The Kinsmen Universe

by Ilona Andrews

  The beast dipped his head to stare at her. She looked into his eyes and saw the familiar intellect glaring back.

  Venturo.

  No. No, this couldn't be.

  The beast leaped.

  Claire ducked left, her instincts taking over. A clawed paw came down a hair from her shoulder and she struck with her talons, slicing the bronze fur. The triple tail whipped around, catching her flank. Pain stung her, followed by a sharp spike of heat. Poison. Nice.

  Claire shot to the side, rolling out of the claws' way, and strained. Bloody spray shot out of wounds on her side, expelling the poison with it. She sealed the wound.

  The beast turned his head and stalked after her, the huge paws raising tiny puffs of dust from the rocky surface of the spire.

  They leaped at once, flying at each other. His claws raked her side in a searing rush of pain. She bit his neck, ripping through the coils of tight muscle, but his flesh was too thick to reach bone and she withdrew.

  Venturo's blood burned on her tongue.

  She had to make it to the bridge. It was her only chance. She couldn't bring herself to kill him.

  Dark blood poured from the wound on Venturo's neck, wetting the bronze fur. He took a precious second to seal the gash.

  Claire concentrated. She shuddered and split herself, throwing four copies of herself, three to the right and one to the left. Five identical scarlet cats snarled in unison.

  Venturo took a step back.

  Her copies rushed him and Claire jumped over him, throwing all her speed into a desperate leap.

  The triple tail whipped around her, squeezing her like a noose. He'd seen through the phantoms.

  She shot her back whiskers into his ribcage, turning them into hard spears in mid-strike. He snarled in pain and she slapped her own tail to slice at his face, trying to skewer him with the spike. He hurled her back. She flew through the air and smashed into the jutting rock wall. Her ribs cracked. The impact shook her vision into a haze.

  Claire jumped to her feet and leaped right, left, jumping like a lunatic rabbit to avoid being hit. Her vision cleared and she saw his gaping maw diving down. Claire slapped his face with her paw, her claws raking four deep gouges on his cheek. The blow knocked him aside. He jerked back and they snarled at each other, face to face.

  Fire shot from Venturo's eyes, dashed down his fur, and he stood before her engulfed in flames.

  The Element Weaponry. The pinnacle of the psycher bionet training. If she had time, she would have bowed in appreciation.

  He advanced toward her, menacing, flames swirling around him. She feigned fear and backed away.

  A step.

  Another.

  She would not get another chance. This was her very last one.

  Her hind paw found air. She was to the edge of the spire.

  Venturo leaned forward, the fire roaring around him.

  If he was fire, she would be ice.

  Glacial mist shot from her. Claire charged into the depth of the inferno. His fire licked her ice barrier.

  They collided.

  Claire let go, emptying every last reserve. Spears of ice shot from her, locking him into blocks of ice. She saw his enraged eyes before the ice swallowed him whole.

  Claire ran. She ran like she had never before run in her life, swallowing distance in hungry gulps. She tore through jungle, ignoring branches and thorns tearing at her hide. Her mind fired brisk, calm commands, sending the signals down the established links to her team.

  "Disconnect. Mission complete. Disconnect now."

  A roar of pure rage shook the jungle. Ven had broken through the ice. A mere five seconds, maybe less. It had to be some sort of a record.

  She had no way of knowing if her team had made the hub, so she just kept broadcasting. "Mission complete. Incoming threat. Disconnect."

  Her mind shuddered under the strain. Her legs began to cramp. Every breath was a fire exploding in her lungs. Up the mountain, up, up, up.

  She whirled at the mountain top and dared a single look back. A fiery glow was making its way through the canopy below. He was close. Claire ran.

  The world began to fade. Darkness encroached. She was running too fast.

  Venturo's furious growl shook the leaves behind her.

  Claire burst into the hub clearing. Charles-Bull ran in a circle around the hub fountain, chased by an AI dog.

  "I'm the last!" he cried out.

  "Disconnect," she commanded.

  The AI beast leaped at her, and she crushed its spine with one impatient snap of her teeth.

