Expression resigned, he perched on the edge of his desk – a less authoritative posture. “Why did you go there, of all places?”
I considered his question, wondering if he hadn't heard the story yet or wanted to hear it from me again. “Mwara came to see me a couple months ago. I was walking home when I spotted her, standing against the pedestrian traffic, waiting for me.” I took a long breath, considering my words. “She wanted me to promise her that if her mother sent her to the PSS when she hit puberty that I'd go after her, like I did for Archer.”
Roland leaned forward, hands clasped together. “Why would she come to you, of all people?” He wasn't questioning the credibility of my words like Archer had. He was truly wondering why Mwara came to me, of all people.
I smiled humorlessly. “A kindred spirit. Someone who would sympathize with her ploy. I don't know. She was afraid of the entire clan. I offered to talk to Vincent, but she was afraid of him, too.”
He sighed, an odd expression in his eyes. “Did you sense the child there?”
“In the PSS? No. But if they have her, they wouldn't keep her in level two.”
Roland's expression turned thoughtful. “Let me ask you something. Do you really think they have her?”
“I don't know.”
He shook his head. “Let me rephrase the question. If I guarantee you that Elizabeth is Mwara's mother, do you believe the Scientists have her?”
I shook my head.
“Then they don't have her,” he declared with finality.
“But what if she ran and someone found her, and then sold her to the PSS? They wouldn't think twice about conducting experiments without reporting the kid.”
He considered it. “The possibility of someone lurking around for an opportunity to snatch the Longlan kid from here, of all places, is very unlikely.” He raised a hand to cut off whatever I was about to say and went on, “In any case, I don't think the PSS would be conducting clandestine operations for a while yet. It's come to my knowledge that they are very well behaved. After what happened with Archer, their donors became – let's say, somewhat frugal with resources. I don't believe they would try anything, at least for a few years.”
I nodded once, said nothing.
“Do you have any other leads?”
I shook my head, thought about something, and hesitated.
“What is it?”
“I … nothing,” I replied with a frown.
“Tell me. Whatever you believe may be a lead, no matter how insignificant, never discard it. Every detail is important, a part of a puzzle. If a piece is missing, the picture will never be complete. Now, tell me what you're thinking.”
“It's just something you said.” I frowned, trying to gather my thoughts. “About people lurking around.” At Roland's nod I went on, “Back when Mwara came to see me? The following week, remember, I was ambushed by Angelina Hawthorn, not far from the spot where Mwara had intercepted me.” I paused, and when Roland didn't interject, I went on, “I didn't follow her into the alleyway because I'm naïve or gullible. I knew it was a trap.” Again I looked at him, but saw no anger with the revelation that I hadn't told him everything that had gone down that night. “She told me she had my friend and implied she'd kill her if I didn't follow.”
I got up and started pacing, too wired to stay seated while I tried to piece that night together in a coherent string of events. “She told me that my friend looked so young and fragile, she was afraid my friend wouldn't last long. Maybe she'd been talking about Mwara all along.” I murmured.
Roland's brow furrowed, eyes thoughtful. He straightened and moved to stand by the window, stared at the street below.
“She gave me a lock of hair, one I thought belonged to my friend. Vicky, my friend, is blonde, and so was the lock of hair Angelina gave me. So is Mwara.” I closed my eyes, trying to remember the hue of Mwara's hair. “Maybe Mwara's was a shade darker than Vicky's,. I don't know. I don't know,” I repeated, frustrated.
“Do you still have the lock of hair?”
“No, I threw it away when I realized my friend was safe and that I'd been tricked.” I paced to the window and back, gathering my train of thought. “It fits,” I murmured. “It fits.”
Roland turned to face me, his eyes tired. Had those lines been there when I first met him? “Did Vincent tell you about what happened with his case?”
I frowned. “No. I assumed his presence here meant it's been solved.”
He nodded once. “In a way, the threat down south was contained. But the case didn't close. We believe there's a higher master involved, the strategist behind all the fledglings. Angelina Hawthorn was seen a few times in that general vicinity, talking with the master vampire responsible for the turnings. We kept tabs on her, but were never able to get close enough.”
“You think Angelina was behind the entire thing?” I asked, astonished.
“She still is. Vincent didn't catch her. Or the fledglings. They all disappeared overnight without a trace. Vincent estimated there were around sixty to seventy newly turned vampires in that group. The master responsible for their turning was found dead a day later near a pier.”
“Do you think…?” I shook my head. “I don't understand.”
“We believe she got a whiff we were closing in and packed up shop. She probably relocated to another state. We're on the look-out for a sudden increase of missing-people reports to determine where she might start over.”
“But the fledglings, what does she want with them?”
“It's possible she's trying to start another power base here in the U.S., but she hasn't registered with any council, so all her movements would be illegal. I can't think of any other reason, unless she's trying to build an army to overthrow the master vampires here.”
“Is that possible?” I asked, because I wasn't sure about his tone.
“In a decade or so, if she continues building an army, yes. But it's very unlikely she'll be able to go unchallenged for that long.”
“Maybe she'll take them back to her country?”
