“Are you truly sorry or are you trying to make nice so that I’ll listen to you tonight?” I asked. “And remember, you promised me the truth.”
“I’m truly sorry. I should’ve apologized as soon as I realized how my words could be taken, but I have my own stubborn streak. You may have noticed.” His grin was tinted with self-deprecation. “But I also don’t want to go into a dangerous situation while we’re fighting.”
“Ian, I’ve said this all along, we don’t have to fight. If we worked together, we’d be unstoppable. But you have to trust me to be able to do what I say I can. I don’t boast without cause and I know my limits. If I can’t do something, I’ll tell you. If I suggest something, it’s because I think I can do it.”
“I know,” he said. “I’m not used to people who are so self-aware. One of your brothers would insist he could scale a building barehanded and with one leg missing.”
“I see you’ve met Benedict,” I said with a grin. I loved him to pieces, but Benedict was not one for modesty, false or otherwise.
Ian smiled, then turned serious. “Do you have a plan?”
I took another sip of bourbon before answering. I wouldn’t be able to finish the glass, but I let the liquid courage warm me. “Based on my contacts, Riccardo Silva is the representative attending tonight.” Ian winced. “I see you’ve heard the same rumors I have. Have you worked with him before?”
“No, and I had hoped to keep that streak going. You’ll have to charm him. Try to get him alone, or as alone as you can with the various bodyguards in attendance. He won’t deal in public because he has an image to maintain, and he might try to double-cross you.”
“He will definitely try to double-cross me,” I said. “Do you have any weapons that will pass a scanner?”
“A blaster and a few knives, nothing major.”
“I’ll take what I can get. So we find Riccardo, get him alone, and negotiate for Ferdinand. They won’t have him here, so where would you like to do the swap?”
“Sedition,” Ian said at once. “Your sister’s contacts will help, the Consortium doesn’t have a military presence to put the Syndicate off, and it’s public enough that they will be less likely to cause a bloodbath.”
I didn’t miss that he said “less likely” rather than unlikely. Good thing we were all optimists here.
The codes in the invitation had been accepted by the spaceport ground control. Fortuitous settled on a narrow temporary landing pad next to a half dozen other such pads.
The ship wouldn’t be allowed to stay on the ground, so I’d given Aoife and Alexander piloting privileges. Aoife had argued for five minutes that she should come with us, but the invitation was good for only two guests. If we ran into trouble, we’d be on our own. It would take ten to fifteen minutes for the ship to land to pick us up.
I stopped by my quarters to check my appearance one last time. The mask obscured the upper half of my face, making my darkly lined, golden-hazel eyes stand out. I had a short, thin dagger tucked down the front of my dress and another strapped high on my left thigh. Ian had assured me that they wouldn’t show up on a scanner. He was carrying our only blaster because a tuxedo was far more concealing than this dress.
The silver shielding cuff circled my left wrist and my right was unadorned. Compared to the current fashion, I was practically plain. I hoped I would fade into the edges of the crowd.
I met Ian in the cargo bay. He had added a thin black mask that made him look more like a bandit than a security guard. It was a good look.
The cargo bay door was open and the ramp was lowered. “You ready?” he asked.
I took a deep breath and sank into my cool public persona. I would have to maintain the facade for hours tonight. “I’m ready.”
Ian stepped close enough that I had to tilt my head back to hold his gaze. “You look amazing,” he said quietly. “You’ll have the room at your feet.”
There was only one person I wanted anywhere near me and I wanted him higher than at my feet. “Thank you,” I whispered. Nerves threatened my icy facade, and I added, “Please stay close.”
“I will,” he promised. He offered me an elbow and escorted me down the ramp. Aoife and Alexander were supposed to delay taking off until we’d successfully entered the party. If Yuko’s invitation was bad, we’d need a quick exit.
