The Book of Betrayal

by Melissa McShane

  I peeked out again. The men and woman were gone, probably crowded into Malcolm’s room like so many sardines in a can. If I was going to go, now was the best time.

  I slid through the narrow opening and headed down the hall toward the elevator, moving slowly though I wanted to run. I still had to worry about being detected by ordinary people, of whom there were suddenly dozens, it seemed. Campbell Security had seriously disrupted the second floor. It took me nearly five minutes to get to the stairs, where I had another setback: someone dressed in the black fatigues of Campbell Security stood in front of them. She wasn’t armed, at least as far as I could see, but she had the look of someone who could kill me with her pinky finger.

  I turned around and headed for the green elevator, where I mashed the down button with relief at finding a way out. Well, that was a waste of twelve hundred dollars.

  The elevator finally arrived, and for a miracle no one was around to wonder why it stopped for no one on the second floor. I stood off to one side and leaned against the wall. I’d have to ask Derrick why there was so much security around Malcolm—though he couldn’t have known about it, or he would have warned me. I’d just have to be patient a while longer, and wait for Malcolm to be out of the hospital and fully healed. I hated being patient.

  The elevator came to a stop, and the door slid open. I pushed myself off the wall, took a step, and had to fling myself backward to avoid the two women who got on. “—too far away,” the older woman said.

  “It’s still inconvenient,” the younger woman said. I edged around her, trying to get past, but she and her companion stood too far apart and too close to the door. They were perfectly configured to make it impossible for me to pass. Odd—it was the two women who’d allowed me to enter the hospital a few minutes ago. I stepped back into the corner as the door shut. I’d just have to ride the elevator until they got off. Fortunately, I had about seventy-five minutes of invisibility left. This whole evening was seriously annoying.

  “I hardly consider his safety an inconvenience,” the older woman said. “If they have caught someone, that makes it worth the time and money.” She had a slight French accent and was dressed expensively in a fur coat, pantsuit, and pearls, and her black hair, which based on her age was probably dyed, was piled high on her head.

  “Caught who?” the younger woman said. She was beautiful, with long dark hair caught back from her face with a diamond-studded clasp. “Thinking the episode was an attack verges on paranoia.”

  “All the steel magi, all at once,” the older woman said, sounding weary, as if she’d had this argument before, and I had to control an astonished intake of breath. “I am not willing to take chances with my son’s life.”

  “I care about his health as much as you do. I’m just saying it’s unlikely anyone’s going to attack him here.”

  The elevator door slid open, and the two women got off. Without even thinking twice, I followed them. It was stupid, walking back into that commotion, but I had no doubt the older woman was Madeleine Campbell, Malcolm’s mother, and the younger woman was probably the lovely Andria. It was risky, but I wanted to hear more.

  The two continued their conversation as they went down the hall toward Malcolm’s room. I followed closely, staying in their wake so I could avoid the nurses and doctors in the hall. There was a knot of people around Malcolm’s door, mostly Campbell Security, but a couple of people in scrubs as well. They parted for Madeleine and Andria, but I stayed outside. The alarm might still be active, and I didn’t want it detecting me again. Besides, the room was crowded enough without adding me to it.

  “—these people leave!” I couldn’t see the speaker, but she sounded tired as well as authoritative. Probably one of the medical staff.

  “They are here for my son’s safety,” Madeleine said. “He has been attacked once already and I want him safe.”

  “Mother, be reasonable,” Malcolm said. My heart leaped at the sound of his voice.

  “No weapons are allowed in the hospital. There’s no way anyone can harm him,” the same voice said. I could practically see the smile on Malcolm’s face, knowing he didn’t need a weapon to—but he couldn’t anymore, could he? He wasn’t a magus. Suddenly it wasn’t so funny.

  “Nevertheless.”

  “Surely we don’t need all these people, Tante Madeleine,” Andria said. She sounded so reasonable even I was nodding along with her. “This was a false alarm.”

  “I insist we post guards,” Madeleine said.