  The bull vanished, exploding into dark ribbons.

  Venturo shot into the clearing.

  She let go of the bionet, hurling up the tunnel into the hotel room. A long shuddering moan ripped from her lips, and Claire took her first breath.

  The reality of the hotel room slammed into her. She sat up and pulled the unit off her head.

  Mittali lay on her back next to her, wincing as Tonya rubbed her feet. Charles was breathing hard, as if he'd carried a sack of rocks up a mountain. Zinaida smiled at her. Saim waved. In the corner Kosta sat in a clump, dark head hung down.

  Everyone got out alive.

  The medic stood by the hub, a glass vial in his hand. Acid, she guessed. "Dump it."

  The medic poured the acid into the liquid interface. The liquid hissed as synthetic neurons boiled into nothing.

  "Are you alright, Kosta?" she asked him.

  "He got careless," Saim said. "He was bitten."

  "May I?"

  Kosta nodded.

  Claire swept over his mind. The lesion was small, but his mind glowed with the imprint of the AI's teeth.

  "It will be alright," she said. "Just stay off the bionet for about a month."

  He nodded.

  "I saw him," Charles said, his voice filled with wonder. "I saw him. Was that a psycher?"

  "Yes," she told him.

  "It's a miracle we're alive," he said. "You are that miracle."

  She shook her head. "You've had no experience and no weapons. You've made it possible."

  "We should drink," Saim said.

  "Yes. Yes, that's a great idea," Mittali rolled to her feet. "Ow. As soon as I can walk."

  "Don't worry," Saim told her. "Tell me what you want, and I'll bring it to you."

  Doreem Nagi rose off his chair and walked over to Claire.

  "It is done," she told him softly. "Your grandson should be safe."

  The old man bowed to her.

  Chapter Six

  Claire walked down the hallway toward Venturo's office. The shell over her mind was paper-thin. Accreting it took time, and she had barely had thirty-six hours to recuperate.

  Saturday night, after she'd returned to her apartment, she pulled the ingredients out of the refrigerator and continued her aborted cooking attempt, convinced that any moment Security Forces led by Venturo Escana would barge through her door. She'd finished the Dahlia Three-Color Stir-Fry and ate it. It wasn't as good as she had hoped, but it wasn't at all bad. Considering the bland food on which she grew up, her taste buds probably needed a lot of education to fine tune her palate. Or perhaps the anxiety that made her jump at every stray noise interfered with her ability to enjoy the meal.

  Claire had taken a long, luxurious bath and, exhausted, fell asleep in the bathtub. She dreamed of Venturo, of his green eyes, of his bronze skin, of wanting to kiss him. Her dream-addled imagination conjured the taste of his mouth, the feel of his hands on her body as he stroked her, the weight of his muscular body pressing on top of her. She awoke to a cold bath.

  He was as powerful as she had expected and more. When she thought about their fight, the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

  When she finally crawled into bed, she realized that she had gotten away with it.

  He would never find out who she truly was. She curled into a tight ball and lay there for hours, her thoughts too loud, the phantom images of Venturo sliding back and forth across
her memory.

  Now it was Monday. She was once again the calm, collected Claire. She walked to her office, a comfortable nook on the side of Venturo's glass cage. Today the glass was opaque, frosted with white by a privacy switch. Ven didn't want to be disturbed. Just as well.

  She barely had a chance to put down her bag when Lienne approached the office, marching down the hallway.

  The older woman nodded at her. "Claire, about the Berruto analysis. I know it was last minute, so if you want to take a few days, it will be fine."

  Claire flicked the stylus across the digital screen projected onto her desk and smiled. "It's in your inbox."

  Lienne glanced at her tablet. "So it is. Thank you."

  "You're welcome."

  The older woman regarded her for a long second and rapped her knuckles on the opaque door. The frost melted from the glass. Ven sat inside. He was wearing a bionet suit. Dark circles clutched at his eyes.

  Claire forced herself to sit down at her desk and look busy.

