Ilona Andrews - Wildfire

Catalina and Arabella. I spun around.

Victoria pointed at the chair. “Sit.”

I sat.

“I had twelve miscarriages. It runs in the family, something you may need to worry about in the future. We get one offspring per generation, and we count our lucky stars if the child survives. I was my mother’s ninth and final pregnancy. She died when I was twelve. My father followed her two years later. I am House Tremaine. Alone. I wanted a child. The future of the House required it, but I wanted one. And that child would need to be a strong one. A weakling would be killed. The father had to be a Prime. I tried with three different Primes, each carefully chosen, cajoled, seduced, bribed. Whatever it took.”

Her hands curled around her cup like talons. Old pain flared in her eyes.

“Why not marry?”

“Because the man I loved died three weeks into our engagement. He was a precog from the House Vidente. He never foresaw his own death. His business rival commissioned the hit. He was shot as we were walking out of the theater.” She brushed her cheek. “It took me a long time to stop seeing the blood on my skin. It went away, finally, after I killed the last of them.”

“You killed the entire rival House?”

“Yes. All of them, the husband, the wife, the children. Their dog.”

Ice claws pierced my spine.

“For me, there was only one man. But my child required a father. I tried twelve times before I finally saw the writing on the wall. It had to be an in vitro fertilization. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to convince a Prime to donate his sperm? How afraid they are that their precious DNA will grow legs and take off into the world? You can seduce a man into your bed and tell him comfortable lies about how much you desire him and how your contraception is flawless, so he comes inside you, but ask him to ejaculate into a tube and you can’t hide the true purpose of that request. They realize that you intend to have their child, and they run, because they’re cowards.”

I should have walked away, but I couldn’t now. I had to know. “What did you do?”

“In the end, I found one. Formerly of House Molpe. They call themselves something else now. I suppose Molpe was too on the nose. The Office of Records is delighted to call Catalina’s talent siren. They think they are clever and came up with something new, but the truth is, your grandfather’s family called their magic that for generations.”

“How did you convince him?”

She grimaced. “Money. They’d excised him. He was a siren, a true Prime, terrified to use his talent because it brought him nothing but misery.”

“I thought the siren talent only manifested in females.”

“They’d like you to think that, but no. Believe me, I checked. I had far too much riding on it. The father was the lesser hurdle. I also had to find a surrogate. She had to be a Prime. Anything less than a Prime, and I ran the risk of lessening the child’s magic or her failing to carry to term. I couldn’t afford either. Finding a Prime surrogate was impossible.”

Oh no. Oh my God, no. “You didn’t.”

She smiled for the first time, a quick parting of lips and a flash of teeth. “I did.”

“How?”

“Blackmail and money. Two of the oldest levers one presses when trying to move people to her purpose.”

I just stared, horrified.

“Your father wasn’t just special. He was one of a kind. There will never be another. I had them neuter her.”

“What?”

“She’s kept under constant sedation. That’s the only way they can keep her contained. She never knew the pregnancy happened. The cost was astronomical, but it was worth it.”

“That’s horrible. You are horrible.”

“I am.”

She sipped her tea.

“Your father was a triple carrier. His own magic failed to express, which was expected. I never held that against him. I had enough magic for us both. His real value was in the children he would produce. I always had faith that the genes would sort themselves out. But to do that, to be a successor, he had to be shaped and molded. There were lessons he had to learn. Practical, useful lessons that would keep him alive after I was gone. He hated them, and he hated me for teaching them.”

Considering what I just heard, those lessons wouldn’t have been the gentle kind. “He left.”

“He did. I underestimated him. He kept his spine so well-hidden. I pushed and pushed, expecting him to learn or break, but he did neither. He planned his escape and executed it so well that even all of my power couldn’t find him. I was so proud. My son had outsmarted me. I should’ve expected it, but I was so focused on making sure he survived. I had so much to teach and I was in a hurry.”

“You’re a monster,” I told her.

“An abomination. I believe that’s the preferred term.”

I flinched. She smiled again.

“I see you’ve run into it.”

“I can’t believe you did that.”

“I would do it again.”

“What?”

“Look how wonderful it turned out. James made not one but three—three!—children. All of them Primes. He did so well. House Tremaine will go on. All I have to do is convince you to see things my way. And we’ve just established that I can be very convincing. What will it take, Nevada?”

“The answer is still no.”

“You will do as I say.” The power of her magic clamped me. I shrugged it off.

“No, I won’t.”

Victoria laughed. She actually laughed. “You’re everything I ever wanted.”

My phone chimed. I checked it. A text from Bern. Get out of there.

I jumped to my feet.

Five men walked into the restaurant, guns drawn. “On the floor,” the lead one ordered. The hostess dropped down. On my left, the two chefs behind the sushi bar hit the floor.

“Hands where I can see them,” the leader ordered.

They hadn’t fired, so they wanted me alive. I held my hands up and glared at Victoria. “Really?”

She was looking past me at the men. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Alexander says he’s sorry,” the lead man said. “He needs the girl. This is for the cause. He said you would understand.”

“Oh no, my dears,” my grandmother said. “This isn’t about the cause. This is about family.”

Magic snapped out of her. When I clamped people with my will, my magic turned into a vise, a net that smothered and bound them. Victoria turned hers into a blade and stabbed the leader with it. He cried out, a weak fading sound, his eyes rolled back into his skull, and he collapsed.

I jerked my Baby Desert Eagle out.

In the same instant, the man to the left of the leader yelped and clawed at his eyes. The man on the right fell to his knees and hit his head on the floor.

I got off four shots before I realized the two remaining targets stood completely still. My bullets ripped into their chests. Slowly, they toppled over. Five dead bodies lay on the floor. There was nobody left to kill.

Someone shoved me from behind. I stumbled forward. The sound of shattering glass cut at my ears, impossibly loud. I swung right, toward the broken window. A man stood with his rifle up, taking another shot. A Ford Explorer exploded out of the parking lot and smashed into him. The shooter went down, a rag doll under the wheels. Bern drove over him, his face bloodless, reversed and backed over the body.

I turned to Victoria. A dark wet stain spread through Victoria’s shoulder. She’d pushed me out of the way. The bullet with my name on it had torn into her instead.

“You need an ambulance.”

She grimaced. “I’ll be fine. I have a private physician.”

“You’ll bleed out. You need paramedics now.” I grabbed my phone to dial 911. “Why did you do it?”