Dragon grunted. “You know it isn’t acceptable that Laonte dies.”
“We can’t ask him the Academy’s secret address then.” Gabriel bent his knee and draped his arm on the back of the chaise. “There’s one good thing about this, though.”
“And what would that be?” Dragon’s chest inflated with barely-contained rage.
“The Academy has consented to cease all activities against you until you talk to them.”
“And what about Jade? Does she get a reprieve, too?”
Gabriel looked at him with sympathetic eyes. “They didn’t say anything about her.”
The man’s composure and understanding infuriated Dragon, even though he was the one who usually used caution, and now he was acting deranged. Of course, he knew that Laonte couldn’t reveal the location without losing his life in the process. Gabriel’s network of spies was renowned in the Fifth Moon System because they were efficient, fast, with an impeccable work ethic, and reached where others couldn’t. Men like Laonte were hired to mediate between organizations that didn’t want to be tracked. Without Gabriel’s help, Dragon would have never gained access to the Academy because nobody knew where the citadel was. Some thought that it wasn’t on Celestia at all.
Greatly displeased by the turn of events, Dragon excused himself and started walking back when he heard shouts coming from inside the main house.
Valentine shot past him, and a moment later, Mirella burst out of the porch, holding Valemir tight to her chest, screaming at the top of her lungs, “Fire!”
17
Two days on the job, and Jade had discovered that she liked driving the harem’s limo—one of the more refined tank-like vehicles that were the norm on Belarus—and that she hated rich people.
Escorting her last client for the day, she made an effort not to cave in the woman’s face.
“I’ll pay you four times your monthly salary.” The tall brunette had doubled her already outrageous previous offer.
Jade’s answer was the same as she relaxed her fist. “Thank you, madame, but I am not interested.” She merged right and finally came in sight of the brothel’s sign. Slowing to a stop, she parked in front of the entrance that opened when she pressed a button on her dashboard.
Lady Lisandra was on the other side of the door, welcoming the brunette with a ready smile. “Madame Mayor,” she said, directing the woman further into the hallway to hide the high-profile patron from prying eyes as fast as possible.
Jade drove the limo around the corner, entering the lateral alley Lisandra reserved as a parking spot for the harem’s vehicles. Oberin’s Fine Jewelry owned a staggering thirty-something cars between the Terran models and several gondolas. Among the parked flyers, there was also a small air jet. Behind the building, a private landing strip was reserved for clients who traveled by air.
When the extravagant opulence of the brothel became clear to Jade, she wondered how the harem could be so profitable and asked Lady Lisandra if she employed children. It didn’t matter how desperate she was, Jade would never work for an establishment that traded in minors. In fact, if the answer was positive, she wouldn’t leave until she had freed the children and razed the place to the ground. Fortunately, Lady Lisandra had shown her that the youngest courtesan employed by Oberin’s Fine Jewelry was well in his twenties.
As soon as Jade exited the limo, the servants’ door opened, and the formidable owner of the harem beckoned her to hurry inside.
“Madame Mayor is offering you one year of your salary for an hour of your time,” Lady Lisandra said. Her face remained neutral.
Jade was impressed by the woman’s acting skills. The harem’s cut was thirty percent, and applied to the sum proposed by Belarus’ mayor, it would make Lady Lisandra considerably richer in a very short amount of time.
“I am flattered, but I’ll have to decline.” Jade hated that for some people “no” meant a challenge they couldn’t resist. Men and women with the kind of wealth the mayor was flaunting were despicable. They thought everything was for sale.
“I’ll let her know your decision.” Lady Lisandra smiled before turning on her heels. Her steps soft, she glided toward the other end of the hallway.
Jade made a beeline for the courtesans’ quarters in the opposite direction from the clients’ wing. The building was the ingenious invention of Lady Lisandra. The savvy entrepreneur bought the narrow strip of land first and moved a dozen cargo containers onto it a few years later. Two stories high, the brothel sported soaring ceilings in the front where the business took place and spacious rooms to entertain the clients. The living quarters were smaller, but the most luxurious accommodation Jade had ever experienced.
