by Karen Chance
His smile faded. “What?”
“Æsubrand said the idea was to use Geminus’s portal network to bring everybody over on the night of the attack. But then he was killed, and suddenly nobody knew where the portals were. Well, except for Varus, and he wasn’t talking.”
“And how do you know that?” Ray demanded—angrily, because this was starting to sound plausible and he didn’t want it to be true, any of it. “He’d have had to be in on it. He was Geminus’s second!”
“Yeah, but being a crook and a traitor are two different things, and it’s possible that cagey old Geminus hadn’t told his buddy exactly what he was planning to bring in. Either that, or Varus got cold feet. Either way, we know that because Varus stalled and contacted the Senate, once he understood what was going on.”
Ray started to say something else, and then stopped. “But Varus wasn’t gonna tell ’em any details until he got a deal,” he said slowly.
“Only somebody got to him first, used him to set up the only guys likely to stumble across this whole mess, and then killed him and dumped him in a portal.”
“Not knowing it was one I’d hacked.”
I nodded. “So instead of going someplace he’d never be found, he floated over to Olga’s. But a dead body didn’t tell us much, and someone has been doing a damned good job keeping me from remembering whatever I saw at the wharf. Giving the bad guys time to find another way to bring in their army.”
“But they couldn’t,” Ray argued. “None of the other bosses knew where Geminus’s portals were, and you can’t use what you can’t find!”
“Right. Which was why they decided to use yours.”
I could almost hear the record scratch as Ray slowly looked up from pulling on a pair of dress socks, and stared at me. “What?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No, damn it! This…none of this has anything to do with me!”
“Well, of course it does,” I said impatiently. “How many people do you know who have a portal network to Faerie? It’s not like they had a lot of choice!”
“But I…nobody ever…I wasn’t contacted—”
“Because you were in the Senate’s loving embrace. Nobody could get to you. Which was why they had to attack Central.”
“They—” He stopped and just blinked at me for a minute. “You know, people are always saying that you’re cuckoo. Looney Tunes. Off the freaking edge. But I tell ’em, no, she’s okay. She’s just got some…anger management issues. But you know what? They’re right. You’re nuts.”
“Frequently. But that doesn’t change the fact that the bad guys went into Central to get you.”
“They did not!” Ray said, the anger now mixed with a healthy dose of remembered fear. “That was Radu! Everybody knows the guy is some kind of crazy genius. If anyone was gonna figure out what they were up to—”
“It might have been ’Du, yeah. But think about it. Radu came and went to Central via the portal system. He never used the front door. He had a hard time even telling me what level he was on that night, because he’d almost never been in the elevators. So it wouldn’t have been possible for them to know if he was there or not.”
“They could of…assumed.” Ray scowled.
“Attacking Central was a one-time deal. Whoever they were going after, it had to be someone they knew was there. Not suspected. Knew.”
“But I wasn’t there,” he pointed out. “Or I wasn’t supposed to be. I’d been released—”
“And gone running to me. And the first time we left the wards around my house, what happened? What immediately happened? We were attacked.”
“By Zheng.”
“Who works for your old boss. Who, as you told me, is a major player in the smuggling trade. And who wanted you to bring in something big.”
Ray had been unfolding the tux pants, but he paused to look at me incredulously. “Something big like a bunch of crates. Not big like an army!”
“Well, naturally he would say that.”
Ray shook his head furiously. “It isn’t like I have any loyalty to the guy, you know? But Cheung…he don’t play that way. It’s like you said, there’s a difference between a crook and a traitor, and he’s no traitor.”
“He’s a smuggler and a triad leader.”
“Yeah? So am I. Or I was. Now I’m freaking Batman—”
“I thought I was Batman.”
“Yeah, right. Who shelled out like a year’s profits to the scalpers tonight, huh? Bruce Wayne had the money; Bruce Wayne bankrolled the operation. And Bruce Wayne was the Batman.”
The Batman currently had a knee on the seat and his ass in the air, trying to get the tux trousers on without putting any more wrinkles in them. Which left me staring at a bony butt covered in gaily striped red and blue silk. I didn’t know what kind of underwear The Batman wore, but I was betting that wasn’t it.
“I told you, I’ll pay you back for the tickets.”
“Sure, like you got that kind of money. Like you got any money. Hell, I should be subsidizing you.”
“Hey, that’s right. If I’m your master, don’t you owe me—”
“Nothing. That’s not the kind of deal we got.”
“I don’t remember us specifying what kind of deal we have.”
“Exactly.”
We were nearing the front of the line, where the light from the house was starting to illuminate the car’s interior, even through the tinted glass. So as soon as Ray zipped up, I pulled him back down. “Okay, say Cheung isn’t a bad guy. Say he was just offered a ton of money to let some people use your bastardized portal system.”
He nodded. “That I might buy.”
“Okay. So when he failed to come up with you, his clients were going to want to know why, right?”
Another nod.
“And Cheung probably told them that he couldn’t get at you, because you were back under the Senate’s control. He must have had people watching the house, waiting for another chance to grab you after Zheng failed. And they saw you drive off with Marlowe. Who took you back to Central. Which was when the bad guys decided that they were just going to have to go in and get you.”