  “And I’m telling you what I told you the last three times you insisted on that,” the tired voice said. “Mr. Campbell is not the only patient on this floor, and he cannot be allowed to disrupt the others. I was required to give you a room for your…men…and frankly I don’t know what they were responding to, since the floor’s been quiet all evening. But I won’t let you treat this ward like your personal fief.”

  Silently, I cheered the tired woman. Standing up to Madeleine Campbell had to be difficult.

  “I don’t need guards, Mother,” Malcolm said. “I would like to sleep, if that’s all right with you.” Dry sarcasm filled the air.

  “You are not capable of defending yourself right now, Malcolm,” Madeleine said. “Humor me.”

  Malcolm sighed. “Dr. Winston, thank you for your patience,” he said. “Can we compromise on two men remaining? If they stay in the room you’ve provided?”

  “I’d rather none, but it’s been made clear to me my opinion isn’t important.”

  “I think your opinion is very important. Thank you for your understanding.”

  The people nearest the doorway moved, and Dr. Winston emerged. She was a short woman with light brown skin and thick, curly dark hair who walked as if she were bearing a great weight on her shoulders. Was she Malcolm’s surgeon? No, surely a surgeon wouldn’t be doing rounds this late at night. But she was someone responsible for his care. I wished I could thank her for everything she’d done, but even if I’d been visible, she was walking away in the direction opposite the elevator, and soon she turned a corner and was out of sight.

  “Caprelese and Johnson, you can stay,” Malcolm said. “The rest of you escort my mother and Ms. Lemaire to their car. Thank you for responding so promptly to the alarm.”

  “Malcolm, are you sure you’re all right?” Andria said. I didn’t like her voice. It was too smooth, too cultured, too…and I was succumbing to jealousy like an idiot. Malcolm didn’t care anything for her, and it was beneath me to think such negative thoughts about a woman who’d never done me any harm.

  “I am tired, and I would like to sleep,” Malcolm said. “Unless you’d like to sit around chatting some more?”

  “Temper, temper, sweetness,” Andria said, and despite myself I grew irritated again. Calling him “sweetness” like he was her property, and a child at that.

  “Good night, Mother, Andria,” Malcolm said. “Caprelese and Johnson, a word?”

  I stepped back as Andria and Madeleine emerged from the room, flanked by men in black fatigues. Madeleine looked annoyed. Andria looked smug, like she’d won a prize. Curious about what Malcolm was telling his men, I sneaked over to his door to listen.

  “—turn it off,” he said.

  “Sir,” said the woman, “Mrs. Campbell was very specific—”

  “I’m sure she was,” Malcolm said, his voice low and steely. “Mrs. Campbell is always very specific. I, on the other hand, am the one who pays your salary. Until we can be sure there will be no more false alarms, I want it turned off. I don’t want to be woken in the night by a room full of bodyguards looking for nonexistent intruders. I need my rest. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” the woman said. “But what if—”

  “No more objections, Johnson. You and Caprelese turn off the alarm and take yourselves off to the room Dr. Winston so obligingly provided for you. It’s within sight of this room and you’ll hear me if I scream for help.”

  The two guards chuckled. “Yes, sir,” Caprelese
said. “Sorry about all this.”

  “Your response time was excellent. I’m adding a commendation to your records, all of you. Now—out.”

  I stepped to one side and waited. About a minute later, Caprelese and Johnson exited the room and went down the hall a short distance to another door, which they entered. I waited again. The hall was quiet, the nurses at their station busy with their own tasks. I eased the door open and stuck my hand inside, then eased the rest of my body in. No shouts, no pounding feet.

  Malcolm lay propped up in the bed, eyes fixed on the gap in the doorway. “I hoped you were still here somewhere,” he said quietly.

  I shut the door behind me. “That was exciting.”

  “If they’d found you…” Malcolm ran his left hand through his hair. “Let’s just be grateful they didn’t find you.”

  I dragged a chair next to the bed and sat, taking his hand. “What’s up with the alarm? Were you attacked here?”

