“That’s impossible.”
Christian shook his head. “The old leaders, including Kral, pushed hard to keep Bruja ‘true to its roots.’ Which means they passed up a lot of opportunities.”
“Alysia?” Jeht said, his voice breaking into their conversation.
“What?”
“Don’t mind me.” The human’s voice came from the shadows nearby. Sarik hadn’t been paying attention to anyone around them, and neither, apparently, had Christian, but Jeht must have scented her and recalled her from SingleEarth.
“Alysia, what are you doing here?” Sarik asked, now stretching her awareness to her surroundings. She didn’t think anyone else was near enough to overhear if they kept their voices down.
“Eavesdropping,” Alysia answered. “I should have guessed you shot Jason, Ben, and Israel.” Alysia’s voice dripped with all the disdain Sarik had expected.
She protested, “You don’t understand.”
“What don’t I understand?” Alysia replied. “You shot your boyfriend in what I assume was an attempt to frame me. What the hell was going through your furry brain?”
“Alysia,” Christian said, stepping between the two women, “now might not be the best time to—”
“No,” Sarik interrupted, “now’s good.”
“Are you in danger?” Jeht asked, his voice pitched just for Sarik.
“I hope not,” she replied, in his language, before speaking quickly to Alysia. “I knew you were from Bruja, all right?” she hissed. “Your file looked suspicious enough that when you moved in, I searched your belongings. What would you have thought if you were at SingleEarth and you suddenly found third-rank weapons from Crimson, Onyx, and Frost? I’ve never even heard of anyone that highly ranked in more than one guild, much less three.”
“I would have assumed someone like that was at SingleEarth to mess someone up,” Alysia answered. “If I had your history, I probably would have jumped to the conclusion that any merc might be there for me. I’m just missing how it’s a logical next step to shoot your boyfriend.”
“I panicked, okay?” Sarik snapped. “I had you in my sights, but then I couldn’t go through with the kill. I thought I could frame you, or scare you off, or all sorts of stupid things. I shot at people I could barely see because it was easier than killing someone I could put a name and a face to. I thought you would run once you realized you were being targeted, or that if you turned to fight, someone like Lynzi would take you down. The last thing I expected was for you to jump forward to protect people.” Softly, she added, “I didn’t know you. How could I? You’re not like any member of Bruja I ever knew.”
“Fair point,” Christian observed, breaking into the conversation.
“You understand you acted like a complete idiot?” Alysia asked Sarik.
Sarik nodded. “I hear you bring that out in people.” Christian snickered, and Sarik glared at him before asking Alysia, “Why is my father so afraid of you?”
Alysia shrugged. “He’s afraid of a lot of things.”
Kral had terrorized almost everyone around him for centuries, but for some reason, Alysia had him scared. “He offered two million dollars two years ago to get rid of you,” Sarik pointed out.
“Very flattering,” Alysia replied, “but I didn’t do anything you don’t know about. Kral’s a few hundred years old, and he has some gray hairs hiding under the Clairol for Men. The world moves on, but he won’t. He’s afraid of the modern world. He’s afraid of technology. And more than anything, he’s afraid of getting old and seeing someone younger—especially someone human—take what he built and change it from his image. He focused on me because I showed up when you disappeared. I’m the peppy human girl who replaced his carefully groomed, perfect heir. But the reality is, if it’s not me, it’s just going to be someone else.” She looked around to where movement in the shadows made it clear that some of the novices were getting brave enough to creep closer, trying to overhear their conversation. “Can I talk to you two somewhere a bit more private?”
“Sure,” Christian said.
“We can talk in my room,” Sarik said, feeling much the way she had when Alysia had first interviewed at SingleEarth: as if the following conversation might change her entire world.
Hopefully I can handle things better this time, she thought, before saying to Jeht, “I know you don’t understand what’s going on. Don’t jump to any conclusions.”
