by Sara DeHaven
Scanlon was finally done with whatever he’d been working on, and invited Leander to sit across from him once again while he gave his update. He filled Scanlon in on his successes with starting a connection with the McClains, and with Bree, and also relayed the incident of Bree being attacked by the young Keltoi. Then he handed over the envelope with the three hairs from Hunter.
“And what about Thorvaldson?” Scanlon prompted when Leander finished. “What were your impressions of him?”
“Definitely very high power, maybe the most high power I’ve felt, though the read was complicated by Thorvaldson's alcohol use. It was at a party on St. Patrick’s Day, so there was a lot of drinking going on. I would have said he was a little demon burned, which was surprising. I know he’s supposed to be a Demon Master, but I would assume, like most Keepers and Exorcists, he'd at least try to resist possession and hold it together for another decade, at least.”
“That is interesting information. I did get a report from Ms. Gambrini that on at least one occasion, Thorvaldson sought a possession in order to defeat her in battle. That was several months ago. If the possession lasted long enough, he could still be showing the effects.”
“But I wouldn’t think that being demon burned would be caused so quickly," Leander challenged. He wanted to push back a little with Scanlon, because he didn’t have more success to report on getting in with Thorvaldson himself and wanted to keep attention off that fact.
“In general, it doesn’t. But some Demon Masters are more vulnerable than others to demon contact. Type of demon contact matters as well. The higher power a demon, the greater the risk for damage to the host. Which is why, as much as hosting higher level demons grants stronger powers, intelligent Demon Masters avoid it.”
Leander knew Scanlon was speaking of himself. One reason Demon Masters didn’t often ascend to the rank of Clan Chief was the near certainty that they would become addicted to demon contact and become unstable. Only the most disciplined and cautious Demon Masters made their talent work for them over the long haul, and even then, they all eventually succumbed to the impulse to allow possession and went bat shit crazy. Marton was also very cautious as a Demon Master.
“In any case,” Leander went on, “it seemed clear to me that Thorvaldson is not currently involved with Bree Jenkins. I believe there has been some kind of relationship, and there seems to be some tension between them. I’d also say Thorvaldson was difficult to approach. Very guarded. Given what I read in his dossier, I get why that would be. Which is why I chose to go the route of getting in with Jenkins instead. It was ultimately fortuitous she had that run in with that young group of Keltoi. The crisis created an opportunity to quickly further trust with her.”
“How quickly?” Scanlon asked him
“I don't have her full trust, but I wouldn't expect to at this stage. And Jenkins was too traumatized to want to be social. My relationship with her is new and fragile. Is there,” he hesitated, then proceeded delicately, “some new reason to try to hurry this process along?”
Scanlon’s expression turned a little sour at that. His hands fiddled with the cup of coffee in his hands, though the rest of his tells showed calm command. “I admit I wouldn’t have seen a need to interfere at this stage of things, but the bigger picture has apparently shifted, necessitating a need for greater speed.”
Just then, there was brief knock at the office door. “Come,” Scanlon instructed, and the through the door walked Marton Varga and Franchesca Gambrini. Leander's stomach clenched. This was a surprise, and he didn’t like surprises that he wasn’t delivering.
Scanlon rose to shake Marton’s hand. Marton was dressed in an unusually formal manner, in a charcoal grey suit, snowy white shirt, and a green tie calculated to set off the dark green of his eyes. His chin length, dark brown hair was brushed back, and subtly gelled into place. Even all dressed up, there was an air of street-wise predator about Marton that made any half aware person want to treat him with careful respect. Franchesca stood at his side, striking as usual, perhaps a shade taller than Marton’s five-eleven in her heels. Her name suited her, so much so, Leander cattily thought, she might have made it up. She looked Italian, with long, dark curly hair, dark eyes, and gorgeous bone structure. She also had lovely long legs that she liked to display in tasteful but short skirts. She had on a white one today, with a ruffle along the bottom and a green cashmere sweater set to compliment Marton’s tie.