  “It’s set to detect active magic,” Malcolm said. “My mother has decided the failure of the steel aegises was intended to conceal an attack on me, and that whoever it was will return to finish the job.”

  My mouth fell open. “But—she thinks someone attacked over two hundred magi as a blind? No—thousands worldwide?”

  “Mother has an inflated opinion of the worth of a Campbell soul,” Malcolm said drily. “I am rather more concerned with the fact that she’s intuited this was an attack and not an accident of electromagical energy.”

  “That’s true. But if she thinks it was directed at you…who does she think did it?”

  “Some Nicollien or other. We’ve made plenty of enemies over the years.” Malcolm sighed and squeezed my hand. “Mother won’t think past the general threat. Andria is more likely to reason to the correct conclusion. Fortunately, she doesn’t care.”

  “She seems…nice?”

  Malcolm chuckled. “You don’t think that.”

  “No, I don’t. But I’m trying not to be jealous of your ex-girlfriend. She actually sounds kind of self-centered.”

  “I love how perceptive you are.” He raised my hand to his lips and kissed it. “Andria is rapacious and wholly self-absorbed, but she’s also clever and committed to winning the Long War despite not being a magus. She’s an excellent administrator and will make some man a terrible wife one day. Fortunately for me, I won’t be that man.”

  Tension went out of me I hadn’t realized I was bearing. “Your mother seems committed to keeping you safe.”

  “That sounds like a leading question.”

  “I guess it sort of is. Does she care about you, or about the business?”

  “Insightful, Helena. I’m sure my mother loves me, insofar as she’s capable of loving anyone, but she fears change and I think she knows, despite her affection for Ewan, that he’s not as qualified to run this business as I am. But it’s impossible to tell her, if he’s not capable, it’s because she’s kept him under her thumb all these years.”

  “I’m starting to understand what you meant about how lucky I am in my family. I’m sorry.”

  “I have you, love. I feel like the luckiest man alive.”

  I shifted closer so I could lay my hand along his cheek. “You really are,” I said, and kissed him.

  We kissed, and talked, and kissed some more, for about an hour, then I hugged him one last time and made my slow, creeping way along the hall and down to the lobby. This time, I didn’t bother with dancing in front of the doors; the reception desk was empty, so I just removed the locket and went out as quickly as possible.

  Safely in my car, I stowed the locket away and waited for the car to warm up. So. That was Madeleine and Andria. Despite what I’d told Malcolm, I’d drawn some conclusions about the women, none of them flattering. Maybe it was just my loyalty to Malcolm, but it certainly seemed that neither Madeleine nor Andria really cared much about him. Since I cared about Malcolm very much, I felt inclined to resent them. Malcolm was no longer a magus, and he was going to need a lot of support when he left the hospital. Not because of his physical condition—I was sure Derrick could have him back to normal in no time—but because so much of who Malcolm was was tied up in his identity as a magus—an identity he no longer had.

  Now that Malcolm wasn’t going to die, I could direct my worries elsewhere, like wondering how Malcolm would cope with losing something so essential to him. Maybe I should get him to talk to Harry Keller. Harry had been badly injured by his familiar a few months back, badly enough that his aegis had stopped working and he’d lost his magic. But Harry seemed to be coping with life as a non-magus well…of course, he had his wife Harriet’s support. Maybe I needed to talk to Harriet. Nothing direct, since Harry and Harriet didn’t know Malcolm and I were together, but I could use Harriet’s experience to guide me in helping Malcolm.

  I put the car in gear and headed home. Or maybe this was all premature, and Malcolm would adapt to his new life with no difficulties. He wasn’t even out of the hospital yet. He was strong, and capable…but I’d make plans anyway. It might not benefit Malcolm, but it would keep me from going crazy.

  9

  Wednesday morning, Derrick called as I was brushing my teeth. “He’s coming home Friday,” he said. “Then the real healing can begin.”