“I’m not objecting,” Christian said, “but just so everyone is aware, Kral may go insane if he hears that the three of us ducked into Sahara’s room together and one of us didn’t come out a corpse.”
“If you take Quean with you, I’ll guard the door,” Jeht said, guessing correctly that they wanted their conversation private.
“Don’t fight anyone who comes up,” Sarik told him. “Just knock.”
Jeht nodded. She had never intended to let him actually fill his role as her guard, but here she was, with a nine-year-old standing watch while she led the others inside and shut and locked the door. Quean sat in the corner, watching but instinctively staying out of the way. Alysia dropped the bag she had been carrying onto the bed and opened the top to reveal a small, familiar work of art.
The piece was ten inches square, painted, with an addition of silver leaf and finely embroidered threads Sarik happened to know were pure gold firestone. The frame was a combination of ebony wood and platinum designs she couldn’t make sense of because her eyes hurt when she looked at them. The gemstones set into the piece were not firestone, but rather a red diamond, a scarlet emerald, and then lines of black opal.
She was familiar with the work, of course, because it belonged to her father. It normally hung in his office or his interrogation room.
“How did you get that?” she asked.
“Broke into the greenroom and picked it up,” Alysia answered blithely. “His entire security system consists of a guy named Kevin.”
“The rest of his security system relies on the fact that most people in Onyx are not stupid enough to steal from him,” Christian pointed out. “I’m assuming you have good reason to flash it in front of his daughter.”
“Tell me, what’s this thing valued at?”
“The gems alone could be sold for over a million,” Christian answered promptly, “but you can’t peel them off without breaking the spell first, and it was beyond my abilities the last time I tried.” At Sarik’s shocked look, he added, “I’m not dumb enough to try to sell the whole piece. It’s too recognizable. The stones alone could be sold to any human jeweler who wasn’t too particular about asking their history.”
“Seven years ago, I bought a piece of gold firestone thread just about half a yard long from Pandora for fifteen thousand dollars,” Sarik volunteered, resigned. “That was with her ‘Onyx discount.’ It’s unbreakable, fine enough and light enough to fold anywhere, can be woven into a piece of rope to make bonds even a vampire can’t escape, and can be made into a garrote that will kill almost anything instantly. And Pandora is the only Triste I know who makes it, so it’s something of a seller’s market.”
“Any thoughts?” Alysia asked, handing it to Christian.
“Sure,” he answered. He took the painting but then set it in his lap instead of looking at it. “My thought is, you have a good reason to ask. So share.”
“There’s a contract up in Frost,” Alysia explained, “offering five K for this thing. When I read the offer, I vaguely recalled the painting, but I didn’t remember it well enough to know what it was made of, and the description just said things like ‘metal and wood frame’ and ‘red and black stones.’ But it matches perfectly.”
“Five thousand wouldn’t cover the risk of walking in to pick it up,” Christian answered. “I’ve heard of clients trying to swindle mercs by offering a lower price than an item is worth, but any idiot can tell this is worth more than that.”
“Who was the client?” Sahara asked. “Maybe he just wanted to bring my father down a not
ch by having it stolen and doesn’t actually care if you turn around and sell it.”
“Maybe,” Alysia said, “but then there’s the question of where it’s been. The item history on the number said Kral lost it in a bet with Maya, but I spoke to—” She hesitated. “I confirmed that it was in fact in Maya’s possession briefly, six years ago.”
“Kral lost a multimillion-dollar ritual item in a bet with a mercenary?” Christian scoffed. “Not likely. That painting has been around since we were … what, five or six?” he asked, turning to Sarik. She nodded. “And I would have noticed if it hadn’t been back in his office the next time I saw him after that job, which was … oh, two days later, something like that.”
“Why would you give a valuable, highly recognizable item to a mercenary?” Alysia asked. “Someone please tell me I’m wrong about what I’m thinking.”