It was a soft look for a hard woman. Leander knew her for a Demon Master, and a high power, battle tested Caster, as well as a high power Reader of energy and tells. She was also far enough along in being demon burned that Leander wondered why Marton was involved with her, other than what was probably the wicked sex. Politically, she was Marton’s line to the New York Keltoi she was originally a part of, though she seemed to have been adopted into Marton’s L.A. Keltoi clan.
She had an arm possessively hooked onto Marton, her posture canted towards him. Marton, for his part, seemed entirely focused on Scanlon.
“Good morning, Howard, I hope I find you well,” he was saying, the use of Scanlon’s first name an obvious mark of his setting himself up as Scanlon’s equal. He was, in Keltoi terms, both Scanlon’s superior and inferior. He controlled a bigger territory by far, and was more higher power overall, but being so much Scanlon’s junior in years and experience went against him in the way Keltoi hierarchy was counted. The meeting of two such men was rife with subtle plays for status and advantage.
“Well enough,” Scanlon replied genially. Leander watched the men’s joined hands with interest as the male dominance handshake played itself out. In Leander’s view, Marton won that one. Scanlon gestured to the couch where he had been sitting and invited Marton and Franchesca to take a seat. He offered coffee from an urn sitting on a silver tray, which both agreed to.
Leander was amused to see Franchesca playing the quiet, demure companion. He’d seen her screaming outbursts with Marton and with some of Marton’s flunkies. She apparently still had it enough together to come across relatively sane when she had to. He knew Marton had forbidden her demon contact in an attempt to slow down and maybe reverse some of the negative Demon Master effects, so maybe that had helped.
“Your man here was just filling me in on his assignment. As you’d told me, he works fast, and has already made good infiltration into Thorvaldson’s group.”
Marton finally acknowledged Leander with a smile. “He’s good all right, the best.” In spite of himself, Leander was warmed by that smile. He tried not to let that piss him off.
“And I do hate to get in the middle of your action on that, but things are progressing with the war faster than anticipated. That has moved up some time lines.”
“Things are coming along slower here than they are in L.A.,” Scanlon warned. He was reclining in apparent comfort in the chair next to Leander’s facing Marton and Franchesca. There was something just a little put on about his apparent relaxation. He’d know that Marton and Franchesca could read that, but he didn’t have a choice but to try and look unworried and in control. “We’ve had some incidences of social unrest, but nothing compared to the level that’s been achieved elsewhere. We don’t have the number of Demon Masters your larger clans have, so we can only call so many demons with any safety to the Demon Masters themselves. And I would have to say the population here is more stable in general.”
“Which is part of why I’m here,” Marton told him. He crossed his legs casually as he spoke. “I’d like to do what I can to help the process along. We're timing all this to come to full fruition by the end of May. By that time, we hope to have a broader support for the candidates we've formed alliances with. Which is where Thorvaldson comes in. Franchesca assures me he has a reliable spell to completely hide Demon Master and Binder talents. While our goals may ultimately be reached by the strategy we have in place now, if we were able to position Binders in government without the knowledge or interference of Keepers, we would essentially be able t
o write our own ticket in terms of support for our business interests.”
The audacity of the plan pleased Leander. That path had been tried before, many times, over the centuries. But always, some light power cabal would uncover and take down the Binder because it wasn’t possible to hide one’s powers. But if a Binder was able to hide his or her power, and be in regular contact with figures high in government, the Keepers wouldn’t know about it. They were, as a rule, very reluctant to interfere in the normal world. Even in dealing with the Keltoi, they seldom used assassination, though that strategy that would gain them a great deal of ground in certain situations. They usually kept to the idea that they were better than the Keltoi, and wouldn’t stoop to the same tactics for fear of becoming like the people they were battling.
Hence the uneasy balance of power. What Keepers lacked in ruthlessness, they tended to make up for in superior training and power. Leander had observed that their great strength was in their adherence to their often apparently self-crippling morals and duty. They could seldom be bought. And being bought was the weakness of the Keltoi. Clan loyalty existed, but the Keltoi, were, at bottom, a business organization, in it for the profit. Clans were not that stable, and there was a lot of moving about from one Clan to another, in search of greater position and gains. Keltoi like Marton tried to make up for that by enforcing a strict hierarchy, with sometimes deadly punishments for failure.