  “Will you be able to? I mean, won’t people be suspicious if he comes home with his arm in a cast and then it’s off the next day?”

  “The cast has to stay on for a few weeks, unfortunately, because he’ll be seeing his doctors for follow-up treatment. But I’ll heal the arm so the cast won’t be more than an annoyance. A serious annoyance, knowing Campbell.”

  “But he’ll be well otherwise. His sternum, and all that.”

  “Better than new.”

  “I’m so glad. Thank you.”

  “He’s put his life on the line for my sake too many times for me to begrudge him a little healing now.”

  “Derrick.” I wasn’t sure how to ask this. “He’s not a magus anymore.”

  “No. And no, I don’t know how he’s taking it. He won’t talk about it—steers the conversation elsewhere, or pretends to be tired so we won’t bug him. I want you to see if you can get it out of him. It’s a huge adjustment, losing your magic, and a lot of people…don’t make it.”

  “What do you mean?” But I knew what he meant, and it chilled me. “You don’t think he’d…take his own life? Just because he’s not a magus anymore?”

  “I hope not. I just want him to remember he’s got a lot to live for, and that there are other ways of fighting the Long War. And I’m going to put much of that burden on you.”

  “That’s not a burden. I’ve been thinking about the problem and I have some ideas. Mainly I want him to talk to Harry Keller.”

  “A Nicollien? Seriously?”

  “Everyone likes the Kellers, Derrick. And he and Malcolm are friends. I think Harry might be helpful.”

  “All right.” Derrick still sounded dubious. “It makes sense, I guess.” He sighed. “I don’t know how soon he’ll be able to come to see you, but sometime after Saturday. He won’t be able to sneak around the way he used to—can’t make any more quick and dirty illusions—but I’m sure he’ll think of something. Do what you can to get him to talk about it, all right? And call me if you’re at all concerned about his mental health.”

  “I will.”

  I rinsed my toothbrush for a long time after Derrick hung up. I didn’t think Malcolm would commit suicide just because he’d lost his magic, but I wasn’t totally confident of this. I had no idea what other magi in his position had done, except for Harry, and Harry hadn’t been on the front lines fighting invaders. I knew little about the details of what a hunting team did, so I didn’t know if Malcolm could still fight without his magic. He was ex-military, trained in combat, but his steel aegis had given him immunity to the invaders’ ability to drain a human of his magic, which meant he was now as vulnerable as anyone. He might be a liability to his team now. And there was a par
t of me that didn’t want him to go back to the fight under those conditions, no matter what he wanted.

  I got dressed in a knee-length skirt and black sweater over a white button-down shirt, brushed my hair, and went downstairs. For now, I’d just be grateful he was well and about to get better.

  It was one of those days where I resented having to stay inside. The sky was cloudless blue, the sun shone brightly through the windows, warming me, and it felt like spring rather than winter. I walked to the corner market for lunch for me and Judy and left my jacket at home. The air smelled clean and fresh and made me think of white sheets hanging on a line, soaking up the sunlight.

  Everyone else seemed to feel it, too, because we had very few customers, and the ones who did come in were cheerful and inclined to gossip. I waved goodbye to the latest Ambrosite to enter the store and took a few steps toward the cash register. My phone rang. “Hi, Lucia, what’s up?”

  “Armageddon,” Lucia said. “The Board is going to strike at the shadow cabal at midnight Greenwich mean time. That’s five p.m. our time, in case you were wondering. They’ve instructed me to round up all the traitors I’ve tagged at that exact moment.”

  Less than an hour away. A chill touched my heart. “Why are you telling me?”

  “So you’ll be prepared. I’ve got people trailing our traitors and there’s a chance they might have to apprehend someone in Abernathy’s.”

  “Apprehend, or kill?”

  There was a pause. “I’m under orders to take as many cabal members alive as possible, for interrogation. But if it’s a choice between letting them escape and killing them to prevent escape, I’m authorized to kill.”

  “This is terrifying. What if you’re wrong about a traitor? What if it’s just an innocent with the marker?”