House of Strife (Poisoned Houses Book 4)

by Lyn Forester

  Relaxing my formal pose, I turn sideways on the couch to face him, and prop my back against the arm of the sofa behind me. This position also allows me to easily see Nikola and Skittles, the latter still perched on the arm of her chair, shoulders and head above everyone else in the room, hovering like a sky skipper around a tasty source of energy.

  No doubt she’s cataloging everything we say for future use, but Declan brought her into this, so we’ll make her work for the consultation fee he’s paying the Night Pirate.

  I meet Declan’s tired eyes and push away the pang of guilt that tells me to let him rest, to talk about this at another time. Unfortunately, time isn’t on our side and gentleness may lead to further death. “Tell us about the night of the reception.”

  He scrubs a hand through his dark-brown hair. “We left shortly before Lights-Out.” He glances at me, regret in his expression. “You’d left hours earlier, most of the Councilors had, but Dominick was having fun with his current paramour, and Ashley had vanished somewhere with one of the staff.”

  Nikola leans forward. “That left you alone?”

  Declan bristles. “My brother doesn’t exactly like having a babysitter during his dalliances.”

  I nudge his leg with the toe of my shoe. “He’s just trying to map out everyone’s locations. This puts Ashley and Dominick in separate rooms, their actions unaccounted for.”

  Skittles clicks her nails together, a discordant tap, tap, tap. “Any chance there was surveillance in the banquet room and the side halls?”

  Declan and I shake our heads, and I add, “It’s forbidden to record these kinds of events. Too much food and alcohol make people loose with their inhibitions. We all sign an agreement that what happens at celebrations goes unrecorded. It allows people to be more...free with their actions.”

  Nikola and Skittles exchange a knowing glance, and Nikola pulls out his palm port. “I’ll find out who had recording devices set up.”

  Declan frowns. “The room is swept for surveillance equipment by every House’s personal security before we entered the premises.”

  “How long before?” Nikola taps away at his device without looking up. “A time window will help narrow it down.”

  “You can’t be sure one of the hired security wasn’t paid off to look the other way,” Skittles murmurs.

  Nikola nods as if that was obvious. “I’ll start with the obvious breach point and expand from there.”

  “The rooms were swept an hour before our arrival.” Intrigued as I watch Nikola’s focus narrow, I can’t help but ask, “Why are you so sure there were recording devices?”

  Skittles snorts. “Room full of Leton’s elite. High Houses, Blue and White Guard officials, all gathered into one place? That’s an open bank vault no sane person would walk past.”

  Declan’s scowl deepens. “You mean no underhanded, immoral—”

  “House Vanderby, House Navicki, House Damba, both Mr. Blue and Mr. White, and a handful of other officials.” Nikola’s lips purse. “Those are just the obvious ones. I’m sure I’ll find more given time.”

  “You can’t possibly have uncovered that much so fast,” Declan scoffs. “Why bug the place if it’s that easy to find out?”

  “The penalty for breaking a privacy agreement for one of these events is minimal when compared to the wealth most of these people have at their disposal,” Nikola murmurs, focus still on his palm-port.

  Skittles grins. “The potential for blackmail material is worth the risk.”

  Nikola’s eyes briefly flick up to meet mine. “It’s why I kept us mostly in the main room.”

  Heat flushes my cheeks. “What about the viewing room?”

  “Your exchange with Connor isn’t worthy of blackmail,” Nikola reassures me. “You were properly chaperoned and, while risqué to kiss in public, you hardly made yourself indecent. Unlike many of the other attendees, House Arrington included.”

  “Back to my original question,” Declan breaks in, ignoring the information about my kiss with Connor. “The party was weeks ago at this point. How can you still find evidence of illegal surveillance? You didn’t have enough time to watch an hour’s worth of comings and goings.”

