Cool Hand

by Mark Henwick

  I could see the surprise in Yelena’s eyes as she processed Jen’s scent, and I could imagine what was going through her head. Kin? Unbitten?

  Olivia didn’t have any problem with Yelena; she just trusted the judgment that Nick and I had both made: “Olivia Todd. The Were don’t do formal much. I guess Pack Deauville, and kin-Farrell? Welcome anyway.”

  I cleared my throat. “Ahh, no. Kin-Farrell means something more specific. Just House Farrell is fine.”

  Olivia ducked her head and blushed.

  “Julie Alverson, security. Hi.” Julie stuck her hand out. Minus the Sig, thankfully.

  I tried not to grin. No neck kissing for Julie.

  Yelena took the hand. I caught the quick flare of her nose again.

  “And Nick Gray, who you all know already,” I said to try and lessen the tension a bit. “Altau would prefer everyone to be in little Athanate boxes, so I’ll be calling Nick and Olivia Aspirants.”

  Julie persuaded Jen to get back in the car. We were reasonably sure there weren’t any more Matlal in Denver, but that wouldn’t be much comfort if we got shot. Nick stayed outside with Julie to help keep the whole area under observation.

  I gave Bian a wait-one-minute wave. She tapped her watch and frowned while I climbed in.

  Pia was in the driver’s seat; Olivia, Yelena, Jen and I were in the back.

  Yelena’s eyes were roaming over the shopping. The Tenero e Intime bags had to be on top, naturally. There was no judgment in her face, though, just a slight bewilderment.

  I could imagine her asking herself what she’d landed in. Tough—she was in it now.

  “Okay, practical things. Have you got documentation? American ID?”

  Yelena nodded and pulled a passport and driver’s license from her jacket pocket. I wasn’t an expert, but I’d seen my share of fake documentation. These looked good.

  I handed them back.

  “Have you fed enough recently?” Her reactions made me suspect not.

  “No.” Her voice was strained.

  Her eyes slipped to the side. Jen. Julie. Maybe even Olivia, not fully Were. None of them bitten.

  It was very quiet in the car. Jen understood exactly what we were talking about.

  Yelena had fed on Nick recently. Away from the confusion of smells in the apartment, I could tell she’d bitten him. But whatever it was in Blood that Athanate needed, Were couldn’t provide enough of it.

  A problem I would have to face with Alex in the future.

  Today’s problem was much sharper: Yelena needed Blood, now or soon. Pia’s kin were already supplying Pia and David, and they weren’t enough for those two, let alone another Athanate.

  In a normal Athanate House, there were expectations of kin. The Master or Mistress of the House had Blood rights on everyone, including the kin. In fact, it was expected for him or her to exercise those rights regularly, to confirm the marque. Individual Athanate might bond, like Pia and David, and share kin. A Mentor would share kin with his or her Aspirants. Any kin might be called on in an emergency. Or when a new member arrived.

  And of course, with Athanate, Blood and sex twined together. When was I going to pick that thorny knot apart, and how complex did it make this situation?

  Echoes of Yelena’s rant against Naryn rolled around in my head. In theory, in any Panethus House, a kin could refuse. That wasn’t good enough for me. I’d had Pia working on a charter for House Farrell, where it said explicitly that kin chose to give Blood, or not, and the same for sex.

  How should I treat Yelena?

  I could tell her to go off and find her own Blood. She’d survived in Denver doing just that, and I wasn’t worried about her running off. She could have done that at any time. Instead, she’d stopped feeding on unknowing humans. Even more important than that to me, she was in House Farrell now. To send her out would give a completely wrong message.

  “It’s a fundamental principle in House Farrell that kin are informed and consenting,” I said. Gods, I sounded like some pompous lecturer. “Not drunk, high, dosed with pheromones, ordered by me, or plain compelled.”

  Yelena nodded acceptance.

  I was expecting some kind of push back, but all I got from her was a look full of patience and trust. She was expecting me to sort this out.

  Jen and Olivia both started to speak at the same time and stopped. They laughed in embarrassment, and Olivia got back in first.