“Hi, Jewel,” Meera, one of the courtesans, greeted Jade as she stepped into the foyer and the girl exited it.
“Hi, Meera.” Jade stopped at the entrance. “How was your day?”
“A bit slow, but I can’t complain. I have a client in a few minutes.” Meera was one of the older girls, but still beautiful with flawless skin and generous curves thanks to Oberin’s Fine Jewelry’s excellent boarding.
Lady Lisandra didn’t starve her employees. The harem’s cook created delicacies for the patrons and provided five abundant meals a day for the workers, and anyone could help themselves from the communal kitchen in between lunch and dinner. The food was fresh, not the fake meat and vegetables Jade had spent a fortune on, but hydroponic produce cultivated in the house. One of the cargo containers in the back was used as an indoor orchard. That was a definite plus Jade took advantage of. She wasn’t used to eating that much, though, and often felt sick.
“Are you up for a game of Twist later tonight?” Meera asked.
The question took Jade by surprise. Within hours of starting her escort gig, she had realized that the harem was a true home for the women and men working as courtesans for Lady Lisandra. The camaraderie Jade had experienced at the Academy never reached the easy banter she had seen at the brothel. Assassins never truly ceased to train, and an undercurrent of fear and mistrust always accompanied their interactions. Friends could turn into enemies in the blink of an eye.
“If I’m still awake when you start, I’ll join you.” Planet-jet lag still plagued Jade, and she felt both weak and tired. It would take a week or two for her body to adjust to the different gravity and night-and-day cycle of Belarus.
“Try and stay awake,” Meera said. “You look like someone who can count cards, and I need someone like that as a partner.” She laughed a rich chuckle, and Jade couldn’t help but smile back.
“You are one of the best paid girls. What do you need the money for?” Jade asked.
“For when I’m old. I want to open my own harem on one of the Rim planets,” the girl answered, cocking her generous hip enticingly. “My client is arriving. See you later.”
Jade moved to let the girl through before resuming her stroll toward the far end of the living quarters where her room was located. As she walked further into the hallway, the humidity in the air rose. Her bedroom was next to the hydroponic gardens, and the temperatures in that wing were always hotter than in the rest of the harem. She didn’t complain though.
Her door, like the rest of the doors on that floor, didn’t have a lock. At first, the idea of sleeping in a room that was easy to break into had left Jade uneasy, but nobody seemed to share her worries about the situation, and she had resigned to leaving the entrance to her bedroom unprotected.
As was her custom since her first days at the Academy, she toed off her boots as soon as she entered her room. She followed the same pattern everywhere she went. Having an established routine made her feel she was in charge, even when she dealt with unknown environments. Jade needed to be in control. So, first her shoes went soaring in the air, then her leather, sleeveless jacket, and next her leather pants.
Naked, she tiptoed to the en suite bathroom—a luxury she relished. At the Academy, even assassins shared washrooms with everyone else. The shower stall was only large
enough for one, but it was plenty of space to her. Hot steam washed the grime from her skin as she stretched under the jet.
A few minutes later, she stood before the oval mirror over the water basin. Her hair was longer. During her voyage, past-Jade must have not bothered with shaving her head.
She passed her fingers through the growing tresses—it was a rich shade of walnut. When was the last time she had worn her hair long? She might have been, what, nine? Ten? Not older than eleven. She remembered her mother braiding her long locks. The memory was painful.
Her hand hovered over the razor on the shelf under the mirror. Her hair would soon stick every which way. She could shave it now and save herself the task later. But her fingers didn’t move. Instead, they reached for her head again, playing with the soft hair. She liked the feeling.
