Илона Эндрюс - Emerald Blaze (Hidden Legacy)

“Felix Morton ran into me at the last Assembly session,” Linus said finally. “Quite literally. He collided with me in the elevator, apologized, then told me that ‘it’s been ages since we last talked.’ I found it curious, because we’d never spoken. Also because he passed me this envelope.”

Linus took out a white envelope from his desk drawer and slid it toward me across the desk.

I picked it up. A plain unmarked envelope, generic, the kind you can buy in any office store. It was unsealed. I opened it and pulled out a photograph. A shot of the swamp, probably the Pit, taken early in the morning or late in the evening. The photographer must have been aiming at the derelict building on the other side of the bog—it was in focus—and if I hadn’t looked closely, I would have missed it. Two spinning rings, half-submerged and churning water about ten feet from the shore, with a blue light glowing under the surface.

The hair on the back of my neck rose.

I flipped the photograph. On the back in a hurried cursive someone had written “Jane Saurage, my appraiser, disappeared in the Pit 07/09. This was the last image uploaded to her cloud. I need to speak with you ASAP.”

Alessandro held out his hand for the envelope.

I put the picture on the desk instead and tapped the spinning rings. “One of these controlled the creatures that attacked us.”

“I now have one in my basement.” Linus frowned. “And I have no idea how it was made. It’s biomechanical in nature, but on a level I don’t understand. I have an expert coming, but it may take some time.”

Alessandro rose, picked up the envelope and the photograph, and sat back in his chair.

Linus continued. “Four hours after he handed this to me, Felix was murdered in the Pit. His body wasn’t found until the next morning. Do you remember Agent Wahl?”

“Yes.” I tried to keep a groan from my voice and failed.

Agent Wahl had spearheaded an investigation into the trafficking of the magic-warped—people so transformed by magic, they were no longer human. Some of them had come from the Diatheke’s assassin lab which Linus, Alessandro, and our family had destroyed. I had taken that case away from Agent Wahl at Linus’ direction and his wail of outrage could have been heard all the way in Amarillo. He made it plain that he didn’t respect me, didn’t recognize my authority, and generally felt that a two-year-old could have done a much better job in my place. He had to cooperate with me, but he spent the entire time convinced that I would screw everything up beyond all hope, so he’d bugged my car, tried to clone my phone, and had me tailed in case I failed and he would have to ride in on a white steed, or possibly a black SUV, to save the day.

“He came to see me today,” Linus said.

“Has his leg healed?”

“Yes, although he’s still using the cane. Apparently, Felix contacted him about some workers disappearing and mentioned 162AC.”

Shit.

“Agent Wahl, in a rare fit of common sense, gave your name, and mine, to Felix. He left town on assignment shortly after and didn’t return until this morning. He didn’t know if Felix got ahold of me, but once he learned about the funeral, he wanted to be sure.”

And of course, Wahl would have recognized the formula. When we pulled the corpses of the magic-warped people out of a mass grave, they had been tattooed with 164AC followed by the number of the serum variant. I didn’t know what Linus told him, but at some point, Agent Wahl stopped asking inconvenient questions.

“We were having our chat when a swarm of giant arcane snakes with moth wings attacked my home.”

Snakes with moth wings? “How did Agent Wahl take it?”

“Oh, he had a grand time. He also shared with me that any time the Office of the Warden becomes involved in something, the ‘world falls down.’ He finds this fact very exciting. Interesting fellow.”

Linus turned to Alessandro and made a your-turn gesture.

“Sixteen years ago, Arkan went private,” Alessandro said.

“That’s debatable,” Linus said, “but go on.”

“Right now, Arkan stays at his estate in Canada. I’ve secured means of surveilling him.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I have a personal interest in killing him.”

Ask a stupid question . . .

“When Arkan broke into the Northern Vault and stole the serum you’ve been trying to recover, he didn’t do it because someone paid him. He was the driving force behind the theft, but the operation was complex and expensive, and he did have investors. The serum was divided between the participants.”

“Was Diatheke one of these investors?” I asked.

“Diatheke was run by a board of shareholders,” Alessandro answered. “Arkan owned the controlling interest. It was his firm and Benedict De Lacy answered directly to him.”

The memory of Alessandro’s assassin database flashed before me. At the time I thought he was simply studying the competition. However, if Arkan was his target all along, the database took on a new meaning.

“Three days ago, one of these investors called him,” Alessandro said. “I don’t know who it was. I only heard his end of the conversation.”

“What was said?” Linus asked.

“The person on the other line had killed Felix Morton and panicked. They must’ve mentioned your name”—Alessandro looked at Linus—“because Arkan told them that he would handle Duncan and there was nothing to worry about.”

Linus raised his eyebrows. “Did he now?”

“He did.”

This lined up with Augustine’s theory that Felix’s killer was one of the board members. Only a well-connected, powerful Prime would be brazen enough to become involved in the theft of the Osiris serum.

“Arkan assured them that he would be sending help,” Alessandro continued. “After the conversation, he called in someone and instructed them to go to Houston. He mentioned you by name.” Alessandro nodded to Linus and turned to me. “And then he mentioned you. Arkan knows that Linus is the Warden and that you are his Deputy.”

Great.

“The plan is simple. Linus is too hard of a target. Killing a Warden would unleash a meteor shower, and Arkan wants to avoid the attention of the National Assembly. His people will go after you instead. You’re easier to kill. Arkan’s banking that once Linus discovers that his apprentice is in danger, he will move to protect you, all of which will disrupt the investigation. I don’t know if he’s buying time to clean it up or if his plans are more complex, but I know you’re his primary target.”

“Do you have any proof?” Linus asked.

Alessandro brushed a speck of lint off his knee. “Proof is your problem. I don’t plan on taking him to court. I know and that’s enough. I reached out to Lander Morton through an intermediary and offered my condolences. Lander is a vindictive old buzzard. The most important person in his life had just been murdered. I knew he would jump on the chance to get revenge. He hired me.”

“I imagine he’s paying quite well,” I said.

Alessandro didn’t rise to the bait. “Money is of no consequence. I’m here to make sure you don’t die.”

“I’m touched, Prime Sagredo, but your protection is not necessary.” Or welcome.

Alessandro turned to Linus. “The contract you had me sign has no expiration date. I’ll abide by its provisions. Let me keep her safe.”

Linus pondered it.

No. Absolutely not.

“Work with him,” Linus said.

The betrayal stung. I had three seconds to pick an emotion. I could storm off angry, which would be childish; I could refuse and show everyone just how deep Alessandro had hurt me; or I could swallow my feelings, act like it didn’t matter, and be professional about it.