  “No, of course not. That will take more time.” Nikola sets his palm-port on the arm of the chair within easy reach. “While surveillance inside of the Councilitorium was deactivated, the Halls of Justice has a constant recording on Central Plaza. It’s one of the prime target points for an attack on any number of city officials. They’re currently running a beta program that tracks outside recording devices, even within buildings.”

  Skittles lets out a low whistle. “How’d they get that past the High Houses?”

  “In the testing stages, it doesn’t require the High Houses’ approval. They can experiment with it for up to eight season cycles before they are forced to either stop or present it for review and add it to the city’s security model.” Nikola’s fingers flex against the chair arm, but he leaves his palm-port where it lies. “The beta version is technically open to review at any point by members of the council. I simply used my access as acting-Secretary to review the recordings from that night. The software is quite advanced and information-heavy.”

  “That will never pass review.” Skittles sits unnaturally still, the gears in her head spinning. “How much longer will it be running? What phase are they on?”

  Nikola studies her. “You’re the paid consultant here, not me.”

  She eyes him. “You and I are going to have a meeting.”

  “If Caitlyn allows.” Nikola dips his chin. “My time belongs to her.”

  “I see now why they call you the Spider,” Declan murmurs, bringing their attention back to him. “You have your fingers in everything, it would seem.”

  Nikola’s face remains blank as he faces the other man. “All knowledge is worth having. It’s hardly my fault if not everyone holds the same belief.”

  “You didn’t think disc-bike knowledge was worth having,” I point out, attempting to ease the tension.

  His mask cracks, allowing a smile to peek through. “And you enlightened me to the error of that assumption.”

  “I did.” I prop my elbow on the back of the couch and rest my chin on my hand. “How will we gain access to the footage from these illegal recorders? And does the beta software pinpoint their locations in the building? There’s no point in going after everyone if a few will suffice.”

  “An astute question, Caitlyn.” Heat flickers in Nikola’s gaze, sending tingles of awareness through me. “Yes, it does.”

  “Hey.” Declan leans forward, his body cutting off my view of Nikola. “I’m sitting right here.”

  “I really don’t care,” comes his cool reply. “Where did your brother take Henry Navicki for their tryst, and where did Ashley go for hers? That will help narrow down which recordings to watch first. If one of them was infected with the poison while outside the main hall, that will help tighten up the timeline.”

  “You think one of them was the carrier?” Declan leans back again, his shoulders sagging. “But what about my mother and father? They didn’t go to the party.”

  “There are some poisons that spread through touch.” At last, Skittles gives up her perch to slide into the chair. “In what order did everyone become sick?”

  “Ashley was the first.” Declan swallows hard. “Then my mother and father, followed by Dominick and me.”

  “What about the staff?” I ask, thinking of the personal maid who used to help me in and out of my clothes before Nikola took over that position. “Did you help Dominick change that night once you got home?”

  Declan’s thick eyebrows pinch together. “Only with his coat at the door. He wasn’t wearing anything complicated. None of the staff reported illnesses.”

  “What about Henry?” I remember the twins saying Dominick’s young lover was at the Arrington House, fielding calls. “Did he get sick?”

  Declan shakes his head slowly. “Which means Ashley mu
st have been the one who spread it. I helped her out of the car when we arrived back at the house, and she clung to Dominick’s arm that night on the way into the house. She’d had a bit too much to drink. Or so we thought.” He pales, his hand rising to his mouth. “She had tea with my parents when we arrived home. They always like to hear about the parties. She...she hosts. She would have prepared their tea, touched their cups.”

  “And they would have swallowed the poison, affecting them faster than you and Dominick.” Whatever their differences, sympathy fills Nikola’s voice. “Poisons transferred through touch go one of two ways. Fast, leaving the person dead within minutes, or prolonged, to make it look like a natural sickness untouchable by medical treatment. This sounds like the latter, and your parents ingesting it was just an accelerant.”

  I frown, working through the information. “Why no illness in the staff, then? If it was transferred through touch, wouldn’t handling their clothes after they took ill have spread it further?”