  “No, Jen, you’re doing so much already, and…well. Time I did something, even though I’m half wolf. This one’s on me.” She slid across the seats, trying to make a joke of it, but the stress making her voice harsh. “Bite me, babe.”

  Joke or not, Yelena’s eyes went dark and glittery, her face paled and her lungs began to labor. Her arm slipped sensuously around Olivia, whose eyes went wide. Yelena half-turned, pulling Olivia closer. Her breath rushed through lips that had gone soft in anticipation. Fangs appeared in her open mouth. Olivia looked at them as if hypnotized.

  Oh, hell, it’s going to happen right now. What if something goes wrong? Even if nothing goes wrong, what the hell am I going to tell Ricky?

  “No.” Pia leaned over the seat and reached out a hand to Yelena, speaking in the formal Athanate style. “My sister, wait just one hour. The hunger is deep upon you and Olivia’s first should be gentle. With my kin, Gary and Leon, you can drink your fill.”

  I started to speak, but she anticipated my argument and turned to me.

  “When I became a Mentor, it was a decision for my kin as well as me. They expect to be called on for this, and they would be offended if they weren’t. Also, they’re trained.”

  Trained. She meant that if Yelena got a little out of hand the twins wouldn’t start thrashing and panicking, which would only make things worse. Trained also meant being able to read her signals and calm her down. And with two of them, they had a slim chance that they might be able to. On top of that, Yelena would need to take only half from each, making it easier for them to recover.

  If it went the other way, if Yelena indulged herself with the attractive twins, mixed sex and Blood, how angry would Nick be? Damn, but running an Athanate House was hard enough without additional complications like these.

  I’d seen Bian recover from Blood arousal. Diana had been there and warned me that many Athanate would not be able to control themselves. Yelena could. She shuddered and turned her head away, as if Olivia’s face had become painfully bright to her eyes.

  Then she came off the seat and knelt in the central space, surrounded by all the shopping bags. She took Pia’s outstretched hand and pressed her lips to it.

  “Thank you, sister.”

  She returned and sat back. I expected Olivia to move away, but she didn’t. She threaded Yelena’s arm around her and snuggled her head against her. “Rain check, I guess,” she said brightly.

  For all her bravado, her heart rate hadn’t returned to normal. I couldn’t decide whether it was brave or foolish.

  Yelena liked it. “I will look forward to it, and I will not be rough, sister,” she said. She kissed the redhead’s hair gently and then tilted her head back and closed her eyes. It looked as if she was concentrating on her breathing.

  Everyone was doing things for the House. Putting themselves in danger. Welcoming Yelena.

  And everyone was relying on me, on my judgment, even though I was constantly getting everything wrong.

  What if I was wrong about Yelena?

  What damage might she do to my House?

  How long could I go on making mistakes before I made one we couldn’t come back from?

  Chapter 11

  Speaking of mistakes, I had a date to be dressed down by Naryn, one that I couldn’t delay any longer.

  “How deep is the shit I’m in?” I tried to make a joke of it with Bian in the car.

  “This isn’t funny.” She shook her head. “You’re not getting it. Put yourself in his shoes. He’s been given the Denver mantle. That means he’s responsible for what happ
ens in Denver, but not in the human meaning of the word. In Athanate terms, Panethus can demand he receive the punishment due anyone in his mantle. You go rogue, and Panethus can have him executed.”

  I knew the way the Athanate law went; I was responsible in exactly the same way for members of my House. I just hadn’t thought about it from Naryn’s point of view.

  “He knows you’ve been given a difficult task and your House needs a leader,” she went on. “He also knows you’ve achieved a lot under difficult circumstances for Altau.”

  “But…” I prompted her.

  “But he can’t accept the risk of him and Skylur getting the blame for what you might do because of a crusis event we can’t predict. Or because your wolf tips your Athanate over the edge. Or you simply do something wrong because you don’t understand all the Athanate laws yet.”

  Yeah, what would I do in his shoes? I was silent as I let that sink in.

