Ruby Fever

Chapter 17

Arabella took a turn at thirty miles per hour in an armored transport not designed for it.

“I’m sorry about Pete,” I told Linus.

I had finally given him a detailed account of everything that had happened. He had already heard the summary from Arabella, but there were things she didn’t know about.

Linus didn’t say anything. Pete had been with him for almost twenty years. He wasn’t an employee; he was a friend.

“What about his son?” he asked.

“I had MII stash him in a safe location until this is over.”

“That’s good,” Linus said. “Still angry with me?”

“Yes.”

I was going to be angry for a very long time. I had compartmentalized it the way I compartmentalized my fear and outrage when I dealt with Victoria, my revulsion when I had to process a crime scene, or the deep anxiety I felt when Konstantin looked at me a moment too long with that longing in his eyes. I’d learned that I could do that. It was my superpower. But it didn’t mean I forgave or forgot.

“You should’ve told us,” Arabella said from the driver’s seat.

“That I was your grandfather or that I was Caesar?”

“Both,” we said at the same time.

“You were not ready for it.”

“It’s pointless,” I told Arabella. “He thinks he is always right.”

“No,” my sister said. “One time he thought he was wrong, but he was mistaken.”

“We could’ve really used a grandfather twelve years ago when Dad was dying,” I said.

“I didn’t know.” Linus sighed. “After I left, I only saw your father once. I was coming out of a building and this young twenty-year-old kid bumped into me. I saw his face and it was like looking in the mirror. He said, ‘I never asked anything from you. Keep her out of Houston.’ That evening Victoria called me. She thought James was in Houston and wanted me to help her find him.”

“What did you do?” Arabella asked.

“I manufactured a trail that led to Seattle and made sure she found it. I tried to find him, but I had nothing, not even a last name. Victoria had taught him how to hide. She was paranoid that if something happened to her, he might be targeted because he had no magic, and she made sure he knew how to disappear. When he did, she thought she could find him again, but he was smarter than both of us. I didn’t realize who Nevada was until I learned she was a truthseeker and ran a background check. Your father’s driver’s license made things obvious.”

The parking lot of the Office of Records didn’t look nearly as bad as I thought it would. There was a crew working on the hole in the building.

“I was a lousy father,” Linus said. “I’m working hard to be a good grandfather. I do love the five of you.”

“Don’t worry,” Arabella said. “We love you too. Even if you are terrible sometimes.”

Right now, the only emotions I felt toward Linus were anger and hurt. There were probably other things there, deeper under the surface, but those two blotted out everything else.

My sister parked, and we got out and walked to the building. The lobby of the tower was pleasantly cool. Linus spoke to the receptionist.

Arabella looked around. “Hm.”

She had insisted on coming. I wanted to take Leon or Alessandro, but she was convinced that if she didn’t go with us, something terrible would happen to “Grandpa.” She had adjusted to his grandfather status awfully fast.

“Stay in the lobby,” I told Arabella. “If someone blows up our car, don’t try to save it.”

“Yes, yes. Because armored transports grow on trees and are super cheap to replace.”

“Linus is awake, he will deal with any damages.”

“Uh-huh.”

The elevator door whispered open, and Michael stepped out. His gaze slid over Linus and me and stopped on Arabella. She stared back at him, unperturbed.

A moment passed. Michael stood aside and indicated the elevator with his hand. Linus and I boarded, he followed, and we rode the elevator up to the fifth floor.

Déjà vu.

A couple of moments later we entered the round library. The Keeper met us by the couches.

“Prime Duncan, Prime Baylor. We are glad to see the Office of the Warden back to full strength.”

“I come here today as a private citizen,” Linus said.

The Keeper’s black eyes narrowed. “How can we help you?”

“I need to know how an antistasi can kill Ignat Orlov.”

“Please give us some privacy, Michael,” the Keeper said.

Michael nodded and left the room.

“What do you want?” Linus asked, his tone blunt.

“You know my price.” The Keeper’s tone matched Linus’.

“Done. I withdraw my objection. I will not hinder but I will not facilitate either. It is up to them. This is my best offer.”

“Perfectly satisfactory.” The Keeper smiled and for a moment his teeth looked too sharp. “Wait here.”

He disappeared into a dark alcove between the shelves.

“What just happened?” I asked Linus quietly.

“Nothing yet. This was not what I wanted, but this is the one time I cannot get my way.”

“Can you just explain it to me?”

“No. You wanted to save Alessandro. This is the price. Trust me. I would never put any of you in harm’s way.”

The Keeper emerged with a stack of paper and a pen and handed them to me. “How is your command of arcane artistry, Ms. Baylor?”

“Expert.” Now wasn’t the time for false modesty.

“As I thought. Pay close attention, for I will explain this only once.”

Darkness spiraled out of the alcove behind the Keeper, drowning the room.