A pang of hunger reminded her she hadn’t eaten since her midday meal. Hastily, she reapplied concealer makeup on her face to keep her marks safely hidden before putting on one of the garments Lady Lisandra had gifted her. When Jade had moved into the harem, the woman asked her where she had left her baggage. At Jade’s answer that she didn’t have anything else with her, Lisandra studied her for a moment before summoning a week’s worth of clothing.
“Jewel.” Gerard, one of the male courtesans, waved at her from a table in the kitchen. “Join us.” He was eating with two other courtesans, a man and a woman, neither of whom Jade had met.
Jade greeted him back. “Let me grab something first.” She chose a few cuts from the cold meat tray before filling her plate with sliced bread and fruit.
Gerard hooked his boot to the leg of an empty chair and moved it from under the table for Jade.
“Thank you,” she said as she sat.
Introductions were made. Karen and Paul waved at her as they incorporated Jade in their conversation about elections on Belarus. She had no opinion to share regarding Outer Belts politics, but listened, pleased to be part of something for once.
Not alone.
What an extraordinary concept. The thought awakened a foreign sensation in the center of her chest, an emotion that started sweet but became full of sadness a moment later. Was it regret? For what? What had past-Jade done?
Jade pressed her palm against her heart, but the feeling remained, like the ghost of a memory that wouldn’t go away.
“Are you okay?” Gerard asked, eyeing her worriedly.
“Still space-lagged.” She shrugged the melancholy away and dug into her food. As she brought the forkful of meat to her mouth, the aroma of exotic spices tickled her nostrils, upsetting her stomach. She gagged and released the fork that clanked against the edge of her plate.
“That doesn’t sound like space-lag to me,” Karen said. “Right now, you look exactly like one of the girls who used to work here.”
Looking at Jade, Paul nodded. “I remember Yarina making the same face you just did every time she so much as walked into the kitchen—”
“Was it a bad bug?” Jade asked.
Every planet came with its own brand of diseases, and although her nanites would take care of most of the ailments, there were always those nasty little bugs that cropped anew here and there. She wasn’t worried because her body would eventually get rid of them, but in the meantime, the growing nausea and stomach cramps weren’t pleasant.
“More of a parasite, but the kid isn’t all bad,” Gerard said, laughing.
“Little Yarin is adorable,” Karen said.
Jade scrunched her brow in confusion. Another wave of nausea rocked her.
“Yep, exactly like that.” Smiling, Karen pointed her finger at Jade.
Jade didn’t understand how they could think that her situation was amusing. “What did this Yarina have?” They said the girl used to work at the harem. Was she dead? It would be just her rotten luck to escape from whatever past-Jade had put her through only to die from some strange planetary illness. Chills ran down her spine. “Was it something severe?”
Three sets of astonished stares bore into her.
After an awkward silence in which the three exchanged glances, Karen finally answered.
“Yes. Yarina had a severe case of the pregnancy,” she said, making exaggerated finger quotes, “Nine long months of it, but she survived just fine.”
18
Dragon ran as fast as he could, his feet flying on the wooden boards of the walkway, thinking, How did they find us so fast?
Gabriel was already issuing orders to the crew assembling on the porch as people poured outside, looking for safety.
In front of them, a thick plume of white smoke rose over the tiled roof, and the stench of doused flames filled the air, but it wasn’t the only fire. Two different spots burned, and nobody seemed to be working on soaking the structure. A blackened portion of the roof collapsed.
The house was being attacked on several fronts, and the screams and anguished cries coming from inside chilled Dragon’s heart.
Valentine had swept Mirella and Valemir into his arms. The little boy was crying, and his father soothed him with shushed words as he caressed his back.
“Take them to my studio,” Gabriel said to Valentine, shouting over the cacophony. “Stay with them.”
“We won’t let anyone cross the bridge,” Dragon assured Valentine.
The werewolf nodded and sprinted in the opposite direction, taking his family to safety.
A boisterous crack followed by a loud thud stopped everyone for a moment. The sounds came from around the section of the porch hidden from sight—the same side where the princesses’ quarters were located.
