “This wasn’t the first time I’ve been away from home. I’ve run this kind of operation before, more than once, more than twenty times, yet I’ve never developed an interest in anyone. Everything I’ve said since we met, the ridiculous conversation with Sasha in the car I knew you would watch, the time you introduced the dogs to me, our chat in the kitchen, all of it was designed to find some flaw, some reason for me to walk away. Instead, here I am, wearing my real face.”

He knew we were watching him. Every moment had been calculated. Wow.

“I like the way you think. I like the way you smile. I notice how your face looks when the light from the kitchen window catches it while you chop vegetables on a cutting board. I look at you and I feel like a beggar, because I realize that half of my life something has been missing, and now I know exactly where it was all along. We are two of a kind. A matched pair.”

I wished with all my heart that this was another ploy like all the other games he played, but it wasn’t. He was completely sincere.

“I don’t expect to win against Sasha. You love him. But tomorrow he will be gone. This will become a house of painful memories, an unbearable place. The Wardens can expect nothing more of you. You would have more than fulfilled your duty. Either of your sisters can easily pick up the reins of your House. And they might be better suited for it because you will be drowning in grief. Your younger sister is a calculating pragmatist. With Nevada and your grandparents to guide her, she would have no problem steering the family forward.”

Strangely, he wasn’t wrong about Arabella.

“If you choose to give me a chance, the Baylors will become untouchable. They will be guaranteed Imperial citizenship and protection, and even if they choose to remain in the US, they will enjoy special status. Your cousins and Arabella will be welcome at the highest strata of society. They will never have to fight another feud, because the might of the Imperium will loom over their shoulders.”

He shrugged as if getting rid of a heavy weight.

“None of this will be the deciding factor, but there is one more thing I want to mention. When I told Alessandro that you are wasted on Texas, I meant it. Your stage is meant to be so much bigger, Catalina. Russia is vast and our interests are many. Some part of you must be tempted by the sheer scale of the playing field. You can test the limits and find out what you can really do.”

“Perhaps I want a simple life,” I told him.

His face blurred one more time. He was me. A little older, a little sharper, with a knowing look in my eyes. I wore a formal gown, deep green with a hint of gold. A golden tiara studded with emeralds rested on my hair. I looked beautiful, untouchable, and regal. That’s how he saw me.

The illusion shattered. The real Konstantin smiled at me one last time, before redonning the flawless face he showed to the world.

He rose.

“Think about it.”

The prince walked away, Rooster following him, a picture of canine devotion.

I stormed into the main house and ran up the stairs, brandishing Arthur’s rubber band weapon. The grandparents’ rooms were empty, Victoria’s circle broken. Arabella had let her out. Of course.

Where would they go? Linus could barely walk.

Voices floated from the kitchen. There they are.

I ran down the stairs and headed to the kitchen through a short hallway and almost bounced off Arabella going very quickly in the opposite direction.

“You do not want to go in there,” Arabella hissed and took off.

Oh for the love of . . . I marched down the hallway into the kitchen.

Mom, Grandma Frida, and Alessandro’s mother looked at me.

“Is there something you need?” Mom asked me. Her tone suggested that there was absolutely nothing I needed.

“Have you seen Ev . . . Grandmother Victoria and Grandfather Linus?”

“They are on the western balcony,” Grandma Frida said.

“Thank you,” I squeaked and escaped.

The western balcony was one of my favorite spots in the main house. It was on the third floor, a part of the same covered veranda that connected to Arabella’s tower by a breezeway. Spacious and guarded by a thick stone rail, it was quiet and lovely, and offered a beautiful view of the rolling green that was southeast Texas.

Linus and Victoria sat in the chairs with a small table between them. The table held two glasses of iced tea and what was most likely a plate of Arabella’s patented “vegan muffins.”

Nobody was screaming. I took it as a good sign.

“There you are,” Linus said.

I put the rubber band machine gun on the table and took the third chair.

“What is this?” Victoria asked.

“A projectile weapon.” Linus picked it up and pressed the hidden trigger. The rubber bands shot into the air. “Rudimentary and clumsily made, but functional.”

He ran his hand over the weapon. A hint of grass-green magic nipped at the modified yarn swift.

“Too complex for a toddler, too simple for a teenager,” Linus said, putting the gun back on the table. “Who is our mystery hephaestus mage?”

“Arthur.”

Linus spun around in his chair to look at me.

“He telekinetically assembled it in midair from his grandmother’s yarn swift, thread, bands, and some pushpins. Nevada is upset about the pushpins.”

“Of course she is,” Victoria said. “They are sharp.”

Linus picked the weapon up and held it gingerly as if it were the holy grail.

“Congratulations,” Victoria said dryly. “You finally got one.”

“Why is he building weapons?” I asked. “He can’t possibly understand shooting someone.”

“He doesn’t know he’s building weapons,” Linus said. “His magic is informing him that some things in his environment can be manipulated. Rubber bands are stretchy, metal pins are stiff, thread can connect things, this wooden thing rotates. He is combining them in various ways to make things slide and snap. It’s instinctive. He could make a moving sculpture next.”

“So why is it called hephaestus magic?” I asked.

“Because making guns is the most fun,” Linus said.

“Both of you lied to me,” I said.

“We lie to everyone. Why should you be different?” Victoria said.

“Because I am family. I do love you, Grandmother Victoria. But that doesn’t undo things that you’ve done. Setting aside how our father was born—because I don’t even know where to start there—you put Nevada through torture. You concocted a huge scheme that would’ve branded Connor as a human trafficker and rapist.”