“Don’t move,” I muttered.

“It tickles,” Alessandro said.

“You are supposed to be a badass with iron discipline. Endure.”

He sighed.

“Don’t sigh either. Small shallow breaths.”

I anchored my wrist on his muscular back and drew another tiny glyph in a complex pattern that spiraled around his neck, over his chest, over both arms, and onto his back. He stood in the living room in the house we shared wearing nothing except a pair of black briefs.

It was afternoon and the sun flooded through the windows. We returned from the Keeper of Records to some nasty news. The PAC, the mercenary company headed by Berry, Connor’s nemesis, was on the move. House Rogan’s contacts advised my brother-in-law that someone had hired Berry to attack his and Nevada’s estate. They were mobilizing for a decisive strike, which was to take place first thing tomorrow.

Everyone agreed that Arkan was using Berry to tie up Connor and Nevada. Everyone also agreed that there was nothing to be done about it. Berry had numbers and skilled personnel and he was highly motivated. Apparently, the client had paid PAC a single dollar to ensure their participation. House Rogan couldn’t ignore this. We were on our own for this fight.

My fingertips were going numb, and I still had half of his back and both thighs to go. It was him, me, my notes, and an art marker with Shadow as the audience.

“Ready?” Bern asked from the phone on the coffee table. I had him on speaker.

“Go,” Alessandro said.

“Sample 1.”

Arabella’s voice came from the phone, haunting and persistent. “You’re going to die. This is your last warning. Leave, and we will not pursue you. Save yourself.”

“Sample 2.”

A slightly different intonation. “You’re going to die. This is your last warning. Leave, and we will not pursue you. Save yourself.”

“Sample 3 . . .”

Apparently, my sister could sound remarkably menacing when the occasion called for it.

“The third one is the scariest,” I said.

“The first one,” Alessandro said. “She sounds like a younger sister guilt-tripping you.”

“Our vote is for the first one as well,” Bern said.

“It’s your concert,” I told him. “First it is.”

He hung up.

I kept drawing. The glyph pattern wasn’t difficult to understand. It was just hellishly complicated to draw.

“Konstantin was in your office for a while today,” Alessandro said.

“Mhm.”

“What did he say to you?” he asked.

“He thinks you will die tomorrow.”

“I won’t.”

Damn right, you won’t. That’s why we were doing this.

“Anything else?”

He wasn’t going to let it go. I knew that tone. “He thinks Princessa Catalina Jamesovna Berezina has a nice ring to it.”

The muscle under my fingers went rock hard. My marker slipped.

“Damn it.” I reached for a cosmetic wipe and scrubbed the ruined glyph from his skin. “Do you want to be here all evening?”

“Yes and no. I had plans for tonight.”

Ah ha. “Were you naked in those plans?”

“Yes.”

“Well, see, they came true.”

I redrew the glyph and knelt to get better access to his side and hip.

“In my plans, we were both naked.”

I glanced up at him. “Would you like me to take my clothes off?”

His eyes flashed with orange. “No, it might not be safe.”

“You’re doing your seductive voice again.”

“I’m so sorry,” he purred. “Is it distracting you?”

“A little bit.”

“Clearly, I need to try harder.”

“You need to hold still so we can finish this. Don’t talk.”

I redrew the glyph and kept going.

“Konstantin does bring a lot to the table,” Alessandro said, as if thinking out loud. “He can look like anyone, which provides endless variety in bed. He is wealthy, powerful, and witty. Able to hold a stimulating conversation. And then of course, the perks of being a royal. The bowing, the rituals, the status. The family would benefit by association.”

I stopped and looked at him.

He gave me that sharp and funny Alessandro smile, the one that made me stare at him like a lovesick idiot every time he did it.

“But to get all of that, you would have to put up with Konstantin every day. And that would be a fate worse than death itself.”

“Are you done?” I asked him.

“Possibly.”

“I’m so glad. Please stop talking.”

“I love you, Catalina.”

I growled at him.

“You are so smart and beautiful.”

“Alessandro, shut up.”

“Your wings are breathtaking.”

I would punch him.

“You cook like a goddess . . .”

“Damn it!” I threw the marker on the floor.

He grabbed my hands and pulled me upright. His eyes were like molten amber. “Every time I wake up next to you, I feel like the luckiest man ever born. I can’t believe you chose me. You have all of me forever. In this whole world, there is no one like you.”

He touched my cheek with his fingertips and kissed me. There was so much tenderness in that kiss. It was made of love and hope, and it broke me. I had been trying to keep it together for so long, but no defense could’ve stood up to that.

He wiped the tears from my face with his fingers and touched my forehead with his. We stood an inch apart, the glyphs still drying on his skin.

“Don’t die tomorrow,” I told him.

“I won’t. I promise.”