Ruby Fever

Chapter 3

I dropped to my knees by Linus and clamped my hand on his neck. A pulse. Faint but there. I slapped his face lightly. “Linus! Linus, wake up!”

“Don’t bother.” Alessandro plucked a wrapper from the medical refuse on the floor and showed it to me. It was about the size of my cell phone with a label that showed a black river with an outline of a boat and a hooded boatman on it.

“What is that?”

“Styxine.” Alessandro rummaged through the contents of the first aid kit that had been dumped on the floor and pulled an empty syringe out. “Last line of defense against a mental assault. You inject it, and you’re dead to the world. A mental mage can’t attack a mind that’s not there.”

“How long does it last?”

“That depends. This shit is very bad for you. Sometimes you wake up after six hours. Sometimes you wake up after three days and don’t know who you are. Sometimes it lasts forever.”

“What do you mean ‘forever’?”

“You don’t wake up. You become a vegetable. No brain functions. This packet is double the recommended dose.” He frowned and held up an identical syringe. Also empty. “’Sto vecchio rimbambito took two of these.”

Oh my God. “Is there any way to reverse this? Can we give him something to snap him out of it?”

“If such a thing exists, I don’t know about it.”

Whatever I did next would determine if Linus lived or died.

The fear and anxiety that gnawed on me shattered like a glass bowl dropped on the ground, exploding into sharp shards. They sliced into me in an instant of pain, and I snapped into a calm place where only logic ruled.

To Alessandro and me, Linus Duncan was the Warden of Texas. To almost everyone else in Houston, he was the former Speaker of the Assembly, a man of impeccable reputation, who despite pretending to be retired, wielded a massive amount of political influence.

The current Speaker of the Assembly had been murdered, and now the former Speaker of the Assembly was attacked in his own home and found in a catatonic state. We had to contain this at all costs, or Houston would panic.

My first priority was to get medical treatment for Linus. My second was to hide his condition. And if Linus was conscious, he would tell me to reverse the order of the two.

Leon jogged down the stairs, saw Linus, and stopped. “Okay. That’s a hell of a thing.”

“Anything?” Alessandro asked him.

My cousin shook his head. “No. No signs of teleportation either. Looks like whoever it was killed Pete and walked out the door. I’d like to know how they managed that with the siege protocol active.”

The lockdown would’ve kicked in the moment Linus triggered it from the inside of the vault. He wouldn’t have risked taking Styxine unless he was in immediate danger, so he got into the vault, hit the siege panic button, and injected himself as soon as he could. Even if whoever killed Pete had immediately turned around and sprinted out of the house, the turrets would’ve gotten them before they ever made it to the gate.

“Also, I found this.”

Leon held up a Ziploc bag with a black DA Ambassador, a state-of-the-art .40 pistol from Duncan Arms. Pete’s gun.

“Where did you find it?” Alessandro asked.

“Behind a column by the front door.”

There was no reason for Pete’s gun to be there. He always had it. It rested on his nightstand when he slept. Someone must’ve killed Pete, picked it up, and then hid it behind the column before going out the door.

When the siege protocol was up, Linus’s turrets would ignore people with special clearance, but they would still fire on them if they carried a firearm. The attacker knew exactly how the system worked.

“The intruder had to have special clearance,” I said. “Like Alessandro and I.”

“Linus was betrayed,” Alessandro said.

“Who do you think?” Leon asked.

I shook my head. “We can figure this out later. Right now, we have to get him out of here.”

Linus couldn’t die. He just couldn’t.

“The house is a fortress,” Leon said. “Instead of risking transporting him, let’s just get a medic here.”

“I had to end the siege protocol to get into the vault and to let you in. Once the system is disabled, only Linus can reactivate it.”

Leon stared at me. “Define ‘disabled.’”

“Right now no door in this house can be locked. Doors that are already locked will remain locked, unless someone manually unlocks them, but the front door, the gate, the vault, everything that we opened, can’t be relocked. The turrets are off-line. The surveillance cameras are off-line. We are deaf, blind, and defenseless.”

Linus had no human guards aside from Pete and Hera, who was currently out of the country. They were his last line of defense, one he almost never used. He relied on his automated defenses instead, and right now all of them had about as much firepower as lawn gnomes. We were sitting ducks.

“Why the hell would he do that?” Leon asked.

“Because if he isn’t here to reactivate the system, he is either dead or incapacitated,” I told him. “He anticipated other people entering the house, like Warden personnel, paramedics, and law enforcement. Reactivating the system would be too dangerous. It could end in a bloodbath.”

Alessandro straightened. “Leon, take the lead. I’m going to carry Linus to the garage, load him into one of those suburban tanks he likes, and get him to the Compound.”

“Yes, let’s do that, before some random passerby strolls in to loot the mansion,” Leon said.

Above us something thumped.

A pair of semiautomatic handguns leaped into Leon’s fingers almost on their own. He moved to the right, behind the workbench. Alessandro scooped Linus into his arms. A USB drive clattered to the floor. I grabbed it. It was slick with blood. I put it in my pocket and wiped my bloody fingers on my T-shirt.