Dragon bolted, heading toward the guest wing, but veered when Valerian appeared among the throng of swaying people that exited from one of the lateral communal rooms. His lieutenant’s eyes searched ahead, and his expression slightly relaxed when he saw Dragon.
“Where are Lauren and Gilda?” Dragon asked when he reached his friend.
Gilda stepped out from behind Valerian’s shadow, looking pale. “I can’t find Lauren,” she said, her eyes wide and filled with unshed tears. Usually composed, she now looked a faint echo of the woman Dragon had come to know. Her hands worried the hem of her shirtsleeves as she stared ahead, slightly shaking her head. “We were arguing, and she stormed out of the room, and then I heard the explosions, and people started screaming, and the flames… I went looking for her, but I couldn’t find Lauren anywhere—”
“The princess wasn’t in her quarters,” Valerian confirmed.
A second loud explosion silenced everyone. Dragon looked over the roof where the flames had engulfed more of the structure.
A hastily put-together crew commanded by Gabriel pumped water from the sea through a series of clockwork hydrants that churned out highly pressurized water and fish. The sight looked straight out of one of those Terran legends of old, and soon the smell of broiled, fresh catch mingled with the other scents.
Gabriel raised his hand to draw Dragon and Valerian’s attention. “I need to check on the rest of the house,” he said as he stepped away from the pump, taking with him a few of his guards.
“Go.” Dragon replaced the vampire at the head of the water squad as Valerian went to man a second clockwork pump.
Large fish swam closer to the house, and the hydrants’ sieves creaked and slowed under the strain as they tried to keep the bigger catches at bay.
One by one, all able men and women approached Dragon, offering help. He directed the strong arms to the pumps, and everyone else to form as many bucket lines as they could manage. After an intense hour, the front of the manor was safe, and they moved inside, slowly chasing away the flames, one room at a time, as more people joined the effort.
Half of the day passed before Dragon reached the other end of the manor and met Gabriel and his men in the atrium. The once-elegant room with its white walls and polished marbles was a gutted version of its former self. The vaulted ceiling had collapsed, smashing the furniture that the fire hadn’t already burned.
Covered in ash, the vampire raised his eyes toward Dragon and shook his head. “Rubble,” he said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. Black soot spread from his hand to his face. “People barely escaped with their lives. The medical bay is filled to capacity. More than half of my house destroyed. All in the name of racism.” He reached inside his vest and pulled out a piece of parchment he extended so Dragon could read the message written on it. “I found it pinned on my bedroom door.”
You should’ve remained on Earth and died a long time ago.
We’ll cleanse the Fifth Moon System of you, worthless scum.
It’s time humanity rules again.
T F P H
Dragon read the neatly printed words, and bile rose in his throat. “The Front Pro Humanity—”
“They don’t care who dies.” Gabriel leaned against one of the few intact columns. “Besides myself and my guards, the rest of my household is human. It’s nothing short of a damned miracle that there were no fatalities today.” Sliding down the column, he pointed toward the hallway that connected the atrium to the internal gardens. Black stumps stood in place of the verdant plants. “Look at this devastation. And for what?”
“We can’t find Lauren,” Dragon said. He had looked for the princess as the fire squad opened a path through the house. Every time they cleared a new portion, Dragon rejoiced that they didn’t find bodies, but soon after, dread engulfed him because there was no trace of Lauren anywhere.
“I saw Valerian with Gilda.” Gabriel stood at once. “Wasn’t she with Gilda?”
“No. They had an argument and separated.” Dragon passed a hand through his hair, sending gray dust all over his shoulders. “She might have jumped into the water to escape from the fire.”
Gabriel motioned for one of his aids to come closer. “Organize a search team,” he said to the man, who nodded and left. “We’ll find her,” he reassured Dragon.
The Fifth Moon's Assassin (The Fifth Moon's Tales Book 5) Page 8