With the fragile peace still too new between humans and the NHs who’d all survived the wars, the Assembly had stepped in and put a stop to it.
The only ones who could authorize assassinations—legally—were Regents and those who sat on the Elite Council.
That didn’t mean they didn’t happen.
I knew that. I’d accepted a couple of contracts myself. But they were always off the record and if the Assembly discovered it, it could mean my neck. Literally.
The list of sealed jobs under Anne Diamond’s name had my instincts singing.
Picking up my phone, I brought up the browser and did a news search, checking dates and comparing them to the sealed jobs listed under her name.
There were one or two that coincided with deaths that had been picked up here locally.
Nothing else.
I broadened the search.
A witch in rural Texas who had been questioned about some missing shapeshifter kids. She was found in her tub, dead. The report filed with the local Assembly office—death by drowning. One odd thing had been noted—there was salt water in her lungs. Not bath water.
A psychic who had been scamming families in central Oklahoma. He’d also been found dead—ruled as suspicious because he’d drowned. In his car.
A couple in Indiana that had been found dead in their home, each one of them trapped in a cage in the basement. There had been other cages, too. Those cages had been stained with excrement and blood and it was determined that children had likely been in those cages—non-human children.
The couple?
Death by drowning. But their bodies were dry.
There would be others, I suspected.
“Why did you leave?” I asked, clicking back to her profile. “And just how are you drowning people?”
There was an update at the bottom, a forwarding address.
She had checked in with the Assembly when she decided to pack up shop, it seemed. A good little assassin. She was now living in Buffalo, New York. Pretty damn far from Orlando.
She’d made the move three weeks ago. Pensively, I studied the picture of Samantha Anne Diamond—such a normal sounding name for one of the Assembly’s approved killers.
Oh, sure. It didn’t say on the profile—Assembly certified killer, see rate card. But if you did what I did long enough, you knew what to look for.
Making a split decision, I pulled out my phone. It had a few upgrades on it, courtesy of Chang. Before I dialed the number, I punched in a code. According to him, it would scramble any devices that might be listening in and do the same for any video feed.
That done, I punched in the number that had been left for Ms. Diamond.
“There’s nobody here by that name,” I was told immediately.
“Wait.”
There was no response, but the line didn’t go dead. The voice had been female, too.
“I need to speak with her,” I said. “It’s regarding her decision to leave Orlando.”
“Like I said, nobody here by that name.”
But she didn’t hang up.
“Maybe I’ve got her name wrong,” I offered.
A slow, careful exhalation came across the line.
“Maybe you should give me yours.” She paused, then with a deliberate emphasis, she added, “And please, feel free to lie. It will shorten this conversation.”
“My name is Kit Colbana.”
Her response was a grunt. “Fuck, kid. Why is the Alpha’s pet calling me?”
Don’t react…Tightening my hand into a fist, I stared at the bank of computers in front of me. “I’m pretty sure if Damon wanted a pet, he’d find something a bit more cuddly than me.”
Her low, raspy chuckle surprised me. “Maybe he would. Maybe he would. Why are you bothering me?”
“I’m curious as to why you left.”
Immediately the conversation took on a different vibe.
“It was the smart thing to do. Be smart. Do the same.”
Without another word, she hung up.
⸸
I’d lost track of how long I’d been sitting there behind the glowing screen of the slim monitor, trying to track down where all these offshoots had gone—and how many there were.
There were more than the fifty or so Damon had mentioned.
And it was more than just offshoots.
Almost a dozen witches who hadn’t allied with any of the houses had left Florida over the past year.
Several psychics.
Some had filed the move with the Assembly as required, but others weren’t reported until their profiles had been flagged for non-payment.
We don’t use the banking systems quite the humans do, automated this and that. Blame it on the fact that humans control the banks and if our money goes bye-bye, we expect no help from the authorities. Most of us either rely on cold hard cash or use off-shore accounts.
That tends to mean most of us still make payments like the yearly Assembly fee in person or through an online exchange when the time comes.
Quite of few of the people I’d pulled up had gone red, their profiles flagged for non-payment, then flagged again, for being off the map when somebody attempted to contact them.
They wouldn’t invest a lot of money or time in it. NHs moved around all the time. Sooner or later, they’d show up in another district and the local HQ would take over from there.
But this pattern wasn’t normal.
I’d gone back the past few years to compare data so I knew that for a fact.
“Where are all of you going?” I asked myself.
I’d tried calling a few of them, but those I was able to reach refused to say. Some were cryptic, some were point blank Because I’m not an idiot, but nobody said anything more than, I sure as hell wasn’t staying.
The ringing of my phone caught me off-guard and my neck screamed at me as I straightened in the chair, reaching for the phone.
I didn’t recognize the name or the number, but that didn’t mean much.
“May I speak to Kit Colbana, please.”
It sounded like a question.
It wasn’t. It was, plain and simple, a politely phrased demand.
“Speaking.” Rubbing at my neck, I arched my back and stretched out as much as I could in the chair.
“My sire would like to speak with you.”