  “I argued him back on the mania, based on Keith being an ex. I’ve pointed out you’re a liaison with the wolves and a pack member, so this isn’t just Athanate business and he doesn’t want to upset Larimer if he can help it.”

  I cleared my throat. “Is that going to be enough?”

  “With you taking a Carpathian spy into your House?” She sighed. “I don’t know. It may depend on what Skylur thinks of it. If he’s had time to respond to Naryn’s messages.”

  Okay, Naryn had a tough job to do. I got that.

  But was the way he behaved toward me solely because of that? I wasn’t so sure.

  This was going to be a helluva meeting.

  We drove the rest of the way without talking.

  Only a couple of weeks ago, in the aftermath of the Assembly, the grounds of Haven had been a tent city. The need to absorb new Houses into Panethus in the shortest possible time had overridden the security issues. Every security team from every House had visited. Every inch of the property had been used.

  Today it was silent and empty, still covered in snow from the freak storm we’d had.

  We walked in through the main doors, and the place felt as empty inside as out.

  “What’s happened to the Bow Creek children?” I asked.

  Bian grimaced. “About to be sent to Ireland. We negotiated a deal with House Glandore. They’re…” she searched for a phrase, “specialists in dealing with trauma.”

  “Wasn’t there anyone closer?” Some of the children didn’t even speak English.

  “We have Houses in North America that deal with this sort of thing, but everyone is on maximum alert against an attack by Basilikos.”

  “And here?” I gestured around. “By now, Basilikos knows where this place is.”

  Bian snorted. “Think of it as the Empty Fort Strategy, from Wang Jingzé’s Thirty-Six Stratagems. Basilikos knows we know they know. They see a valuable location left obviously undefended. Therefore, it must be a trap.”

  “That’s great,” I said. “Except when it goes wrong. Don’t we still have the Lyssae for protection?”

  In the depths of Haven there was a room with living statues, the Lyssae. When they weren’t being statues they were defenders of House Altau, and I’d guess each of them was worth as many as thirty Athanate. I’d met them and I wouldn’t want to go up against them, not with all of Ops 4-10 at my back.

  “Only Skylur or Diana would be able to control them,” Bian said with a scowl.

  So that would be a ‘no’. I hoped the empty fort bluff worked. Losing Haven would be a huge blow for Altau.

  The house wasn’t as empty as it seemed. The children were in the main library, being looked after by Elizabetta’s team, and Bian let me go in and see them.

  It was a mistake; there wasn’t anything I could do. Most of them were heavily sedated, asleep or staring blankly into space. It was eerily quiet.

  There was food. Some of them had been awake enough to eat. No hamburgers or spicy tacos: rice, grains, bread and water. There were some plain fruits and nuts, which was good.

  Gerardo and the girl who’d been hiding in the tool cabinets with him were awake.

  They looked listlessly at us, but Gerardo’s face changed when he realized who we were. He fought the drugs in his system to speak. “Devils,” he whispered. “Devil women.”

  They were both wearing rough robes, which was all that had been found at Bow Creek. A supply of clothing was on its way, but I wondered if Elizabetta was going to be able to persuade them to get dressed. Would they even know how to tie shoelaces?

  And worse, Gerardo and his friend didn’t seem to have any idea of modesty or proper clothing. Their robes were hanging half open. Maybe they were dazed by the drugs, but I got the impression they just didn’t care.

  “Nos reuniremos de nuevo. I hope we will meet again,” I said gently. “Nosotros puede habla. And we can talk.”

  “I will kill you,” he slurred. “You steal my chance to be Matlal. I will kill you.”

  If he’d been able to, I thought he would have spat at me.

  Bian pulled at me, her face utterly blank.

  I bit my lip and turned away.

  Was Matlal the worst of the Basilikos? Or were there other children like this, all over the world in Basilikos domains?

  We got into the elevator.

  “How long?” she said. She didn’t press a floor button; she entered a code on the pad. Her fingers stabbed at the numbers, missing them. She had to do it twice.