“Attack Central. For me.” Ray still didn’t believe it.
“Yeah.”
“Then why did that creepy-ass necromancer say they wanted Radu?”
“Because they needed someone to get them through the portal, of course.”
Ray slowly leaned over, rested his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands. “I know I’m going to regret asking this,” he said. “But what portal?”
“The one at Central. The one that connects here.”
“No.”
“Yes. Look,” I said, forestalling another argument, because we were running out of time. “They needed a way to get their army here from Faerie, and a way to get it into the consul’s home without getting fried by the wards.”
“Stop. Just…stop. Okay?”
“No. And in fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if going in through Central wasn’t the plan all along. It was a little too well thought-out to be a seat-of-the-pants kind of thing. And with the focus on the consul’s home and the games, it wasn’t as well guarded as usual, and would be a much easier target than fighting their way in here.”
“I’m not listening to this.”
“And with a senator on their side…well, hell. They might not have had to fight for it at all. Good old Geminus could have offered to have his boys staff the place on the night of the finals, as a favor to the guys on duty. So they could watch the fights. And then just order his people to stand aside as a fey army waltzed in the door.”
“Do you hear yourself? Do you?”
“So maybe his death was a blow for more than one reason. But his allies figured another way to get inside, and it must have seemed like a dream that the Senate was actually keeping you right there. Sure, it was a hiccup when you were suddenly released, which was why they
contacted Cheung, thinking he was still your master and you’d be handed over to him. But you came to me instead, and then Marlowe took you back—”
“I’m begging you.”
“—and so everything was in place once again. You to bring their army in, and the portal to get it into the consul’s home. All they had to do that night was find you. And Radu, of course.”
I paused to check my makeup, and then stuck my compact in my little black beaded evening purse. If we wanted to blend in with the type of people who could shell out the price of a private jet for a ticket, I had to look halfway decent. Which would have been easier if I hadn’t tried to put on mascara during the bumpy ride over here.
“Geminus must have had the password,” I added. “As a senator, there would have been no reason not to give it to him. But he was dead. And it’s changed weekly, so even if he’d shared it with his allies—which I doubt—the one he’d had wouldn’t work. But as the senior person there, they assumed Radu would know the new one.”
“But you just said they didn’t know Radu was gonna be there that night!”
“But somebody had to have it, right? A portal isn’t much use if nobody can use it.”
“So why not get the password from the lead guy on duty?”
“They’d probably planned to. But he must have been killed in the initial assault, possibly vaporized when they went through the floor. But somebody told them Radu was there, or one of the zombies saw him—remember, the necromancer could see through his puppet’s eyes—”
“Yeah.” Ray shuddered.
“—and so they went after ’Du.”
“But they didn’t get him. They didn’t get either of us. They tipped their hand and got nothing!”
“Which is why they’re trying again tonight, at least according to Æsubrand.”
“And I don’t suppose he said how?” Ray asked sarcastically.
“He didn’t know.” I frowned at him, but not for the attitude. I was getting used to that. But because we were third in line now and he looked…well, less than a model of sartorial splendor.
Way less. His hair was sticking up in the back, his jacket sleeves almost covered his hands, and then there was that tie. That tie Would Not Do.
I grabbed it and pulled him forward.
“What?” he said, pulling back for a second, and then giving up. “You mean Mr. Know-it-all didn’t know the one thing we need to stop this? How convenient!”
“The bad guys weren’t the only ones to tip their hand last night,” I reminded him, trying to remember if it was over-under-over or the reverse. “Æsubrand did, too, when he showed up at Slava’s—”
“And ruined everything! If he wanted to help, he should have just let us have the fat bastard.”
“He said he would have, but he assumed I was there to assassinate him, and he needed Slava to back up his story. So he…intervened. And now he’s out of the loop.”
“And so are we. We have no freaking clue what they’re up to!”
Ray looked pissed, and I couldn’t blame him. Walking in there at all was bad enough; walking in with no real plan was…not bright. But the only clues were inside, and if I was going to figure this out, that was where I had to be.
And pray for inspiration.
“You don’t know what you’re doing, do you?” Ray asked.
It took me a second to realize he was talking about the tie.
“Women don’t wear these things,” I reminded him.
“Yeah, but their men do.”
I thought back to all the one-night stands, most of which hadn’t been with the kind of guys who owned tuxes. And none of them would have been likely to let me anywhere near their throat, if they had. Unlike a certain auburn-haired vampire, whose only reaction to my lips at his neck had been to hold me closer.
Before I fried his brain, that was.
I closed my eyes. He was going to be okay. He was Louis-freaking-Cesare. He was the ex-Enforcer of the European Senate, the only guy in memory to keep another first-level master as a servant, the guy who made other badasses suddenly remember their manners. He might look ornamental, but he was tough as nails and he was going to be okay. And so was Mircea. Because if things went south, I fully intended to grab them both and run like hell. Fuck the Senate; I was here for family.
“They didn’t stick around long enough for me to learn,” I said abruptly, and let him go.