Linus stared at her. “Victoria!”

“I had no intention of actually publicizing it,” she said.

“But you let Nevada think that you would. I can’t just sweep it under the rug. She knows. I know. You have to deal with it.”

I turned to Linus. “I’ve read the Conspiracy file.”

“Well, there is that,” he said.

“You didn’t tell me you were my grandfather. Why?”

He didn’t say anything.

“He’s afraid of rejection. He was an absentee father,” Victoria said. “Now he’s trying to be the benevolent grandfather. He was afraid that if the lot of you knew, you would shut him out of your lives.”

“That’s still a distinct possibility,” I said. “Arthur needs you, but I don’t. I can just quit being a Deputy Warden and a Tremaine, and never lose any sleep over it.”

“You want something,” Linus said.

“Arkan has a passive field.”

“Do tell,” Victoria said.

I laid it out for them, together with Konstantin’s offer.

“The nerve,” Victoria hissed.

“You can’t hurt him,” Linus told her.

“Never mind Konstantin. You are both horrible people, but you have decades of experience between you. I need to know how we can kill Arkan tomorrow. Brainstorm. Make some calls. Or he will kill Alessandro and I will run away to the Russian Imperium, and you will never see me again.”

We all knew it was an empty threat, but I felt good making it and I sounded convincing.

Victoria looked at Linus. “Go ask him.”

He growled and leaned back in his chair.

“You’re being greedy,” she said.

“I’m trying to protect them.”

Victoria shrugged. “There is a difference between protecting and shackling someone. I know where that line is. I cross it all the time. You don’t have to help. Just withdraw your opposition.”

“Do you trust Arabella’s judgment?” Linus asked me.

“In regards to what? Because she picks terrible cars.”

“Men,” Linus said. “Do you trust her to make the right decision for her relationships?”

“Absolutely.” I didn’t even hesitate. Arabella was a better judge of character than me.

Linus pushed out of his chair. “I’ll make the call.”

I unlocked my cell and handed it to him. He walked away with it.

“Is this something I’m going to regret?” I asked.

“No,” Victoria said. “He thinks he knows better, but he doesn’t always.”

“Did he really promise you access to us?”

She snorted and somehow managed to make it sound delicate. “Of course. At first, before he knew you existed, he promised to help me find James. That’s how he reeled me in. He said he was sure James was in Houston and he had seen him.”

And she would know he wasn’t lying. “And then?”

“As things with the Conspiracy progressed, he needed more help, so he told me that James died, but I could have my pick of the grandchildren.”

I would be mad at Linus for a very long time.

Victoria turned to me. “Why, Catalina? Why the Wardens?’

“It was complicated.”

“Oh, I know. He told me. But look at this mess we are in. This Warden thing threatens the survival of the family.”

“Do you know you nearly broke Nevada with that horrible scheme? That was a bigger threat to us than this.” I waved at the estate. “This is simple. We know who the enemy is. Nevada never expected you to stab her in the back.”

Victoria heaved a sigh. “Is she happier now, being the terrifying truthseeker of House Rogan? Did I free her so she could be a wife and a mother?”

“You and I will never see eye to eye on this.”

“And you think you will ever see eye to eye with Linus? This man has failed in every area of his life. He abandoned me and your father and went off to be a weapons merchant. Being a Warden is how he’s trying to atone for his sins. He is fanatical about it. After I began my sentence, he came to see me in prison. I was shocked. I thought, ‘Finally, a spark of humanity from that man.’”

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

“He found out that one of the Houses involved in the Conspiracy planted a mole in prison to watch me. He wanted to flush them out. I met him in the gardens, and he started prattling on about building a new Rome, and hating to be bored, and how the cause wasn’t dead.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help myself.

“I nearly strangled him. I should have strangled him. What would they have done, put me in prison? It is a miracle that man is alive. I get no credit.”

She shook her head and sipped her tea.

Victoria Tremaine’s battle cry. I do everything and get no credit.

“Why did he leave you and Dad?” I asked.

“I met him in a little coffee shop in New York. He’d had a fight with his grandfather and landed in the US with nothing except the clothes on his back. I had been looking for a donor for two years and I knew he was my best chance.” Victoria sighed. “We met, we talked, we did things that two young people do when they find each other attractive. He agreed to the donorship. I didn’t tell him the whole story about the surrogate, but he saw enough clues to put it together. Whatever his many faults are, your grandfather is not stupid. He chose to ignore it. Then when James was born, I brought our son home and Linus was over the moon. Your father was the most adorable baby in the world. For a little while we were a family.”

She looked off into the distance.

She had told a version of this story to Nevada. Like most things she said, it was a half-truth. Truthseekers had to actively concentrate to be able to tell when another truthseeker is lying, and Nevada had believed her.

“I knew it wouldn’t last. Linus had goals. He was ambitious. It was too easy, Catalina. Too nice and comfortable. He had a moment where he realized exactly how tempting it would be to stay with us and play house, and it must’ve scared him. He found the surrogate contract. He became upset. We fought. He left.”

“What was in the contract?” That was the second time she’d mentioned it.

“Misha was a vegetable, Catalina. There were people hounding her family hoping to get their hands on the new Beast of Cologne. None of them had the magic, but it didn’t matter. They had a child stolen. They consented to her use as a surrogate in return for protection.”

I put my face into my hands. “It gets worse and worse.”

“It’s my sin, not yours. To them I was the lesser of many evils.”

“Lesser evil is still evil.”

She didn’t say anything.

“Did you get their child back?”

“Of course I did.”

Linus came striding back. “Get your guards. We have to take a road trip.”