“I will, on one condition,” I said.
“No.”
I planted my feet and drew myself up to my full height. These boots weren’t as tall as I would have preferred and Ian towered over me. “Do you think I came to Brava on a whim?” I asked. “Stupid Lady Bianca, wandering into danger for no good reason?”
“I’ve never said you were stupid,” he gritted out.
“You didn’t need to,” I said quietly. “Actions speak louder than words, and your actions tell me exactly what you think of me.”
Something stark flashed across Ian’s face before he smoothed his expression.
“I came here because my best chance of finding Ferdinand is here,” I whispered fiercely, aware we were still in public. But the wind and rain would muffle my voice, and I was not leaving without a fight. “Tell me you’ve found him and I will return home without a peep. Tell me you have a solid lead—and what it is—and I will get in the transport. But if you can’t do that, then promise me that you’ll accompany me to my hotel to pick up the rest of my things and then you’ll hear me out.”
“You’re staying in a hotel,” Ian ground out, “in Brava. Are you insane?”
“It’s in the flower district,” I protested. “And don’t try to change the subject.”
“It’s in Brava,” he snarled.
“Do you have a lead on my brother or not? Because I do.”
“Get in the transport.”
“Your word, first.”
“I will accompany you to your hotel to gather your things,” Ian said.
I’d pushed him as far as he was willing to go for now, so I climbed into the transport without protest. I set the destination before Ian could change his mind. I pulled out my secondary com and prayed for a message from Guskov.
My prayers went unanswered.
It was midevening. There were still plenty of hours left in the day, so I didn’t give up hope yet, but Ian would be far less likely to care about the possibility of a meeting than an actual meeting.
“What were you thinking?” Ian asked.
His tone, a combination of incredulity, impatience, and anger, immediately put me on the defensive. I took a deep breath instead of responding. If I didn’t have myself under control, then once I started, I wasn’t sure I could stop before I said something I would regret.
“I have explained myself. Repeatedly. But I will tell you again: my singular focus is finding my brother.”
Ian ran a hand down his face as if he, too, searched for patience. “Have I ever given you a reason to doubt my loyalty to House von Hasenberg?” When I shook my head, he continued, “Then why do you think I won’t do my job and find your brother?”
I blinked in surprise. “I don’t think that at all. You’re one of the best trackers I know.”
“Then why do you keep insisting on throwing yourself into trouble and splitting my attention?”
I let the spike of anger at his phrasing roll over me like a wave, leaving behind calmer waters. “Just because you are good doesn’t mean you wouldn’t benefit from some help. All of my siblings are searching for Ferdinand in their own way, despite the fact that I’m the best at finding information. I don’t begrudge them the help; I’m happy to have assistance. I told you to let me run. It was your decision to get involved.”
“Unfortunately for you, you are not in charge of House von Hasenberg and therefore are not my boss. When Albrecht tells me to retrieve you, I have to listen, even if it takes me away from my search for Ferdinand.”
“I refuse to be returned to a pretty cage,” I said flatly. “Try it and next time I will do more than sneak out quietly.”
“I’ve already patched the security hole you used to get access to the cameras. There will be no more sneaking out.”
My smile was sharp enough to cut. “You just found the one hole, then? Not holes, plural?”
“Enough, Bianca!”
I stared out at the dark city flowing past the transport’s window. If I couldn’t win Ian to my side, I wasn’t sure what my next move would be. I could shoot him. Rob had returned the blaster with the rest of my gear, but I didn’t have a stun pistol, so I would be inflicting true, lasting damage. Did I want to become that kind of person?
“Silva has Ferdinand,” I said quietly to the rain outside.
Ian cursed under his breath.
“I haven’t quite figured out how or why, but I know there is no time to lose or they will break him beyond hope. Even a von Hasenberg will shatter eventually.” I hoped Ian wouldn’t notice the bitter bite in my voice.
The universe was clearly not in a giving mood today because he asked, softly, “Did you?”
I closed my eyes against the warm flood of tears. Von Hasenbergs didn’t break and we certainly didn’t cry. We picked ourselves up, put the broken pieces back together as best we could, and carried on as if everything were okay.
So I did just that, blinking away the tears and continuing. “I’ve heard rumors that the Syndicate is throwing one of their parties soon. If anyone knows when or where it is, Guskov will, but he only meets with contacts in person, here, in Brava. I didn’t come here because I was stupid. I came here because I was desperate.”
Ian silently followed me up to my hotel room. I’d fled the transport before he could respond and now he seemed to be biding his time. It made me jumpy as hell because I knew the attack was coming, I just didn’t know when.
As soon as the door clicked closed behind him, he exploded on me. “Guskov? Your contact on this godforsaken planet is Peter Guskov?” He looked like he’d like to pace, but the room was too small.
“You know Guskov?”
“Of course I fucking know Guskov! I’m the director of security for a High House. It’s my job to know people like Guskov. It’s also my job to keep that murderous bastard far, far away from you.”
“Can you get a meeting set up with him without jumping through his hoops?” I asked hopefully. That would speed this process up considerably.
When he didn’t respond, I tried again. “Ian, can you—”
“No,” he bit out.