  I waited.

  “How long,” she said again, “after he was kidnapped, did it take him to stop crying for his parents? To realize that they weren’t coming? To become that?”

  I had no answer.

  I’d seen glimpses of the Bian beneath the faces she projected to the world, but today was the first I’d seen of a pain like this.

  She was still facing the elevator panel, her face hidden from me.

  “Naryn’s going to test you, Amber,” she said. “He’s going to need to know how things are going with the pack. About Larry and Yelena. About Keith and your kin. About obeying orders. He’s going to pressure you and see how well you handle the stress. He’ll give you orders you won’t want to follow. How you handle all that is his overriding concern at the moment. If you don’t pass, then he’ll order me to put you in one of our security cells.” She paused and half-turned her head to me. “I can’t go against him in that situation.”

  I didn’t feel there was anything I could say to that, so we went the rest of the way down in silence.

  When the doors opened, it was to a dimly-lit cavern.

  It was the first time I’d seen the Altau command center.

  It looked like an abandoned TV news studio. There were the rows of tables with computer screens. Headsets, keyboards and mice lay on the tables. Rolling chairs were neatly docked against them. All the workstations were empty.

  At the far end was a raised circular dais holding a huge desk shaped like a C. Naryn sat there in the middle of it, backlit by a curved wall of monitors. His head was bowed and he was listening to something on a headset. His eyes flicked dispassionately to us for a moment before he returned to concentrating on whatever he was listening to.

  He was a short man, with black hair, olive skin and intense eyes. Even sitting, he managed to convey the impression of balance and power. He was dressed in tan chinos and a rumpled, pale blue shirt. A plate of drying sandwiches and a tall coffee mug sat forgotten on the desk.

  As we neared, he pulled his headset mike away from his mouth and covered it with his hand.

  “The facial recognition system isn’t working again,” he said quietly, without raising his head.

  “Probably the same reason as last time.” Bian woke up one of the closer workstations and her fingers danced over the keyboard and mouse. A vertical bank of screens behind Naryn began to display a changing selection of video feeds from airports and transportation hubs.

  My mouth twisted. It looked like they were hacking all the security cameras in Colorado.

  I
pulled over a chair and sat at the command table.

  Naryn spoke Athanate quietly for a minute more before finishing the conversation and slipping the headset off.

  He rubbed his face. He looked like I felt.

  With Bian distracted, I decided to get in first.

  On Tuesday, despite Haven being practically unmanned, not to mention completely snowbound, Naryn had come in to Denver to help against Noble and Colonel Petersen’s troops. He was too late to join in the battle on Coykuti Mountain, but given the freak snowstorm, I was amazed he’d been able to get in at all. Also, once he grasped the situation, he hadn’t wasted any time in arguments; he’d just concentrated on where he could make the most difference. A very different side of him from the angry Diakon of our previous meeting, who wanted nothing more than to lock me up.

  “Thank you for your help with Emily and her family,” I said. “It was a huge relief, being able to focus just on the problems with Larimer’s pack.”

  “Working as a team can do that,” he said.

  I had enough of a feel for the way he came at things to realize the quiet start didn’t bode well for the rest of this conversation. The longer he spoke gently, the rougher it was going to get.

  “What I did,” he said, “I would do for any member of Altau.”

  And that was a neat reminder of what Bian had said: I might be House Farrell, but I was still part of Altau, and as Diakon, he represented House Altau in Skylur’s absence.

  “That’s how Athanate Houses work. The least of us can call on our resources, and expect support to the utmost of the House’s abilities.” He leaned back and motioned me to pull up a chair before concluding. “The justifications and accounting come afterward.”

  Ouch.

  I sat opposite him. Bian continued her work on the computer systems. A second bank of monitors started displaying freeze-frame pictures of faces from the security cameras. The faces were progressively overlaid with patterns of neon-green triangles. At the end, they looked as if they’d been reconstructed from green wire.

  “I understand there’s been no challenge for the leadership of the pack,” Naryn said. “How have you left the situation with Larimer?”