“Who is your sire?” Sire—just that word and my blood went cold. Only one faction used that term. And I didn’t much like vampires.
“Amund.” The answer was delivered in a hushed tone, as though the woman on the other end of the line held him in such reverence, she feared to speak his name. “And as a token of his appreciation for your time, he has a gift that he will bestow on you upon your arrival.”
“A gift, huh?” I shot a look at the clock hanging over the door.
“Yes. A gift. I believe you’d…enjoy the nature of it.”
“I bet.” Making up my mind, I backed out of the data files and cleared my search, taking every step I could think of to hide what I’d been doing.
As I went to gather my things, I froze.
Somebody was standing on the other side of the door, watching.
Malcolm.
I froze.
The door opened and without thinking, I spoke. “Please tell your sire I’d be more than happy to oblige him. Will now work?”
A smile flirted with Malcolm’s lips as I pretended to shut him out.
“Now would be best.” There was an odd lilt to her voice. “Are you well, Ms. Colbana? Your voice has changed somewhat in the past few seconds.”
“I’m fine.” Wrestling the nerves I felt under control, I gave the clock a deliberate look. “I’m at Assembly HQ, wrapping something up. I estimate it will take me thirty minutes to get there. Will that do?”
“Of course.” Again, a question in her polite words. “I’ll have our people watch the way for you.”
That was unexpected.
But I wasn’t going to argue.
Without saying anything else, I disconnected and shoved the phone into my hip pocket. Everything else was already in my messenger bag.
“Who is watching the way for you, Miss Colbana?” Malcolm asked as I walked by him.
“A client.” I kept walking.
“You never did respond to the offer I made you.”
With my hand on the door, I looked back at him. “Yes, I did. I told you at my office I wasn’t working for you.”
“I made another offer. Didn’t you receive it?” Shrewd eyes studied me.
I felt like he was cutting right into me and peeling me open. Pressure mounted against the shields I’d jerked up the moment I saw him until physical pain began to hammer inside my head from the stress of it.
I ignored it and gave him a blank look. “Receive…oh. Are you the one who sent the anonymous package? Yeah. About that. I’ve had problems before when I open packages laced with questionable magic. It’s being…held by a friend. Do you want it back?”
“It’s considered rude not to at least consider a job offer, Kit. You are a licensed contractor.”
“Perhaps you should have made it clear it was a job,” I suggested with a shrug. “And not laced it with some sort of compulsory magic.”
I jerked the door open and slid just as the press of his magic grew almost too much.
He called out after me.
I kept walking.
Chapter Eleven
It took more than thirty minutes, but I’d known it would.
I doubted Malcolm would attempt to follow me through any normal means.
One thing that was true about fae—they really did have issues with iron. The steel that made up engines would make that mode of transportation unpleasant, to say the least. Even witches had some issues. Justin wasn’t one of them—he’d never understood why, but as his metallurgy developed, it probably made more sense. It did to me.
I wouldn’t have to worry about him speeding after me in a car, although the image was almost amusing. Something a little…undignified.
I turned onto the road that led to Amund’s estate almost twenty minutes after I’d told her I’d be there and the tail I’d picked up, along with the two wolves who’d been following me, stayed close at my heels.
It was going to be fun convincing the wolves they’d be staying outside for this.
Parking outside the elaborate art that served as a gate, I climbed out and turned to the other car as it came to a stop behind mine.
The wolves sat there, waiting.
I gestured, hoping they’d get out and we could…chat…before the vampires showed up.
On cue, the vampire escort I picked up drove slowly on past, not even acknowledging us as it turned down a narrow lane that looked more suited to a farm wagon than the sleek European sports car. It was so quiet, I barely heard the hum of the engine. The toys money could buy.
Once it was out of sight, I looked at the two wolves.
Jay and Alli must be off.
I recognized one of them—we'd worked together on the job with the psycho wolf, Babs. The girl’s name was Elizabeth Ash, one of Dair’s enforcers. Looking at her, one wouldn’t think so. She was the same height I was, and more slender, almost delicate. Under the silk shirt and pressed slacks was a lithe, muscled body but you had to really look to see.
I bet it was one of hell of an advantage in a fight.
I didn’t recognize the other wolf with her, but as he fell into step behind her, I decided that was a plus.
I knew Elizabeth well enough after so many trips to the Den for assignments. She was almost rational, as far as certain things went.
“Where are the other two?”
Elizabeth smiled. “Off. You get me today.”
“I’m here for a meeting. Amund requested it.” I opened the trunk and pulled my blade out, sliding her into place at my hip. “For the record…you’re not coming in.”
The man stiffened.
Elizabeth studied me, lips pursed.
“What sort of meeting?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. Behind me, I heard rustling. My neck was also crawling. Time was up—the vamp escorts from the house had arrived. “But I was invited. I’m safe while here on an invitation from the head of the house.”
“We’re required to shadow you. It’s our orders.”
Shifting my attention to the man, I said, “Your orders. Not mine. You’re not coming in. If you want to take that up with the vampires…well, have fun explaining that melee to your alpha.”