“Anything's possible. Vincent has a theory. He believes she's going to march on Juan Silva, the master from Mexico. They're long-ago rivals and her location down in Miami could've been a planned strategy.”
“But where do I fit in all this?”
Roland clasped his hands together. “I don't think you were part of the plan. Jacob Black was one of her firsts, and her right hand.”
I slumped against the window. I was back to ground zero.
“How did Mwara find you?”
“Don't know. I never asked.” Oh, how I wished I could turn back time.
“How did she get here?”
“When I told her she was a long way from home, she said it was a fast track through the paths.”
He nodded. “The leeway. Start from there, then.”
“Sure,” I said. “Can you spare any Hunter to help?”
Roland's eyes chilled again and he shook his head. “The Hunters have no jurisdiction over clan affairs, as long as they aren't breaking the law.”
“So executing me after two weeks is a sanctioned practice?”
The frost in Roland's eyes evolved into heated fury. “Preternaturals have harsher rules and laws to abide by, Miss Fosch, and I can't change them to accommodate one member.”
I stood. “Is there anything else?” I asked, unable to hide the bite from my voice.
Roland moved behind his desk, radiating anger. He picked up papers, shuffled them around. I was about to leave when he asked, “Are you sure about your abjuration ritual?”
“Yes, I am.”
He only nodded. “Let me give you a piece of advice, Roxanne,” He met my gaze again and the anger was almost under control, nothing more than left-over residue. “Stay away from Zantry Akinzo.”
I blinked. That wasn't what I was expecting him to say. “Why?”
“He's been labeled a traitor, accused of murder. You were seen walking with him, that looks suspicious
.”
“Suspicious how?”
“Archer believes Akinzo helped dispose of Arianna, and was able to sense the residue of his energy over you the other day. To Archer, that's another mark against you.”
“He helped me heal from the attack in the Low Lands.”
“Yes, I know that, but others don't. Why did he help?”
I shrugged. “Ask him. I met him at the charity ball.”
“It's believed that Arianna was Archer's mate, though it was never confirmed. At the very least, the two used to be an item, before his daughter was killed. Then Arianna and Zantry disappeared, and Archer tore the worlds searching for them. Now Zantry's back and everyone's on edge, hoping she's coming back too, knowing if she was, she'd have come with him.” Roland tapped a finger over the glass of his executive desk. “Speculation is that it took Zantry and Remo this long to be able to dispose of her permanently, and now that she's out of the picture, Zantry's back to help Remo take control of the worlds.”
I held Roland's gaze for a moment. “Do you think Zantry did it?”
Roland laced his hands behind his back and half turned to look out the window again. This close to the ground, traffic could be heard loud and clear, but with the windows closed and the heat on, the sound was muffled down to a tolerable level. “I believe something happened that Zantry isn't telling. I believe he's either Remo's accomplice and he did what he did, or something else happened, something big enough that he's willing to be labeled a traitor rather than confess the truth. Because I have zero proof either way, I'll reserve judgment.”
* * *
I strolled into Central Park with an easy gate, following trails deep into the greenery until I could no longer see the buildings, though the honking of busy traffic could still be heard. Anyone who saw me would think I was a lonely woman with nothing to do but kill time, no cares in the world. I went deep enough to see signs of the illegal deals that went down at night – empty syringes, broken bottles, crushed beer cans. I passed a few homeless figures, but no one glanced twice at me. When I found an empty bench clear of debris, I sat down, letting my head rest on open palms. No tears threatened to come, though the despair I felt would have doubled a grown man.
Start in the leeway. Easy to say. But I couldn't travel the leeway on my own. And I had no help.
Would Diggy be considered inside help? No, Roland already said he couldn't appoint a member to help…. the hunters had no jurisdiction, he had said.
“Think, Roxanne, think” I whispered under my breath, rubbing my hands over my face. Where could I find the body of a child that had been missing for more than two months? What if she'd been eaten, like Dr. Dean and Remo Drammen? I shuddered just to think that.
Someone sat beside me and, although the smell of citrusy spices told me who, I still lowered my hands and glanced sideways.
“Are you stalking me?”
Zantry flashed a brilliant smile. “I'd rather make you company than watch from afar.”
I looked away, not in the mood to banter.
“I'm sorry about the child,” he said after a moment.
“Yeah, so am I.”
“Can I help?”
I turned to him, bewildered. “Why would you?”
Zantry's eyes glinted with amusement. “Do you always question a gift horse in the mouth?”
“Why not? Nothing is free nowadays. And everyone tells me not to trust you.” The latter was nothing more than empty words, meant to hurt and send him away, but he took them well enough.
“How notorious of me.” He chuckled.
I looked down at my lap, examined my empty hands. I had no desire to talk, but I knew I couldn't afford to tell him to go.
“You know, I heard Vemourly is taking a lot of heat because of you,” Zantry said, stretching his legs. He was wearing jeans and black boots, both expensive brands.
I frowned, not sure if I'd understood him correctly. “Heat? For what? Because I got hurt in the caves?”