The landing pad had a temporary plastech path leading to the door of a large three-story building. A soaring, triangular glass atrium carved a line through an otherwise boring building. It could’ve been an office building in any number of cities, but in Matavara, it stood out. I wondered how many of those glass panels they’d had to replace before the party.
Inside, a wide, faux marble staircase led up to the second floor. Soft music drifted from the open doors. Directly in front of us, a half dozen security guards manned a body scanner. At least six more guards were stationed around the edges of the room and I saw the tip of a blast rifle barrel sticking out of the third-floor balcony.
The Syndicate was taking no chances with security.
A security guard in a form-fitting tuxedo stepped in front of me. “Invitation, please,” he rumbled.
Ian produced the invitation and the guard scanned it with his com. My heart stumbled when the guard stared at his device for what felt like forever. Finally, he waved us forward with a smile. “Enjoy the party. Remember the rules.”
We walked through the body scanner one at a time and von Hasenberg tech proved its worth as we made it through without setting off the alarms. Of course, if we passed the scanners with weapons, then others had, too, so it was more about leveling the field than having a firm advantage.
A guard looked through my clutch, which held nothing more than a makeup kit and my com, then handed it to me with a nod.
Ian fell back behind my right shoulder. I climbed the stairs slowly, with measured steps—shoulders back, chin up, public persona firmly in place. This world belonged to me and others were merely allowed to live in it.
That really should be the House von Hasenberg motto. Or House Rockhurst or House Yamado. In fact, every High House thought it owned the universe.
The ballroom’s walls were draped in soft fabric, and glittering crystal chandeliers illuminated a crowd of nearly two hundred. Most of the guests and their guards were masked, but a few brave souls were showing their faces for all to see. I recognized a few people both from the lower houses and from outside the Consortium entirely.
“Keep an eye out for Riccardo,” I murmured to Ian. We were both miked and wearing tiny, hidden earpieces. The number of signals flying through the air was enough to give me an immediate headache. People chatted politely in small groups, but behind the scenes, their coms were working overtime, transmitting recordings and looking up data.
Around the edges of the room, curtained alcoves offered glimpses of the evening’s more adventurous entertainments. Naked bodies writhed under—or over—mostly clothed guests; a gorgeous, naked brunette was being lovingly tied with silken rope by a masked woman; and two men fought with bloody knuckles and bleeding noses while a crowd cheered and bet.
I mingled throughout the room, avoiding the fringes and gracefully moving from group to group with the ease of long practice. Rumors about the attack on House von Hasenberg and the war between us and House Rockhurst were rampant. No one had any real information, but everyone wanted to talk about it.
My face ached from holding both my tongue and my polite smile. The next person who lamented that Bianca von Hasenberg hadn’t been shot was liable to get a hair pin in the eye.
“You’re glowering,” Ian murmured. He grazed a featherlight touch across the exposed skin of my lower back to direct me around a drunken guest.
I shivered, but refused to be so easily distracted. “I’m about to do more than glare,” I growled back. So far, Riccardo Silva had been decidedly absent. If we went to all this trouble and he failed to make an appearance, I didn’t know what I would do, but I vowed it would be properly d
ramatic. I’d get his attention one way or another.
An older gentleman in a white tuxedo with graying hair, deeply tanned skin, and a slim build approached. A mask covered the upper part of his face, but his smile was warm. “Your dress is a work of art,” he said by way of greeting.
“Thank you,” I said. “I happen to agree.”
“Would you care to dance?” he asked. When Ian stepped closer, he clarified, “In full view of your guard, of course.”
“No, thank you. I appreciate the offer, but I don’t dance.”
“Then please allow me to escort you around the room. That dress is meant to be in motion.”
I accepted his offered arm and let him lead me on a circuit of the room. “So, are you a fashion designer or just a connoisseur of women’s dresses?”
He laughed, a deep, pleasant sound. “Ten seconds and you already have me figured out. I’m a designer. And I’m betting your dress came from High Street.”