“You’d use something like this if you wanted to pay for an important job but the merc was worried about getting nailed for it later,” Christian said. His voice had become heavy, and he was looking at Sarik with something akin to horror. “You’d use something people would recognize as yours so the mercenary could later say ‘I did this with your blessing’ if you tried to blame them.”
“And if that mercenary screwed up royally?” Alysia prompted.
“They would return the item.”
Sarik was listening, but she wasn’t listening, because what Alysia was suggesting was …
“My father didn’t kill Cori.”
But how many times had Kral told her that Cori was her weakness?
Cori, poor human Cori. Cori, who was the only living proof that Kral himself had human blood, because a pureblood shapeshifter couldn’t have a human child even with a human mother.
She looked at Quean, who was sitting on the floor and staring up at her with awe and trust. He didn’t understand a word they were saying. Didn’t understand that his new king had hired mercenaries to torture an eleven-year-old girl to death in an attempt to bring his other daughter back in line. Had Kral planned to “rescue” Cori at the last minute, to prove he was stronger than Sahara, but then Maya’s boys had gotten carried away? Or had he just planned to let Sahara find Cori’s mangled body so she would know how completely she had failed?
Knowing he had hired Maya even explained why Kral had assumed that Alysia was responsible for Sahara’s disappearance. He knew Sahara had been there, because Maya had told him. He also knew that because Maya was on his payroll, she wouldn’t have hurt Sahara. Alysia was the only other person he could blame. And he did.
“Christian,” Sarik said softly, “I know you are not here entirely of your own will, and it may not be entirely in your own interest, but …” The expression he gave her at that preamble almost made her stop, but she gulped and finished. “Will you stand beside me a’maenke?”
Christian frowned, probably trying to remember what the term meant, and then he looked at Alysia. He nodded and answered, “Once. Then I’m gone.”
“What’s the plan?” Alysia asked.
“Christian can explain,” Sahara answered. “I’m going to tell Jeht, and then … and then I need to find my father.”
CHAPTER 23
CHRISTIAN COULD EXPLAIN, but now that he had Alysia alone, he had another, more pressing question he wanted answered first.
“What’s your plan, Alysia?”
She looked at him like he was crazy, which he certainly deserved, and said, “I’m not the one with a plan right now.”
She has dreams. Did you know she’s in college?
“You left SingleEarth because of the attacks,” Christian said. “The attacks were the result of Sahara being there. She isn’t there anymore.”
It was the most direct way he could express the thoughts going through his head, because every fiber of his being was shouting, You idiot! If Alysia wanted to live in SingleEarth, she would be there. It isn’t like she needs your permission.
“Are you saying I should go back?” Alysia asked.
“I’m saying …” What was he saying? “It’s not a life I would choose for myself, but if it’s what you want … What I’m asking is, do you want to stay in Bruja?”
She hesitated, her gaze going distant. “Yes,” she answered, even though her tone said, I don’t know. Instead of explaining, she asked, “Do you know who runs the Frost board?”
The question was so out of left field that Christian thought at first he had misheard. “The Frost board?”
“The operator,” Alysia clarified. “The person who actually writes the posts. It’s not you.”
He shook his head. “I don’t have a clue. But I know he doesn’t like me.”
For weeks after Christian had won leadership in Frost, posts had randomly appeared on the board accusing him of killing Alysia so she wouldn’t compete against him.
Alysia smiled, but it was a distant expression. “You know that if I stay, once I’m back in shape, I’ll challenge you for Frost.”
“Why?” He tried to keep his voice utterly neutral as he asked what seemed like one of the most important questions he had ever uttered. Did Alysia really want the guild, or did she just want to get back at him?
“Because …” Was it just for the challenge? Because she was pissed at him for staying with Sahara, something he hadn’t yet had a chance to explain? Because she didn’t know what else to do? Any of those reasons would tell him she didn’t really want to be there. She looked up and met his gaze squarely as she said, “Because you’re wrong for Frost. You’re flashy and she’s subtle. You’re arrogant and she’s whatever she needs to be at any moment. You’re a bear; she’s a bear trap hidden in the woods.”