  Lienne stepped inside the office and crossed her arms. Her mind sent a focused thought.

  "Rolando said you and Claire had an intimate dinner in the Roof Garden on Friday."

  Ven grimaced. "Rolando needs to keep his mouth shut."

  "I've warned you about this, Ven."

  His face looked grim.

  "I'd gone to see Sangori. Claire insisted on coming with me, because apparently I 'shouldn't go alone.'"

  "You shouldn't have."

  "I ran into Castilla, Lim, and Pelori. Pelori locked Claire in front of a lobby full of witnesses. She didn't scream. Didn't panic. When I forced him to let go, she landed on her feet and asked if she should alert the authorities. No shaking in the voice. Nothing. She made us look strong and competent. She singlehandedly restored my standing in the community and she doesn't even realize it."

  "I know all that." Lienne waved her hand. "The story is making the rounds."

  Ven looked up and his eyes betrayed anger. "Then why in the world are you badgering me about serving her dinner? Should I have sent her home and then been notified that her mind developed a lesion and her brains leaked out of her ears?"

  Lienne leaned forward, resting her knuckles on his desk. "That's not what that dinner was and you know it. You cooked for her, Ven. You served her pink wine. You were up there for two hours. The only thing missing from this romantic rendezvous were the passion cones and only because the kitchen didn't have any."

  Ven leaned back in his chair and sighed.

  "There are things that aren't appropriate between the owner of a business and an employee."

  "Don't lecture me," he warned.

  "I will lecture you. Has it crossed your mind that she may feel obligated to accept your advances?"

  "What advances? Nothing happened."

  "She can't decline your invitations. In her mind, you're putting her into a position where she must accept your overtures or risk being sent back to a hellish planet where she might be put to death on arrival. You're putting her into a very difficult position."

  He waved his hand at her. "Nothing. Happened. It wasn't that kind of dinner."

  "Oh? What did you talk about?"

  "Nothing. She asked about Castilla and then I asked her about her childhood."

  "Venturo! Do you not see the writing on the wall? She is a talented girl, smart, efficient, and conscientious. If you keep pushing this, she may quit to escape. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find an admin who can actually tolerate you, Ven?"

  He stared at her, incredulous. "You didn't even want to hire her! I hired her."

  "However she came to work here, she is here now, she is doing exceptionally well, and I don't cherish the prospect of having to replace her."

  Venturo raised his hand. "Enough."

  "It's not fair to her, it's not -"

  "I said, enough!"

  The force of Ven's mind tore out. Lienne fell silent.

  They looked at each other.

  "Why are you wearing a biosuit at this hour?" she asked.

  He rubbed his face.

  Lienne checked her tablet. "The log says you've been logged into the bionet for the last thirty-five hours."

  "I've met a psycher," he said. "Young. Female. Grade A."

  "And?"

  "She was powerful."

  "How powerful?"

  Ven met her gaze. "She iced me."

  "Don't be ridiculous. Nobody has been able to ice you since you were sixteen years old..."

  He just looked at her.

  Lienne fell silent. "For how long?" she asked finally.

  "Six seconds."

  Lienne dropped into a chair.

  "Was she DDS?"

  He shook his head. "She iced me and took off. I traced her to a portable hub and the connection went dead."

  "You have to find her, Ven. If DDS gets a hold of a psycher who can ice you, Castilla will kill you."

  "Yes, who would you berate then?" He grimaced.

  "Don't be ridiculous," Lienne's tone was soft. "Find her."

  "I will."

  Lienne rose. "And Ven..."

  "What?"

  "About our previous conversation: there are ways to go about these things. Your mother knew this and so did your father."

  Venturo blinked.

  "It's a bit extreme, but who will tell you no?" Lienne shrugged and left the office.

  Claire kept her gaze firmly on her desk. Lienne's worries were misplaced. She could've told her that. The end of the conversation made no sense at all.

  Ven stepped out of the office. "Claire?"

  "Yes?" She forced a smile.

  "Clear my schedule for the rest of the week. Split my shift between Victorio, Rukah, and Daneb. I'm not available for anyone for anything unless it's an emergency."