“You have a good eye.”
“When you’ve been in this business as long as I have, you learn to recognize the competition.”
“So what’s a fashion designer doing at a Syndicate party?”
“Hoping to negotiate for cheaper, better materials. The Consortium is killing my business.”
It wasn’t the first time I’d heard the complaint. Consortium taxes could be outrageously high, depending on how much pressure they wanted to put on a certain business or sector.
“And what do you do, my lady of good fashion sense?”
“I deal in information,” I said.
He paused and turned to me. “I don’t suppose you could find me a new line on materials?”
I laughed lightly. “You’re single-minded, I’ll give you that. But no, I don’t deal in that kind of information. I could do it, but my fee is so high you’d lose any benefit the information would give you.”
He started walking again, until we returned to where we’d started. He bowed over my hand and offered me a card. “The next time you’re in Honorius and need a new dress, come see me. I may not be on High Street, but my dresses are no less beautiful. Even the High Houses will be envious by the time I’m finished with you.”
“Thank you. I look forward to it,” I said. I tucked the card into my clutch and bobbed a shallow curtsy.
The ballroom was nearing capacity as more and more guests arrived. The heat was stifling and I regretted not bringing a personal cooling field. On the far end of the room, wide glass doors were thrown open to an outside balcony. I headed that way. I just needed a few minutes of fresh air away from the din.
Small groups of people mingled on the balcony. I moved away from them, to a secluded corner. No breeze moved the air, but it was still nearly ten degrees cooler out here than in the ballroom.
“Are you okay?” Ian asked.
“Yes, just hot and frustrated.”
“Perhaps I can help with one of those,” a masculine voice interrupted. His accent was lilting, nearly musical. “I’ve been watching you all evening and I must say, that dress is my new favorite thing. But it would look even better on my floor.”
I turned to face the newcomer and it was only through years of practice that I didn’t roll my eyes at the terrible line or show my surprise when I came face-to-face with Riccardo Silva and his two bodyguards.
Riccardo was a handsome man, with blue-green eyes and warm olive skin. He wore a black tuxedo, perfectly tailored. Dark, curly hair gave him a tousled, touchable look. He was taller than me in my heels, but only just.
“Oh,” I murmured, letting my voice go husky, “is your floor particularly attractive? Because I find it hard to believe that anyone could wear this dress as well as I do.”
“Perhaps you should come with me and find out.”
It couldn’t be this easy. Ian must’ve thought the same, because he stepped closer.
“I don’t even know your name, Mister . . .” I trailed off meaningfully.
“Riccardo Silva, at your service,” he said. He bowed over my hand, pressing a lingering kiss, complete with tongue, to the back of it.
It took every ounce of willpower I had not to knock him senseless. Instead, I let my eyes go wide. “The Riccardo Silva?” I asked, breathless.
“The one and only. This is my party. All of these people are here to see me.”
“I see you,” I whispered. It sounded like a threat, so I hurried to add, “You’re gorgeous.” And he was. But his eyes gave him away—they were entirely predatory, not a hint of warmth.
“So, shall we take this conversation somewhere a little more private?” he asked.
“I can’t leave my guard,” I said with a little moue of distress.
Riccardo leered at Ian. “He can watch. I don’t mind. These two do it all the time.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder at his guards.
Ian was practically plastered to my back, he was so close. I felt him tense and subtly elbowed him. It was almost certainly a trap, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t use it to our advantage. Lili had said that Riccardo thought he was smarter than everyone else and liked to play with his prey.
So let’s play.
“Where did you have in mind?” I asked.
“I have a room upstairs that overlooks the ballroom. I could have you against the window and no one would know.”
“Hopefully I would know,” I said with a flirtatious smile.
“Why don’t you find out?”
“Maybe I’m not that kind of woman,” I hedged. Without being able to talk to Ian, I’d have to make up a plan as I went and hope he figured it out before we were both killed.