Alessandro carried Linus to the left, outside of line of sight from the doorway, gently lowered him to the floor, and flattened himself against the wall by the vault door. I crouched behind the workbench. From here I could see the stairs, but a person coming down the stairs wouldn’t notice me right away.

The sound of unhurried steps echoed through the empty house. The notes of a familiar melody floated down. A man was coming down the stairs, humming the “Triumphal March” from Aida in a well-trained baritone.

Leon turned to me and mouthed, “What the fuck?”

The humming grew louder. A pair of long legs came into view, followed by their owner. He was in his late forties, with wavy dark hair sprinkled with grey and cut in a politician style, neat and unoffensive. His features were handsome in that generic adult-male-in-good-health way. He wore a grey summer suit.

He landed on the last step and stopped, looking into the vault.

“About time you got here, Ms. Baylor.”

His voice sounded perfectly generic. No regional accent, no hint of origin. He would have been at home on any major news program.

“I was beginning to think I would have to carry the old man out myself. Needs must, I suppose.”

Alessandro frowned.

The man took a step toward the vault.

“That’s far enough,” Alessandro said.

The man’s eyes widened. “Sasha! You’re here too. Fantastic. This will simplify things.”

The man stopped and stared straight at us. Flames licked his chin. His face caught fire.

An illusion Prime. The only illusion Prime in my life was Augustine Montgomery, and he wouldn’t have bothered with a different voice or the fire show.

The flames blazed, shockingly orange. The air smelled of smoke. The man’s skin, hair, and clothes burned away, as if made of paper, turning into ash and then melting into nothing. He shook his head, flinging the last of the ash into the air. He was in his late twenties now, tall and broad-shouldered. His long legs stretched a pair of faded jeans. A blue Henley draped his muscular body.

His hair was that coveted shade of white gold people spent thousands of dollars to imitate. His skin had a golden tan, and his face wouldn’t just stop traffic, it would create a pileup that would require hours to sort out. A square jaw, full lips, high cheekbones, a strong nose, and large arresting eyes, warm and inviting, a deep ultramarine under the sweep of dark blond eyebrows. He looked like a celestial being knitted from sunlight and sea spray.

Wow.

The man smiled, and it was as if the spring sun had risen after a long dark winter.

“Prince Konstantin Leonidovich Berezin, of Blood Imperial, at your service.”

Berezin. As in House Berezin. The Russian Imperial Dynasty.

“Why are you here?” Alessandro’s voice was ice-cold.

“Because you need help.” The prince tried to sidestep Alessandro, except Alessandro moved with him, preventing him from entering the vault.

“Do we have to do this, Sasha?”

“Can I shoot him?” Leon asked me. “In the leg. I shoot him in the leg, we grab Linus and take off.”

“You can’t shoot him. He’s related to the Russian Emperor,” I told him.

“True,” Konstantin said. “When His Majesty wants to motivate me, he assures me that I’m his favorite nephew. Of course, he says that to all of us.”

“What do you want?” Alessandro demanded. His magic coiled about him, primed and ready.

If I beguiled a Russian prince in my capacity as a Deputy Warden, would that cause an international incident? Did it matter that he entered the house uninvited? What was the protocol here?

“It’s not a question of what I want. It’s what the Imperium wants. I am just a humble instrument of Rodina’s will. And right now, that will directs me to discuss things with the Deputy Warden. So, move aside or I will move you.”

Orange sparks flared around Alessandro. “Please do.”

Konstantin didn’t move. “I’d rather not. I’m taking great pains to be reasonable. I’m not here to brawl.”

“Turn around, leave the way you came, and you’ll survive. That’s my reasonable offer.”

Alessandro’s face had snapped into an expressionless mask. His voice was measured and calm. This wasn’t the Alessandro with whom I woke up every morning. This wasn’t the Sentinel, who was capable and decisive. This was the Artisan giving the first and final warning. Konstantin’s eyes told me he recognized who he was talking to. The charming warmth went out of him, as if an armored mental door had slammed into place.

I made it a rule to never jump off the cliff unless I knew where I would land. I had no idea what the ramifications of injuring a Russian prince would be. We could probably stop Konstantin between the three of us, but I wasn’t sure we could handle the consequences.

“Hypothetically, if I shot him, who would know?” Leon asked. “I could shoot him, hide the body, I know a place, and nobody could prove anything.”

The prince leaned to the side to get a better look at Leon. “We wouldn’t need to prove anything. We would only need to suspect.”

Linus was still unconscious. We didn’t have time for this.

I stood up.

The prince gave me a dazzling smile. “There you are, Ms. Baylor. Images don’t do you justice.”

“The Office of the Warden greets Your Highness. You are trespassing. Please leave this house.”

“We have things to discuss.”

“This isn’t a good time.”

“I’m afraid the matter is urgent,” Konstantin said. “I’ve been watching this house for the past three hours just to talk to you.”