“I’ve already been to his shop. I’m waiting on the follow-up,” I said. “That seems like our best option.”
“No,” he said again. “You are not meeting with Guskov.”
“I am.”
“You’re returning home to House von Hasenberg.”
“I’m not.”
Ian looked prepared to argue, so I threw all of my hopes into the basket of one “murderous bastard.” “If I am wrong and Guskov doesn’t have any relevant information, I will return to Earth with you without any further protest.”
“What makes you think I need your cooperation?”
I flinched then cursed myself for showing it. I straightened my spine and pulled my public persona tighter. I clenched my fists until my nails dug into my palms under the cover of my cloak. “Perhaps you don’t. Perhaps you planned to drag me home sedated and compliant all along. But your job still involves finding my brother and I have a solid lead on his location. Are you going to ignore that just to punish me?”
Ian ran a frustrated hand through his damp hair. “Dammit, Bianca, I’m not trying to punish you. I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“I’ve dealt with Guskov before. Alone. And I was fine. I’m not some defenseless hothouse flower with no sense; I’m the daughter of a High House. I take risks, but they are carefully calculated. If you stopped treating me like an ‘empty-headed princess’ and started treating me like an equal, perhaps you would see that.”
Ian stood like stone, staring at me with an unblinking gaze. I could see the wheels turning in his head as he weighed his options. Finally, he said, “Suppose Guskov does have information on a Syndicate party. What is your plan then? Crash it?”
“Telling you my plan before I secure your cooperation would be foolish,” I said drily. “But nice try.”
“How sure are you that he has information?”
“Sure enough to stake my freedom on it,” I said with far more confidence than I actually felt. Guskov was a wild shot in the dark. But I only agreed to return to Earth; I didn’t agree to stay there. If I failed here, I would try again elsewhere.
“If I agree to let you meet with Guskov, you will promise to immediately return to Earth and stay there, without complaint, until your father releases you from house arrest.”
The sneaky, underhanded bastard. I shook my head. “If Guskov knows where the Silva party is, you need me. You won’t get within ten light-years of the place before they sniff you out and kill Ferdinand just to avoid you. I’ve dealt with them before. They will meet with me because I’ve proven that I am trustworthy. And that I have exceedingly deep pockets.”
Ian raised his eyebrows. “You plan to buy your brother back?”
I shrugged. “Agree to my terms and I’ll tell you. We go meet Guskov together. If he has information about the party, you agree to accompany me to it. If he doesn’t have any information, I will return to Earth without a peep of complaint.”
“And stay there until your father releases you,” Ian added.
If I made the vow I’d be trapped by my own honor, something I took seriously. Ian had neatly boxed me in. Decline and he’d know I wasn’t as confident as I seemed in Guskov’s information; accept and potentially lock myself in a cage of my own making. But the other option was Ian dragging me home anyway, so I had to take the risk. “And stay there until Father releases me,” I agreed.
Ian’s smile looked a lot like victory.
I retrieved my hidden credit chips while Ian watched with an increasingly incredulous expression. I gathered up the rest of my things and then sat on the bed before popping back up and pacing in the tiny room, too agitated to sit still.
Ian leaned against the wall and stared at his com. He thought he’d won already, so I felt zero guilt at reading all of the messages he was sending and receiving. I pulled out my own com and pretended to use it while I focused on his messages. Concentrating on one signal was easier than trying to sort through all of them, but it still gave me a headache.
My persistence was rewarded, however, when I pieced together what Ian was doing—he was working on a side deal with Guskov, despite the fact that the man didn’t usually deal in electronic form. He wanted Guskov to tell me that he didn’t have any information on the Syndicate party, whether or not it was the truth.
Hurt warred with fury. Fury won. I held it close and let it burn away the pain. I carefully built my public facade, walling myself off from everything except cold determination.
It was nearly midnight by the time Guskov contacted me. I glanced at the message. “Guskov wants to meet in half an hour,” I said. “Does that work for you?”
“Yes, the sooner, the better,” Ian said.
“Very well,” I said. “He is sending a transport. It will be here in five minutes.” I stood and gathered my things.
I moved past Ian toward the door, but he stopped me with a hand on my arm. “Are you okay?” he asked.
Fury tried to rise but it was buried under a mountain of ice. “Of course,” I said with a cool smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You don’t have to go to this meeting,” he tried again. “He’ll meet with me as your representative.”
Oh, I just bet he would. And he would miraculously not have any information. I would be carted back to Earth while Ferdinand continued to suffer. The weight of the ice surrounding me was a comforting buffer against the pain. “I am prepared for the meeting. We should be going.”
Ian released my arm with a frown. “Let me go first.”
I swept a hand toward the door without a word. He paused for a long moment, then led the way downstairs. The rain had stopped, but the wind still whistled through the streets and tugged at my cloak as we stepped outside.
A sleek black transport waited for us, perhaps a bit nicer than most in Brava but otherwise indistinguishable from the exterior. The interior was a different matter. The space was luxurious and came with a small, built-in synthesizer for custom cocktails. But look past that and you would find the transport didn’t have any windows or the ability to input a destination. Climb in and you were at the mercy of whoever had sent it.