“Listen, Colbana…” He growled.
Elizabeth lifted a hand.
He fell silent, going still.
“I’ll notify the Alpha of the matter, Kit. I’m sure he’ll understand.” A smile flirted with her lips and humor sparked in her blue eyes. “He decided to put me on this job because we knew each other—I think he believed that might…facilitate cooperation between us.”
“I’m not feeling very cooperative,” I said. “I’m feeling rather pissed off.”
But I wasn’t going to fight over this right now, especially not after that letter Malcolm had sent, or the freaky way he’d been loitering around the Assembly.
Once I had a better idea of what he was up to, I might press the issue, but I’d wait it out for now.
As I turned to meet my escort, the shadows around the gate parted and three vampires were just there.
The bright afternoon sun didn’t affect them at all as one by one they approached the gate.
Lovely. Amund’s welcoming committee consisted of older vamps, but I should have expected no less.
I didn’t know if I should be flattered by the fact that he’d sent three of his older vamps, or worried.
Two men and a woman came to a halt in front of the gate, the woman just slightly in front. Her dark brown eyes were intense and bright, glowing like a fire burned within them. She reached up and wrapped her hands around the gate posts. “Kit Colbana. Thank you for coming.”
She cocked her head and smiled at me. The power coming from the three of them made me queasy and I fought to hide it.
Her smile widened just a fraction, revealing a glimpse of pearly white teeth.
It made me wonder if she was aware of every thought dancing through my mind.
A split second later, I felt the unmistakable probe of somebody testing my shields.
I tensed at the feel and slammed up stronger shields.
Irritated at the rudeness of it, I put a hand on the hilt of my sword. “I’m almost positive it’s considered an insult to read minds without an invitation, seeing as how I was asked to come here.”
I’d thought it was the woman.
It wasn’t.
She stiffened, the smile falling away as she pulled back from the gate. Turning to the vampire at her left, she struck out, moving so quickly, he was flying through the air before my brain could fully realize what had happened.
“You will apologize,” she said calmly before turning back to me. She gave me a nod and spoke directly to me. “Of course, his teeth need time to heal. Miss Colbana, let me offer the first apology—he was terribly rude and we’re sorry for the offense.” She gave a deep nod of her head before looking back over her shoulder. “Get up, you pathetic mule.”
As he did so, she looked back at me with those gleaming brown eyes. They glowed against skin that had likely been a warm gold in her human life. Now that gold was muted, but strangely…incandescent, as if lit somehow from within with that strange power that came from vampirism.
The golden skin, the high cheekbones spoke of mixed ancestry and the musical cadence of her voice made me think of Africa. The entire package spoke of regal, contained power.
“I am Maxine, one of Amund’s children. This is Bryant, another of Amund’s house.” She gestured to the one on her right. He gave me a deep nod as Maxine stepped back. “The one who insulted you is Anton. He’ll be dealt with upon reaching the house, I assure you.”
“Didn't you already
deal with him?”
He approached us, blood staining his face and shirt, but no longer flowing. As I looked at him, he drew a handkerchief from inside his suit coat and wiped at his face. All he did was smear the bloody mess but he didn’t seem to care.
He gave me a level look, marred only by a faint smile, as if this was nothing he wasn’t used to.
Vampires are so creepy.
“It was a tap, nothing compared to the insult rendered to our master.” She lifted her shoulder in an elegant shrug. “An insult to a guest is an insult to the master. Anton knows this.”
With that, she turned and gestured to the man. “Open the gates.”
His face tightened at the order as he moved to comply.
That alone filled me in on a couple of things. He was stronger than the other guy, Bryant. Older, too.
Vampires hierarchy was very much based on the might makes right system. In his eyes, Bryant should be opening gates and taking care of any other menial tasks.
However, Anton was weaker than Maxine. And that pissed him off—he probably came from an era when having a dick made one superior.
It was no surprise that Maxine was the strongest of them. Her power wasn't beating out my shields like Anton's, nor was it a quiet hum, like Bryant’s.
It was…soft. A gentle music in the night. That sort of power resonance only came with control, the kind that came from decades upon decades of practice.
After Anton opened the gates, he stepped aside with a mocking bow. “After you, honored guest.”
Ignoring him, I focused on the woman who had introduced herself as Maxine. “May I ask a question?”
“You may.” She arched a brow. “Whether or not I answer depends on the question.”
I’d already figured that. But it couldn’t hurt.
I doubted I’d get another chance. “You said you’re one of Amund’s…children. Not just one of his House. Is there significance to that?”
“Clever girl.”
I hate it when people talk like that. It was like they were rewarding a dog for doing a trick. But I didn’t respond, just waited.
“Amund made me. I’m his youngest direct descendant—and his most beloved.” She gestured to the men who’d accompanied her. “There are others here who were made by myself or my siblings, but Amund has not made a vampire since he brought me over. He told me I would be last, and I was.”
Haunted Blade (Colbana Files Book 6) Page 10