“In that dress? Please,” Riccardo scoffed.
I made a mental note to knee him in the balls at the first opportunity. I forced my mouth into a coy smile and hoped the murder in my eyes was masked. “You’re right,” I managed to get out without choking. Barely. “Let’s see this room of yours.”
He held out his left elbow, forcing me to hold it with my right hand. With the clutch in my left hand, I appeared far more harmless than I was. I wasn’t as strong left-handed, but I could still drop the clutch and stab him somewhere that would hurt, given the opportunity.
I flashed Ian a meaningful look. We had to act before we made it wherever Riccardo was leading us or we were toast. He nodded slightly in acknowledgment.
Riccardo placed his hand over mine, trapping my right arm. One of his guards followed directly behind us, then Ian, then the second guard.
I focused on the signals immediately surrounding us, and pain burrowed into my head. One of the nearby guards sent a message: Target acquired. On the move. Oh yeah, they were on to us.
Riccardo led me back into the ballroom, but stuck close to the wall. He held his arm over the chip reader of a side door and we slipped through into a service hallway. A pair of guards flanked the door. One of them fell in behind us. We were now outnumbered by four to two, not counting the other guards spaced throughout the hallway.
Riccardo’s bodyguards weren’t visibly armored, but their suits fit so poorly it was a good bet that the material was reinforced, which might be enough to stop my little dagger. If Riccardo’s suit was reinforced, I couldn’t tell.
We stopped at the elevator and one of the guards pressed the button. The elevator would have to be it. Fighting in such an enclosed space would work against us, but it would work against them, too. Presumably they didn’t want to kill Riccardo, so it would be nonlethal close combat. They’d try to subdue us, because if Riccardo wanted us dead without talking to us, he wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble.
The elevator dinged and the door slid open. Empty. I silently thanked the universe for small miracles. Riccardo and I stepped inside. The three guards paused at the door, drew blasters, and turned on Ian, preventing him from entering. He lunged for the closing elevator doors, but one of the guards tackled him, stopping him just short.
Ian’s furious eyes met mine just before he disappeared under another guard. “I
will come for you,” he vowed. “Wait for—” The earpiece emitted a sharp whine then went silent. His mike had failed.
The doors slid closed and the elevator started upward.
“Well played,” I murmured, burying both my worries and the flutter Ian’s promise had elicited.
“We meet at last, Bianca von Hasenberg. Did you really think I wouldn’t know who you were?”
“Do you actually use any of those terrible lines on women?”
He laughed. “No. I wanted to see if you’d break cover. Your restraint was admirable.”
“You came close to physical harm.”
“No, I didn’t,” he said with careless confidence.
I could use that confidence against him, just as Gregory had once used my own confidence against me. Confidence was great right up until the point that it became overconfidence and blinded you to danger. I just had to wait for the perfect opportunity because I would get only one.
Chapter 16
The elevator opened, revealing a basic office furnished with inexpensive faux wood furniture. Power cables crisscrossed the floor, leading to a pair of temporary desks loaded with multiple displays. Riccardo jerked his head and the man and woman behind the desks scurried from the room.
On our left, a wall of tinted windows overlooked the ballroom. I moved to the glass and Riccardo followed. Below, the colorful crowd mingled, unaware of our vantage point.
I turned back to him. “I expect my guard to be returned to me unharmed when I leave.”
“So sure you will be leaving?”
I let some of Mother’s icy hauteur slip into my tone. “Yes.”
Riccardo laughed. “My sister said you were a cool one. Perhaps I should crack that ice you wear like armor.”
“Are you sure you’re ready to face what you would find? Perhaps this shell isn’t for my protection, but yours.”
Riccardo’s eyebrows climbed his forehead. I’d set him off balance. Good. I needed to keep him there. “I’ve come for my brother, as I’m sure you know. I’m prepared to pay handsomely for his rescue and care.”
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