Zantry studied my face, scrutinizing my expression before looking away and zipping up his suede jacket, contemplating his next words. “He's been accused of the murder of the Longlan kid as well.”
“What, why?” I asked, baffled.
“Because it's said you can't travel the paths on your own. And Vemourly has been taking you every day to the Low Lands under the guise of tutelage.”
I stood and gaped down at Zantry. “We were training!” But I shouldn't have been surprised. Logan had said as much to me yesterday. I just didn't think Diggy would be dragged into the mess with me. He wasn't even from the same clan. What's the point of an abjuration if the clan could just go and demand their holy due payment from other clans as well?
Zantry dismissed my outburst with a quick wave of a hand. “That's what he said. But you see, you two had the means, the opportunity.” He ticked the items off on his fingers. “And motive.”
My mouth opened and closed, open and closed. I didn't say anything. I should have seen this coming. And do what?
Zantry's shoulders twitched once and he went on. “There were some protests, of course, and Mackenzie had to step in, explain the sessions had been sanctioned. Then the entire guild was balancing precariously, until Vemourly assumed full responsibility for your deeds.”
I sat, my legs going weak. “Why did he do that for?”
The Hunters are taking some heat right now, Roxanne, Roland had said. Had he been talking about my confrontation with Dr. Maxwell, or something else altogether?
“He did it to defend the guild. But it's fact he's been the one responsible for you for the past few months. If he isn't an accomplice, he overlooked your actions, or something to that effect, and we're back to square one.”
“Where – where did you hear that from?”
“I have my ways.”
Damn. Roland had been furious with the accusation, not me. Because of Mwara, he'd technically lost three members. And the entire base was under suspicion.
“They sent Vincent away.” As I said it, I waved a hand. “But you probably know that already.”
Zantry murmured some confirmation.
I looked up at the branches, the sky a white curtain above. “So does that mean if I fail, Diggy will pay too?”
Zantry was quiet. When I glanced at him, I found him watching me, those violet-blue eyes somber. “Yes,” he said simply. “Along with Vagner, because he vouched for you.”
I closed my eyes, regretting that I didn't ignore Mwara on the street and kept walking home. Or maybe I should've accepted Vincent's offer to drive me.
Bitch was such a nice compliment to hindsight.
“Where is she?” I murmured.
“I don't know.”
“I thought you were omniscient or something?”
Zantry chuckled, the sound bitter. “No. I just got a few tricks up my sleeves.”
I took a deep breath, gathered my fraying control, and asked, “So, Zantry, where do we start?”
He stood and extended a hand.
I took it, a warm static jolt coursing through me.
“We'll go a step at a time,” he stated, pulling me upright.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I took Zantry home and showed him the notes Logan had given me. Halfway through, he asked a few questions, logical ones I should have made if only I'd gone over the papers myself, and the lack of answers had my hackles rising.
I left him to pour through the remaining notes and called Logan.
“Roxanne,” he answered with a warm note.
“Hey,” I replied. “About Mwara,” I began, too impatient for idle chitchat.
“Yes?”
“Where did you get the photos from?”
There was a thick pause that made my anger flicker with suspicion.
“It was mailed to us.”
“When?”
“About three weeks ago.”
Before I had told him that Mwara had come to see me. He already knew. Ah, Roxy, you're such a fool.
<
br /> “Did you know that those photos came from the bakery security cameras, where I met Mwara?”
“Yes, we figured that out once you showed me where you two met.”
“Oh?” I paused, “Were you able to go through their surveillance feed?”
Another thick pause. “No, the owner said that the feed from December was no longer available.”
“I see,” I murmured. The barrister had told me their feed deleted at 11:59pm on the last day of every month – and started anew at 12:00am on the first day of the new month. For those photos to have been printed, someone must have had them since December to ensure data wasn't lost.
“What are you thinking?” Logan asked in the silence that followed.
“That I'm being framed and you're either a fool, or are deliberately turning a blind eye in the other direction,” I replied coolly.
I expected denial or something similar, but all he did was sigh. A long, resigned sound that had me gritting my teeth so hard, my jaw ached.
“Look, Roxanne, I know how this looks. I know you didn't do it. But I don't have anything to prove your innocence, I can't just stand and say all the evidence is bogus. Before you admitted to meeting with Mwara, I had everyone half convinced those photos were montaged, that someone was trying to frame you. But no one's listening to me anymore. The evidence is there and I have nothing to counteract it. On the contrary, every argument I make on your favor is overruled by another piece of evidence. I know this means nothing to you, but I'm really sorry the council won't see reason.”
“I think they do. They just want me out of the way.”
“It's not like that. You don't understand.”
“Well, by all means, explain it to me then. Do they think this evidence is falling from the sky? Or maybe they think I mailed those photos myself?” I raised my eyebrows, aware he couldn't see my sarcastic expression.
Logan hissed. “I pointed out that you were being framed and that the culprit was whoever had sent the photos, but again, there was no proof. They say that there's the possibility someone saw the two of you and is trying to help the kid without getting involved in clan politics.”
“If someone thought I'd done something to the kid and wanted to help her, they would have sent those photos in December, not three weeks ago,” I pointed out.
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