“I presume you have people working on coming up with our own version of the spell,” Scanlon said with a faint tone of condescension. Score one for Scanlon, Leander thought. He’s letting Marton know Marton is showing weakness by not being able to do it himself.
“Obviously, it's an extremely difficult spell to develop, or it would have been discovered and used long ago. My cousin shows unusual gifts in the area of casting. Daniel is well known as being unmatched among Keepers as a Caster.”
And thus Leander got his second surprise of the day. Thorvaldson was Marton’s cousin? He scanned Marton’s face, looking for any similarity. There was just a bit in those strong, Slavic cheekbones, the long eyes. Leander would guess they were related on Marton’s Hungarian mother’s side. Why hadn’t Marton told him about this? It was clearly pertinent to his current assignment. And why was he letting Leander in on it now?
“As you are unmatched among Keltoi,” Franchesca said with an admiring smile at Marton. She managed to make it sound like a kind of giddy, infatuated comment rather than the veiled insult of Scanlon it was intended to be. Franchesca sent a sidelong look at Scanlon to read his response.
“The faster route may still be to get the spell directly from Thorvaldson, which is why Rayne’s assignment still has merit,” Scanlon replied smoothly. “If Jenkins was close enough to Thorvaldson to be entrusted with details of the spell, we may be relatively close to retrieving that information given the inroads Rayne has made with her.”
“So you weren’t able to charm Daniel?” Marton asked Leander directly.
“He’s got that paranoid ex-Keeper thing going. I judged it far easier to take in the woman. She seems relatively unsophisticated about dark power and about Keltoi in general. She’s not entirely trusting by any means, but I can reach her.”
“Do you think you’ll be able to lure her away from Daniel? The two seemed quite wound up in each other when I saw them together last autumn,” Franchesca said. She tried and failed to conceal her avid interest in his response. Leander would have liked to play with her a little on her obvious jealousy, get her to show off her psycho side, but he knew Marton wouldn’t like that, so instead, he answered truthfully. “They’re not a couple, if that’s what you’re asking. They seem to be friends, and I don’t anticipate it will be difficult to get her to form a romantic attachment to me.”
“You like her, don’t you?” Marton commented with a penetrating look at Leander. Damn the man and his uncanny intuition.
“Yeah, I like her well enough. She’s pretty in a Northwest hippie girl kind of way, and she’s bright. You know it helps if I actually find something to like in the person I’m trying to get an in with.” The fact that he’d felt a certain tender protectiveness towards Bree, well, that argued for more than just a vague liking, and it wasn’t something he wanted Marton to key in on because it might make Marton think he would be compromised on the assignment. He didn’t dare read Marton to check whether he was picking up those feelings, because Marton didn’t like Leander to read him. Franchesca, on the other hand, was openly unhappy with his positive description of Bree. Really, she ought to try a little harder to hide her emotions in a room full of Readers.
Marton shrugged. “As you say, it makes things easier. Just be aware that someone that naïve may, in some ways, be harder for you to con. One tends to feel sorry for such people, and it can get in the way.”
“You know me, I never let anything get in the way of collecting my fee,” Leander answered breezily.
“Yes, little savage, I know,” Marton replied with some genuine fondness. “I do realize that getting the information could be a delicate business. It may in the end take a more thorough acceptance into the entire group around Thorvaldson and Jenkins.”
“That’s how I figure it as well,” Leander assured him.
“In any case,” Marton continued, addressing Scanlon again, “with your agreement, I’d like to loan you five of my own people with Demon Master talent to help with the local effort.”
It was an interesting offer, and one equally risky for Scanlon to take as to refuse. Marton had successfully taken over all the southern California Keltoi clans, and had heavy duty influence with those in the North. He was known for infiltrating other clans and taking them down from the inside. Scanlon couldn’t afford to be seen as less effective in the general effort than other Clan leaders. This working together of Keltoi clans was a risky business, which is why it was so seldom attempted. It had taken a man of Marton’s vision and will to make it happen at all.