“And apparently ‘she’ is a girl,” Christian quipped, relaxing.
“You joke, but you know I’m right,” Alysia asserted. “I don’t know if Frost will have me back, but damn it, I know we need someone who doesn’t take three hours to figure out a giant tablet.”
There it was again—“we.” And this time it meant Frost.
“Let’s see what happens at Onyx, and then we’ll see about getting you in shape for Frost,” he replied.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on? I gather Sarik is going after Kral.”
“Normally,” Christian admitted, “when Sahara stands up to Kral, she backs down fast. This time? I don’t know.” He had seen the expression on her face. He knew better than anyone what Cori had meant to her. Beyond that, he knew she had noticed the way Kral had looked at Jeht. He explained, “She asked me to stand with her, which means she intends to challenge him within Mistari law, which she has on her side.”
Bruja rules were a little hazy, but generally, attacking guild leaders was frowned upon and not a way to earn guild leadership. On the other hand, Onyx wasn’t like the other guilds. Few people competed at Challenge. If Kral fell under Mistari law, Christian suspected that Sarta and Ravyn—the rest of the leadership—would accept it, if only because it was the result of Kral’s own arrogance.
“What does a’maenke mean?” Alysia asked as Christian quickly checked his weapons and then, reluctantly, started putting them aside.
“As her mate,” he answered with a wry smile. The term was technically applicable even if it was worlds away from describing their current relationship.
Alysia prompted, “Which means what, in this case?”
“A queen’s mate is the only one who can share a leadership challenge with her,” Christian answered. “Sahara can’t take Kral alone and she knows it. Until she declares satisfaction or submission, I’m allowed to fight with her.”
“Can you take Kral?” Alysia asked.
That’s the twenty-million-dollar question, isn’t it?
Christian laid his jacket down on the bed, because it was easier to take it off than to strip all the weapons from it, and because it would count as armor. He would have felt less naked without his pants.
“I really don’t know,” he answered. “But if Sahara can get the nerve to de
clare jeraha and follow through, then I’m willing to try.” His eyes drifted to the painting. “I liked Cori. She was a sweet kid.”
He had seen what they’d done to her. Sahara had run away, and he understood why. Christian was the one who had taken Cori’s body home to be buried.
“Be my second?” he asked Alysia.
She asked, “What do you need?”
“If Kral uses any weapon beyond his own body, or if anyone else interferes, you can shoot him,” he explained.
“Anyone?” Alysia asked. “If this goes down in the middle of Onyx, you’re going to have a lot of trigger-happy mercenaries wondering what this means to them.”
“Onyx belongs to Kral. If he can’t control his people, that’s his problem.”
“I’m technically one of those people,” Alysia pointed out. “Doesn’t that mean if I kill him in the middle of the fight, it’s his own fault?”
“You’re also one of my people through Frost, and arguably one of Sahara’s, given the way you two teamed up at SingleEarth,” Christian said. “Normally I’m not opposed to splitting hairs or outright cheating, but we don’t want to sever Onyx’s ties to the Mistari. It’s one of the most valuable political connections the guild has. There’s no point in taking Onyx if we destroy it in the process.”
“Jeraha is a fight to the death, isn’t it?” Alysia asked.
“Unless the combatants agree otherwise,” Christian answered. He couldn’t imagine Kral backing down until he was ready for a body bag.
“Just so you know,” Alysia said, picking up a couple of his discarded weapons and adding them to her own armament, “I don’t give a flying fruitcake about Onyx’s ties to the Mistari. If I need to decide between cheating and saving you, or playing fair and letting Kral kill you, you know which way I’ll go.”
“Yeah,” he said, though he also knew that if Kral took him out, it would probably happen too quickly for Alysia to do more than blink.
Kral had been around a long time. Maybe he was getting old, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still know how to fight. Christian could do a lot of damage in mere seconds with a touch, but so could a full-grown tiger.