  "I'll take care of it."

  He nodded, looked like he was going to say something else, and returned to his office instead.

  Claire sipped her tea. It was Friday, and she sat in a soft blue chair of the fourteenth floor recreation room. The room, shaped like a horseshoe, was positioned so the straight wall faced the diagrid. The wall was glass and sometimes Claire stood next to it, looking down the long sheer drop to the lobby. She liked to watch people, knowing that she was all but invisible.

  Today she just wanted solitude. She'd dimmed the glass wall to near darkness, shutting off the bright light of the afternoon streaming in through the solar panels of the diagrid until only the pale purple and blue mood lighting remained. Her head hummed. Being a replacement Venturo Escana was a tiring business.

  Claire took another sip of tea and checked the tab. Passion raspberry. Hmm. Delicious.

  It was thirty minutes past five. The building was mostly empty. The support personnel had gone home, eager to escape and start their weekend, with the exception of the psycher assistance unit. Both Rukah and Angelia were logged in, although Rukah was coming to the end of his shift and Angelia was just beginning hers.

  In the past week Claire had made more executive decisions than she cared to admit. Venturo spent every waking hour logged into the bionet. Attempting to reach him proved futile. He simply brushed her off. Lienne carried her own workload and the couple of times Claire consulted her, the older woman defaulted to "Ask Venturo."

  In the end she resolved most of the problems herself, under the banner of Ven's authority. If Lienne or he ever realized who had handled most of the arising problems, she would be fired on the spot for overstepping. Claire smiled to herself. Right now getting fired didn't seem overly tragic. Sure, she would have to find a new job, and her probation period had shrunk to a mere six weeks instead of twelve, but it might be worth it.

  It would be worth it to be free of Ven. To be free of the fantasy that would never come to pass. She was too proud to spend the entirety of her life as his silent shadow, while he imagined her beating off the prospective assassins with her tablet.

  Ven's mind approached.

  Claire sipped
her tea.

  He emerged from the shadowy hallway, the bionet suit adhering to him like a second skin. She ogled him quietly, looking through her eyelashes while pretending to drink from her cup.

  Ven dropped a stack of pseudo paper next to her and landed on the couch. "I found you."

  She almost panicked, but her shell was firmly in place and thick enough to withstand a probe. "I wasn't hiding."

  "Yes, you were. Lights are off, your desk is organized, as if you've left. If it wasn't for your bag, I wouldn't know you were in the building."

  "My desk is always organized."

  He looked exhausted. The laugh lines around his eyes seemed more pronounced. His cheeks were withdrawn. And yet he radiated a kind of magnetic sexual energy that made her watch him. Being in his presence was like having sex without ever approaching orgasm - she could watch and imagine, but he would never be hers and he would never want her the way she wanted him.

  He sprawled on the couch, resting his head on the padded arm rest, straightened his legs, and winced. Cramped. Clocking nearly eighty hours in the bionet in one week will do that to you. She'd done it before and it was unpleasant.

  Ven nodded at the pseudopaper. "I found these."

  Claire glanced at the sheets. The Quattrone Family quote.

  "I know Lienne didn't approve this. Nor did she compile the data for the quote."

  She didn't feel like lying. "How?"

  "Lienne has a best friend, Fotina Heleni. When they were both sixteen, Deo Quattrone stood her up. They were at a party together, and he saw his ex-girlfriend in the crowd with another kid and made a giant scene. It got ugly. Lienne despises him and the whole family. If her hate were a plasma converter, she could launch a thousand spaceships into orbit."

  Claire laughed. "Are you trying to hint that your aunt holds grudges?"

  "I'm not hinting. I am saying it. So who helped you with these?"

  She sighed. "Would it be so terrible if I had done them myself?"

  "The quote shows a detailed knowledge of the bionet," he said. "Who is the co-conspirator, Claire? I promise I won't punish anyone. In fact, I may give this person a raise and unload the rest of the quotes on them. Although that would be a punishment in itself, I suppose."