Richelle Mead - Gameboard of the Gods

“What else could it be?” asked Leo. If he’d had any doubts about taking this on, they’d vanished. He was hooked.

“That’s for your brilliant mind to uncover. Mine’s going to work on the rest of this mess.”

He left Leo all the other information on the case, as well as a warning to protect the camera and original footage. “It’s my ass if something happens to it. You’re lucky I trust you, or I’d never leave it with someone unauthorized.”

Leo grinned. “That’s the nice thing about living in the wilderness. No one’s going to come snooping around.”

On the train ride back, Tessa surprised Justin by telling him how she and Dominic had apparently become best friends while everyone else was in the lab.

“He’s not bad at all once you talk to him,” she said. “He’s a Gemman citizen but was raised in one of the provinces, so he kind of understood what I’m going through.”

Dominic was partially provincial? That explained a lot. “I’m just glad he doesn’t seem to ever leave that house,” Justin noted. “He’d probably hunt me down otherwise, and who knows if my gallant protection would come through.”

Mae, who’d been gazing out the window, glanced back. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you didn’t do anything when my sister tried to knock me out.”

“You’re still alive, aren’t you?” She returned to the window.

Tessa had tried a glass of the wine, and it had made her sleepy. She opened her eyes and turned toward Justin. “Dominic wasn’t unfriendly when we first got there. He was just shy. Or, well, socially awkward, I guess. He didn’t get unfriendly until you told him Mae was a prætorian.”

Justin thought back on the afternoon. “No, Dominic had it in for me from the moment I walked in the door. You heard what Leo said—he’d told him all about me.”

Tessa shook her head. “You’re wrong.” Yes, Tessa was definitely getting more defiant.

Because she contradicts you? scoffed Horatio. Such audacity!

“Hey, I’m the master here,” Justin told her. “You’re the apprentice.”

“The master was too appalled to be out in the ‘wilderness’ to notice,” Tessa retorted. “I’m telling you, I’m right.”

“Next time I’m leaving you home,” he said, wondering if he really was slipping.

Although meeting Justin’s alleged technical genius had been interesting, Mae was eager to get to the heart of this mission they’d been assigned. She craved action, and even if this wasn’t a typical prætorian assignment, there was still justice to be served for the greater good of her country. She didn’t entirely know what Justin’s methods were, save that they would eventually be investigating suspect and possibly dangerous groups. That sounded promising.

Her disdain for Justin hadn’t changed. It was obvious to her he was high each morning, and she had no respect for anyone with that kind of dependence. His dependence on women was equally obvious. Women noticed him, and he noticed women. A few witty words…and they were hooked, freely giving away numbers and promises of future dates. It constantly reminded Mae of her own foolishness.

And yet, despite his bad habits, he’d occasionally show those flashes of brilliance that Francis had lauded. Justin latched on to small details, able to make astonishing deductions she never could’ve fathomed. His dedication to their case was fierce, and when he spoke of it and explained the psychology of religious groups to her, she couldn’t help but be fascinated.

The final piece puzzling her was his unfailing devotion to Tessa and his family. Sure, sarcasm ran rampant in that household, but there was no question of his protectiveness toward them. It contradicted Mae’s image of his selfishness, and she didn’t like contradictions.

Their first few days of investigation took them to the crime scenes on the patrician land grants, something that seemed more like police than servitor work. It mostly involved interviews with the victims’ friends and families, giving Mae another opportunity to watch him manipulate people. He didn’t approach anyone with a cop’s interrogation style. He engaged them in conversation, winning them over and then very carefully studying their words and body language.

“It’s not hard,” he’d told Mae. “You find what means the most to someone and run with it.”

That had come after an interview with a Lakota castal who’d initially been hostile to Justin. Upon noting the man had four children—a rarity among the fertility-challenged castes—Justin had shifted the discussion toward them, playing on the man’s obvious pride. The man had been heavily marked by Cain, with asthma and skin lesions, but he’d lucked out with his deceased wife. She’d been extraordinarily beautiful and healthy, with no problems conceiving. By the time Justin was finished with him, they were practically best friends, and Justin knew all about the kids’ soccer and dance lessons. The family had no connection to a religion, and Justin also determined that the man was telling the truth about not being involved with his wife’s murder. Justin had similar results with other castal interviewees and their claims of innocence.

After three of the crime scenes, he told her they were putting the other two on hold until Leo could come along with them. The people they talked to weren’t giving them any leads; they needed to examine the technical side for new evidence. Although Leo had made no progress on the video, Justin was certain his friend could figure out how the victims’ surveillance had been disabled. Leo couldn’t join them right away, meaning it was time to start checking out suspect religious groups, something Mae had been looking forward to.

They left Vancouver for an overnight trip to the Midwest, to visit a group whose goddess had connections to the moon and silver. Before they went to that church, however, Justin made a side trip to another sect in the same town.

“Favor to Cornelia,” he explained when their hired car dropped them off. “Right around the corner from our church. It’s just a standard license renewal—should be a breeze. They’re a pretty small and benign group. Still, you’ll get to see that this job isn’t all glamour and stone-wielding mobs.”

They stood outside of a small but pretty building that had all sorts of flourishes. Arched stained glass windows. Gold-painted trim around the windows and doors. Lacy wooden embellishment along the gables. An ornate sign above the door read TEMPLE OF THE LADY OF THE BOOK, MADISON BLUFF, TWENTY-FIRST WARD.

Justin came to a stop on the sidewalk leading up to it and gave the building a once-over. “Well maintained,” he said with a frown. “Much better than their last inspection. Good maintenance means money. Money means support.”

The door opened as they approached, and a middle-aged plebeian man with thinning hair stepped outside. He looked nervous but gave them a polite smile. “Welcome. I’m Claude Diaz, the priest of Our Lady here. You must be Dr. March?”

“Yes.” Justin introduced Mae and then waved his ego over the license beside the door. The square’s screen displayed the RUNA’s seal in green, along with a date and scrawled signature below it. When the ego passed over the screen, a holographic image of the seal appeared in the air, verifying the temple’s license.

Claude urged them inside. “Please come in. I’m so eager for you to see our sacred space and answer any questions you might have.”

Mae hadn’t been in very many places of worship. She’d been to Church of Humanity services, of course, but those didn’t count. Every once in a while, someone in the Nordic caste would try to bring back a Scandinavian religion. Those that didn’t fail right away usually only lingered on with scant numbers. Mae’s mother had once taken her to a temple when visiting a friend in the Pan-Celt land grant, and Mae remembered it being a terrifying experience for her six-year-old self. The chanting priests had worn hoods and masks, and images of their fearsome goddess had seemed to look at Mae from every part of the room. She didn’t remember the cult’s name but hoped it had been shut down by now.