  Declan nods in agreement, equally puzzled. “The maids, at the very least, should have fallen ill.”

  “Does Ashley’s personal maid assist her at night?” Nikola asks.

  “Of course.” Declan scowls. “She can’t be bothered to find her own nightgown.”

  He taps his fingers against the arms of the chair. “How long does tea with your parents usually last?”

  “They retired to their rooms at Quarter-Light. They didn’t wake back up.” Declan’s hand trembles, and I lean forward to take it, to remind him he’s not alone. “Neither did Ashley. Dominick fell ill sometime during the night. I didn’t find him until I went to tell him of our parent’s death. By then, I was feeling weak, like I needed to sleep another six hours.”

  Skittles folds her legs up, boots on the cushion. “What did the bodies look like?”

  I stare at her, shocked by the blunt question, but Nikola nods in agreement, and they both look at Declan expectantly.

  Declan glares. “They looked dead.”

  “No foam around the mouth? Blown veins in the eyes? Blackness around the gums?” Skittles presses.

  Angry, my eyes narrow on her. She’s simply naming off signs of poisons, trying to pin down which one was used, but surely there’s a less callous approach to gain the information?

  Beneath my hand, Declan’s clenches into a fist on his thigh. “They looked like statues, a grayness to their skin. Lifeless, but peaceful. I didn’t look under their eyelids. I can get the physician’s write-up. His analysis was thorough, I’m sure.”

  “What about the symptoms?” Nikola asks, his tone gentler to make up for Skittles’ brashness. “You said you were tired and felt weak. What else?”

  “A harsh, dry cough. I was thirsty, and no matter how much I drank, it didn’t help. It felt like my skin was drying up on my body. And I couldn’t keep anything solid down. Not even nutrient jell.” A tremor runs through Declan, and I worry once more about the toll being here puts him through. “The Rothven physician put me out for a couple days to stop my body’s natural rejection of food. Dominick was out for almost a week.”

  “Do you recognize the symptoms?” I look at Nikola, who shakes his head.

  When I transfer my focus to Skittles, she steeples her fingers. “I’m not in the business of poison. Too indirect for my taste. But I know some people. I can ask around and see what I can dig up. This kind of information doesn’t go over the wavelengths, though. People who deal in poison don’t like to be tracked. If I find someone willing to talk, you’ll have to meet them in person.”

  I shiver at that idea, but Declan and Nikola both nod in agreement.

  Nikola checks his palm-port and slips it into his jacket pocket. “Has Dominick given you any more information about why he thinks Mr. Blue was the one who poisoned him?”

  “No, he’s only just gotten out of bed.” Tension stiffens Declan’s body. “Now that he’s more coherent, it’s unlikely he’ll reveal more. He keeps things close to the vest.”

  “Try to find out what you can. Having a reason will give us a better place to start.” Nikola pushes to his feet. “We need to go before we’re caught here until next shift change.”

  Skittles bounces to her feet. “Don’t think you’ll be escaping without lining my pockets first.”

  Belatedly, I realize we still owe her for the palm-ports and folding-port.

  I release Declan, then rise and step past him. Withdrawing the unregistered credit stick from my pocket, I wait as she tells me the total, then transfer the funds. It’s not bad, and not nearly what I expected to pay for the devices and the use of her lift. Once the light flashes, indicating the transfer is complete, I hand her the stick.

  It disappears into her pocket, and she gives me a salute. “Pleasure doing business with you. I’ll contact you once I locate my poison dealers.”

  And just like that, we’re abandoning Declan again.

  I turn back to find him on his feet, resignation tightening his face. He looks so lost.

  I step back to his side, my arms wrapping around his waist. “We’ll be back. And you have the palm-port now. You’re not alone anymore.”

  His lips press against the top of my head. “I’ll be back in a week. Don’t do anything rash, okay?”

  Unable to make that promise, I bury my face against his chest.

  The track has already been chosen for us, and whether we want it or not, the countdown has already started.