Scanlon, as Leander had predicted he would, agreed with only a short hesitation. Terms were negotiated, a process Leander was hardly needed for. He saw that Franchesca was getting impatient with having to be present for it as well. He’d gotten the impression before, in L.A., when talk of Thorvaldson had come up a couple of times, that she had some kind of crazy thing for the guy. Some vendetta or unresolved romantic business. The way she kept sending Leander speculative little glances was, he thought, more a reflection of her wanting to get him alone and pump him for information than it was an interest in him. She finally leaned forward a little and tried to engage Leander in a low voiced conversation. “So how did you find Daniel?” she asked him.
“A little drunk, a little jealous, a little demon burned,” he responded more provocatively than he should have. Franchesca was openly trying to read him as he spoke.
“You didn’t care for him?” she asked even more softly.
Leander shrugged. “I might have if he had cared at all for me. I will say I verge on finding him… intimidating.”
“He is very high powered, more than you know, more than anyone knows.” She looked positively hungry as she spoke, and Leander thought her an idiot for saying so where Marton could hear her. His assessment was borne out when he saw Marton reach over and lace his fingers with Franchesca’s, then squeeze tight enough to make her wince. Being crazy Franchesca, though, she didn’t stop there. “He hesitates to use his Binder abilities, but he will do it in protection of another, and I’ve never seen a stronger Binder.”
Gods, was the woman completely insane, rubbing Marton’s nose in the fact that her ex had a major talent he lacked? Marton wasn’t the type to take kindly to that kind of comparison. It wasn’t that he had a weak ego. He didn’t easily feel threatened. But he wouldn’t want that less than flattering comparison brought up in front of Scanlon. He saw Marton’s hand tighten further, and it seemed Franchesca finally got the message, because she shut up.
The two Clan Chiefs finished their business, and Marton and Franchesca
took their leave, assuring Scanlon they’d be staying in Seattle for the next couple of weeks to oversee the liaison between the L.A. Demon Masters and Scanlon’s Keltoi. Leander was dismissed by Scanlon moments later with a promise to check in with him personally at the end of the week. He found Marton and Franchesca still in the hallway outside when he left. Marton had Franchesca’s arm in a bruising grip, and his face was inches from hers as he angrily whispered what was likely a harsh reprimand for her behavior in front of Scanlon. Leander quietly stepped around them and continued on his way, trying for invisibility. He didn’t want to attract Marton’s attention when he was in that mood.
He sighed in relief when he made it safely to his car without being followed, and drove out of the driveway faster than was seemly in that posh neighborhood, wanting to get distance between himself and his apparently very angry Clan Chief.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It was dawn before Bree awoke to a stiff neck, and a very sore shoulder and hip. Sleeping on a wood floor was not conducive to comfort. Sometime during the night she and Daniel had shifted until she was snuggled up against his side, one leg thrown over his where he lay on his back, her head on his shoulder and one arm across his stomach. Very carefully, not wanting to wake him yet, she moved back a bit so she could look at him. He appeared entirely peaceful in the dim morning light, lips very slightly parted, lashes dark against his cheeks. She let herself relax against him again. She was relieved she could move, and had the sense she was rested enough that she’d be able to get up, but she didn’t want to. Her newly awakened mind offered the opinion that the man she was so enjoying cuddling up against had, mere hours ago, scared the living hell out of her. Somehow, she couldn’t muster up any anxiety. All she could seem to focus on was the novelty of waking up next to him. She liked the feel of his stomach muscles under her hand, the long, firm length of his leg against hers, the warmth of his arm around her. He felt so entirely different than her husband Seth had, harder, with more sharp angles. It was a strange sensation to lie with another man besides Seth, but a very intriguing one as well. It was easy to imagine a life that included waking up next to Daniel when he was quiet like this, easy to let herself imagine this was a normal relationship. She didn’t want to give that feeling up. And besides, he wasn’t going to do anything bad to her while he was asleep. So she let herself drift in and out of a drowsy half-sleep without doing anything more than enjoy the moment.