I entered and sat on the right. Ian sat across from me. The transport door closed and the wireless signals in the air died. Interesting. Whether by design or as a consequence of the lack of windows, the transport acted like an isolation room.
The ride took twenty minutes, long enough that if we’d flown in a straight line, we’d no longer be in Brava. The transport door opened to reveal a small, unadorned hangar. A burly guard in a black suit indicated we should enter the door next to him.
Ian stepped out of the transport then offered me a hand. As much as I’d have liked to decline, we were being observed. I took Ian’s hand and allowed him to assist me from the vehicle.
The guard said, “All weapons must be left with me. They will be returned when you leave.”
I removed my blaster and knife and handed them over. Ian produced a remarkably large pile of weapons, including a pair of blasters, three knives, and a stunstick. Where had he been hiding it all?
The guard held up a scanner and ran it over both of us. He nodded at me. “Mr. Guskov is waiting for you, Lady von Hasenberg,” he said.
“Thank you.”
We were ushered through the door and into the room beyond. It was as lavish as the hangar was sparse, with real wood floors, thick silk rugs, and delicate antique furniture far nicer than anything in his shop. This was not his house—Peter Guskov was no idiot—but it was one of his finer meeting sites. He was playing nice.
The man in question stood at a sideboard, pouring himself a drink. He was a bear of a man, nearly two meters tall and barrel chested. He wore a dark blue suit with a white shirt and silver tie. He had a full, dark beard, neatly trimmed, and his black hair was cut stylishly long, brushing over his ears.
He wasn’t handsome, not in the traditional sense, but he was arresting, like a viper wearing a shiny bow. Gold rings glinted from the fingers he’d wrapped around the heavy crystal tumbler. He raised the glass in salute. “Lady Bianca, I am delighted you could join me. Would you care for a drink?”
“Mr. Guskov, thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice,” I said. “I would love a glass of wine, if you have a bottle open,” I said.
“For you, my lady, I would open a cask,” he said with a charming smile. A servant stepped out of a hidden door carrying two bottles. He approached and showed me the labels. Guskov had selected two bottles of wine from a winery I owned through a shell company. I laughed and inclined my head. Point to him. “The white, please,” I said to the servant. He bowed and retreated to the sideboard to open the bottle.
“And for your guard?” Guskov asked, as if Ian Bishop were a normal bodyguard and not the director of House security.
“Nothing for me,” Ian said. Guskov kept looking at me, ignoring Ian. Interesting.
“Nothing for him.”
The servant handed me a glass of white wine. I raised my glass in a silent toast to our host, then took an appreciative sip. This vintage had turned out to be lovely.
“Come, sit,” Guskov said, indicating a pair of leather chairs. He waited for me to sit, then sat beside me, leaving Ian to hover at my side. The move had to be intentional, but I didn’t know what game he was playing.
“What can I do for you, Lady Bianca?”
“I am looking for information on the next Syndicate party,” I said, cutting directly to the heart of the matter. “I have reason to believe it’s soon. I need to know when and where.”
“And you think I have this information?” Guskov asked.
“I think if anyone does, you do,” I said with a smile.
Guskov sat without speaking for a few seconds, then said, “You’re right. If the Silvas were having a party soon, I would know.” He paused again, his dark eyes sharp. “The Syndicate is no
t having a party. Your information is wrong.”
I hummed quietly, not quite in agreement, not quite in disagreement. I had to give it to Guskov, he made lies sound like truth.
“How sure are you?” I asked.
“Absolutely,” he said.
“Then swear it’s true on Svetlana Guskova’s life.” Rumor had it that Peter Guskov would throw every member of his family under an oncoming freighter with one exception: his paternal grandmother, Svetlana Guskova. She was one of the only living members of his extended family, thanks in part to those pesky oncoming freighters.
He didn’t flinch, but he watched me carefully. “You don’t trust my word?”
“You told me you were absolutely sure about your information, so I don’t see any reason for you to hesitate now. Unless, of course, you are not absolutely sure, and you know that I would take a vow on your grandmother’s life literally. I do not suffer betrayal lightly.”
He kept his expression perfectly blank. “If you don’t trust my word, then I believe we are done here. Do not come to me again.” He stood.
I remained sitting. “I always liked you, Peter Guskov, because I always thought you dealt true. And yet we’ve come to this.”
Ian tensed beside me, a tiny shift that I caught out of the corner of my eye. Whether it was because he knew I was on to him or because he thought Guskov might attack was anyone’s guess.
Realization dawned in Guskov’s expression and he dropped back into his seat. “You know.” He looked from me to Ian and back again, then anger reddened his cheekbones. “You were testing me?” A blaster appeared in his hand, pointing lazily at my chest. Ian moved closer to me. “I do not care to be tested.”
“No,” I said, the word sharp. “I am being betrayed from multiple directions tonight. I am just dealing with you first.”
I’d caught both men off guard. Ian was better at hiding the surprise, but I’d bet my fortune that he was furiously trying to figure out how I’d intercepted his messages.
Begrudging respect glowed in Guskov’s eyes, and he inclined his head. The blaster disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Point to me.
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