  Just Sex

  I message Connor as soon as we reach the relative safety of the upper tunnel that leads back to APA. My heart pounds through the entire process. My night goggles press uncomfortably against my forehead, my eyes squinted from the over-bright screen on my palm-port as I type out a quick: we’re almost to the theater.

  Nikola stands behind me, his back a warm heat against mine, as he keeps watch back the way we came.

  As soon as the message sends, I switch the palm-port off and tuck it into my pocket before pulling my goggles back down. The world washes to calming shades of green, and Nikola turns, his own goggles sparking along the outer rim.

  Without speaking, I lead the way back toward school.

  The tunnel rises at a steady incline, and as we cross the barrier into APA territory, my ears pop, my steps suddenly heavy as the school’s gravity sets in. Suddenly, the incline I walked with ease becomes more difficult, my thighs burning while my body readjusts. Traversing the sky between city levels comes with numerous discomforts.

  When we reach the security door back into school, the red light bars our way. It had stayed unlocked last time. Did Nikola lock it behind us this time since he came with me? It’s safer this way. The unlocked door won’t alert any maintenance people who happen to pass by while we’re out. But it also means we’re reliant on Nikola as the only one who can crack these locks.

  What if something happens to him? We all need to be trained in how to pick the locks. And we need more than one lock picking device. I have no idea what they’re called, but I’m sure Skittles will know.

  Nikola steps up to the door, pulling the lock picker from the inner pocket of his jacket.

  I reach out to grasp his arm. “Show me how to do this.”

  He pauses, the plastic card halfway to the lock. “Not on this one.”

  “I can handle a little pain,” I insist.

  He glances down at me, his expression obscured by the ventilator mask and goggles. “I believe you. But it’s not an easy trick to learn, and this isn’t the lock to test your limits on.” When I still refuse to release him, he sighs, the small vents on his mask fluttering. “I’ll show you on the inner security door next time.”

  My hand falls back to my side, and I watch as he picks the lock. He adjusts the lights on the screen even faster this time, now familiar with where the bars need to be. It looks easy enough.

  The light clicks to green, and he tucks the device away before cautiously pulling the door open a crack.

  He peers inside, checking to make sure we
’re alone before slipping through. I follow, closing the door as quietly as possible. The narrow room behind the theater lays empty, just as we left it, and I look around it once more. I hate bringing the goggles and masks back and forth from the dorms. Our risk of being caught increases each time we do it. With that in mind, we stashed the bag of clothes in the office in Skittles’ building. I expected her to charge us a rental space fee for the convenience, but she waved it off.

  Hopeful, I search for a convenient nook for our use, but outside of the scaffolding, the rest of the room is barren, the walls flat.

  Nikola pulls off his mask and goggles, slipping them inside his jacket where they disappear without a trace.

  I eye the straight lines of his lapels, wondering at the designing genius who created a jacket that can hide everything I’ve seen Nikola stuff into his pockets. By all rights of physics, there should be lumps, the fabric pulled in places from the weight of his devices. Is it some new halion engineered fabric with magical anti-gravity pockets? Maybe there’s a reason he always wears that jacket.

  I drop my goggles down to my neck, then spin them around to hide beneath my hair before tucking the mask into the waistband of my pants.

  When I check my palm-port, Connor’s reply lights up the screen.

  I look back up at Nikola. “The theater’s empty.”

  Nikola strides for the exit out into the main room. “I’m surprised how little use this place gets.”

  “Me, too. Even with the limited channels, it’s still better than the news feed they play in the dorms.”

  As soon as Nikola opens the door, it flies out of his hand and Felix fills the opening. “How was it? Did you get the stuff? Did Dec meet up with you? Did he look healthier? You were gone so long. Did you eat while you were out there? Please say cake was involved.”

  “Let us out first.” Nikola shoulder bumps past him.

  Felix twists with a glare. “Someone’s in a bad mood.”

  “Your face puts me in a bad mood,” Nikola retorts.