And the next second, the chauffeur was opening the door and we were there.
Chapter Forty-two
That was the longest stair climb of my life. I didn’t look left; I didn’t look right. I don’t know what the hell I was looking at, because nothing really registered. If I hadn’t seen it from the car, I wouldn’t have even known which direction to go. All I could manage to do was to put one foot in front of the other and push.
Against POWER, like nothing I’d ever experienced. This wasn’t ants crawling over my skin, or even a few extra atmospheres. This was an unrelenting tide beating down on me, slamming into me, wave after wave and more with each step, until all I could do was focus on my feet and try to stay upright.
I noticed when Ray slid a hand under my arm, like an attentive date—and one who was exerting a lot of upward pressure to keep me from falling on my face. I didn’t know what he was feeling; maybe not that much, since he was a vamp, too. But I always felt like I’d picked up a pair of hundred-pound weights every time I got near this place, and my exhaustion tonight only made things worse. I was going to face-plant any minute if the damned stairs from hell didn’t end already.
Annnnnd they didn’t.
I faltered, but Ray caught me halfway down. “Are you okay, dear?” he asked, but with an edge that made it into “Get up or I’m leaving your ass here, I swear to God.”
I got up.
“Fine,” I croaked. And on we went.
And on. And on.
But it was like we’d somehow stumbled onto a down escalator. Because no matter how far we climbed, the top never seemed to get any closer. And it was beginning to feel less like stair climbing and more like mountain climbing, one of the really tall ones with no oxygen and no Sherpa to help carry the load.
And then I suddenly found the Sherpa, and he was riding on my shoulders. Along with a couple of his friends and maybe a yak. Because the consul was an anal-retentive bitch and she’d arranged the guards by rank.
That left the weaker ones, relatively speaking, at the bottom, and at the top…well, it explained why the blasts of power coming from both sides were no longer washing over me. They were slicing right on through and meeting inside my skull. And threatening to rip it apart.
I gasped at a particularly strong gust, and Ray’s grip tightened. “I told you not to wear those shoes,” he said, his voice strained. And then, “I’ll get you a drink when we get inside.”
“Sounds good,” I croaked, even knowing that it was a lie. Inside was an illusion that had never existed and never would because life consisted only of this infernal stairway and he had to be kidding me with inside.
But I gritted my teeth and pushed on, since there were exactly zero other options, fighting my way through air that didn’t feel like air anymore, but liquid. First water and then molasses and then something that was fast approaching a solid. And then I wasn’t moving at all, and was so far gone that it took me a second to realize that I’d just hit something.
It turned out to be Ray, who had abruptly stopped in front of me.
“A moment, dear,” he said, giving a little whinny of a laugh. “I have to give the man our tickets.”
I nodded, trying to look nonchalant…and then realized that I didn’t need to try. The ticket thing should have worried me, because it meant that we were no longer just two faces in the crowd but were being individually scrutinized. This was the moment of truth, when I was going to be recognized or not, depending on who was on duty, something I had absolutely no control over. It was the sort of thing I hated, the random chance in every missi
on that usually had my spine stiffening and my pulse racing and my fight-or-flight response kicking in big-time.
Except for tonight.
Tonight, I just stood there, too exhausted to care about a scrutiny I couldn’t see properly anyway. I looked around, because it would have seemed weird to do anything else in the face of a spectacle like that, but my eyes weren’t working right. All I saw was a blur of dark red and flashing gold and gleaming white and pitch-black. Until we started moving again, and the black abruptly changed to dazzling light.
And I stumbled, but for a totally new reason.
“Oh…oh God,” I gasped in dazed wonder, as Ray dragged me away from what I guessed was the front door.
“This way, this way, this way,” he chanted through clenched teeth, as I wafted around, feeling like I might just float away. Because the pressure, the horrible, horrible pressure, was suddenly just…gone.
“Stop it!” Ray hissed, as we found a wall somewhere.
“Stop what?” I asked thickly.
“That!” And he pointed me at something that turned out to be a mirror. And I guess my eyes worked now, because I managed to identify myself, looking slick and soigné and faintly French—and drunk off my ass. I was flushed and bright-eyed, grinning like a loon and still weaving a little. And the only reason we hadn’t already been nabbed was the sheer number of people who looked pretty much the same.
The place was packed.
“What—” I began.
“Spell to make the mages more comfortable,” Ray said, standing beside me and pretending to fiddle with his cuff links. “They can feel vamp power if there’s enough of us, and it makes ’em…jittery.”
“Mages?”
“Silly girl. You didn’t think vamps were the only ones who want to see the fights, did you?” he asked, still in character, because yeah, we couldn’t talk now.
Not that I was up to it. I was busy catching my breath, and watching the throng ebb and swell behind me, like a glittering tide. I was seeing them in the mirror, although it was a little unnecessary. The whole place looked like it had been dipped in varnish in the hours I’d been gone. The walls and floors and ceiling gleamed, almost mirror-bright, reflecting chandeliers brilliant as diamonds overhead, stretching in a long line down the wide main corridor to the ballroom.