I had no idea if anything coming out of his mouth could be trusted. He could’ve been involved in the hit on Linus, or he could have nothing to do with anything. Nothing mattered right now except getting Linus out of here.

“You know who I am, so you know where to find me. Right now, you’re interfering with my official duties. Leave immediately, or I will lodge a formal complaint with the Russian Embassy. I will be loud and public about it.”

“That would be . . . unfortunate.” Konstantin smiled again. “As I’ve said, I’m here to help.”

“The Office of the Warden thanks the Russian Imperium for its generous offer of assistance. At this time, we have to regretfully decline. Please leave.”

Konstantin sighed. “In that case, I have no choice but to respect your wishes. However, we do need to chat. Am I to understand that you wish to have this discussion at your place of business?”

Why did that sound like a threat? I needed to say something neutral that didn’t obligate me to anything.

“House Baylor welcomes clients during normal business hours. If you choose to visit us, we will be delighted to extend our hospitality.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Alessandro took a step forward. His voice promised violence. “Leave.”

Konstantin sighed and took a step back. “As you wish. I did my best. I hope neither of us has any regrets.”

He turned and walked up the stairs. Alessandro followed him.

“What the hell?” Leon muttered.

“I have no idea.”

Moments passed, dragging on.

Alessandro returned, picked up Linus like he weighed nothing, and slung him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Let’s go.”

Leon took point. Alessandro followed, and I brought up the rear. In seconds, we crossed the house and moved to the garage. Four armored vehicles waited on the concrete floor. I pulled the keys to a Duncan Arms Stormer off the key rack and started the engine with the remote. The huge white SUV roared in response. Of all the custom vehicles Linus owned, this was the best armored. It could withstand a mine detonation and a full blast from one of Linus’ turrets for ten seconds. Only his exosuits provided more protection.

I got behind the wheel. Alessandro loaded Linus into the backseat.

“Do you want me to ride with you or to follow?” Leon asked.

“Follow,” Alessandro said. “We may need a second vehicle.”

The only reason we’d need a second vehicle was if the Stormer were disabled.

Leon opened the garage door and jogged to his Shelby Cobra. Alessandro climbed into the passenger seat. Orange magic sparked, and a Duncan Arms rifle appeared in his hands.

I guided the massive vehicle around the driveway to the gates. We turned right on the one-way street, following Leon, made a U-turn, crawled over the first speed bump, and headed out of the subdivision.

“Sasha?” I asked.

He swore in Italian, too fast for me to follow.

“Who is he really?”

“Exactly who he says he is. The second son of Grand Duke Leonid Berezin, who is the younger brother of Emperor Mikhail II.”

“Alessandro, you are not giving me a lot to work with.”

He glanced at me, his eyes dark. “He has two brothers. His older brother is earnest, uncomplicated, the perfect heir of a Grand Duke, not too bright, not too dumb. His younger brother is a brawler, subtle like a bull on meth. Konstantin is a hedonist, who drinks, womanizes, and parties. You see what they want you to see. These are the roles they have been assigned. It’s not who they are. They are not men. They are wolves in human skin who guard the Russian throne. His presence here means the highest level of the Imperium is involved. He has a mission, and he will kill whoever interferes with it.”

“Can he kill us if we interfere?”

“One-on-one, I can take him. It would be a hard fight. But it wouldn’t be one-on-one. The Imperium would never send him here alone. He wasn’t lying. He might just be the Emperor’s favorite nephew.”

“None of this sounds good.”

“Yeah.”

“Could he be the one who attacked Linus?”

“I doubt it. Killing a Warden would be an act of war. At the very least, it would create a massive political mess. If he’d done it, he would’ve distanced himself from it. Instead, he presented himself complete with a grand entrance. No, my money is on Arkan.”

Before his life as an assassin kingpin, Arkan had been an agent for the Imperial Intelligence Service. The Russians let him retire instead of killing him, because they considered him too expensive to take out. Arkan had Luciana murdered, Linus had been attacked, and now a Russian prince was here with offers of assistance. All of this fit together somehow, but anything I thought up now would be pure speculation. We had to revive Linus.

We merged onto the Southwest Freeway. I picked up speed. “Is he still breathing?”

Alessandro turned around in his seat to look at Linus. “Yes.”

Leon’s vehicle slid behind us.

Linus had never mentioned any ties to House Berezin. As far as I knew, the Texas Warden had no interaction with the Imperium. We were a strictly domestic law enforcement agency.

I couldn’t lose him. He wasn’t just my mentor or my boss. He was a member of our family in everything except name. Arabella adored him, Nevada respected him, I relied on him. He was one of the cornerstones of my world. When I was in trouble, Linus would help. When I needed encouragement, he would offer it. When I needed a swift kick in the butt, he would deliver a scathing lecture.

I had taken all of this for granted. In my head, Linus was untouchable and eternal. Now he was an old man dying in the backseat of his car, and I couldn’t do a thing to help him.

Someone had hurt him. That someone would pay. I would hunt them down no matter where they went.

I told my phone to call home. We needed a medical team, a security lockdown, and a family meeting.