Poison Tree (19 page)

She didn’t completely discount the possibility. There were plenty of reasons why a member of Bruja might look younger than he was, and the operator’s lack of respect for Christian made it easy to believe he had never bothered to introduce himself to the guild’s new leader.

Alysia waited by the board until it turned itself off due to lack of activity. Either the operator had wandered off, or he just wasn’t inclined to confirm or deny his identity.

It was a mystery that had to wait for another day. She had other work to do, starting with a phone call she really didn’t want to make.

She stepped into one of the upstairs bedrooms and closed
the door behind her before she took out her cell phone and dialed a number she had recently memorized. Like most of the rooms in the house, this one was soundproof, so she had no fear that other members might overhear her.

A wary voice answered. “Hello?”

“Jason? This is Alysia. I—”

He interrupted her with a rush of questions. “Alysia! Are you okay? Is Sarik—Sahara—okay? Do you need anything?”

Relief and guilt washed over her, freeing an inappropriate giggle from her throat. “I’m more or less okay, and as far as I know, Sahara is, too,” she answered. “She’s back at Onyx.”
With Christian
. Jason didn’t need to know that part. “I had no idea who she was, but her father apparently decided I did. He’s the one who put out the contract to kidnap me, to try to find her. Now that we’re both gone, he shouldn’t have any more reason to harass SingleEarth.”

Jason let out a slow breath, an odd self-calming habit for a vampire. “I know we all kept saying we didn’t want to force a direct confrontation between SingleEarth and Bruja. None of us realized we were saying we wouldn’t protect you. If you want to come back—”

“I don’t know what I want right now,” Alysia interrupted. “And I don’t know what Sahara wants,” she added, since she suspected that was really what Jason wanted to know. “I actually have a question for you. An awkward one, but it’s eating at me.”

“Go ahead.”

“You used to work for Maya, right?”

Silence. Alysia remembered what Jason had said when
she had first asked if anyone at Haven #4 knew of Onyx. She remembered his tone when he referred to the woman he “worked for.”

Eventually, he replied, “Yes.”

“Do you know anything about a painting she received? Small, magical, metal and stone accents. If I’m right about my time lines, it would have been around the time you and Saha—Sarik hooked up, but I’m not sure if it was before or after.”

They both kept tripping over that name. Who
was
the tiger these days? If she had gone back to Onyx just to protect SingleEarth, then did she need rescuing? Or did she have her own plan? Was Christian in on it? What the hell was going on?

“I remember it,” Jason replied, his voice sounding very quiet and far away. “The magic has something to do with how the body feels pain, how it processes it and responds to it.” That explained why Kral kept the thing in his torture chamber. Jason added, “Maya received it as payment for the last job I was ever involved in.”

“What was the job?”

And if it went to Maya, why does Kral have it now?

C
HRISTIAN GRABBED
K
EVIN’S
arm before the human could sneak away, and hissed, “If you
ever
go to my home again, I will end you. Do you believe me?”

Kevin nodded, but protested, “But Kral—”

“I don’t care who your boss is,” Christian snarled. “You crossed a line. Cross it again and I can do worse to you than Kral ever could.”

Sarik listened to the threats and felt a pit open in her stomach. She was back in a world where one’s threat meant everything. If Kevin believed Christian, then the balance of power would shift a little. If he didn’t, if he thought Christian’s threat didn’t have teeth, then he would see the words as an idle bluff.

“Do you know,” she said to Christian, though he was too busy watching Kevin slink off into the darkness to care, “I sat at the mediator’s table at SingleEarth Haven Number Four for almost a year. I counseled a survivor of foster-care child abuse who killed her parents the first time she shapeshifted.” She shuddered, recalling that poor child’s guilt, anger, terror, and grief. “I worked with a twenty-year-old human-born Pakana who had been institutionalized since he was eleven, who had blinded himself in his madness four years before, and when he changed shape for the first time, it healed his sight. I have talked people down from bridges and back from windows, found appropriate guardians for orphaned shapeshifter children, negotiated with lawyers and police and the royal houses of every remaining shapeshifter kingdom except the Mistari Disa herself.”

She hadn’t thought Christian was listening, until he said, “And then you shot your boyfriend and ran away.”

“I didn’t …”

Christian shrugged. “I’m Bruja, darling. I’m the last person to criticize you for looking out for yourself first and screw the rest of the world. Just tell me: if you were so happy being
that
person, then what the hell are you doing here?” He looked at the two cubs, who were watching the discussion with deferential curiosity, probably trying to make sense of the power dynamics. “And why did you bring
them
?”

“You know what my father would do if I went back and SingleEarth tried to protect me,” she replied.

“Personally, I wouldn’t want to cross SingleEarth,” Christian replied. “They don’t have a lot of force on their side, but
their political power either already does or will soon rival Bruja’s.”

“That’s impossible.”

Christian shook his head. “The old leaders, including Kral, pushed hard to keep Bruja ‘true to its roots.’ Which means they passed up a lot of opportunities.”

“Alysia?” Jeht said, his voice breaking into their conversation.

“What?”

“Don’t mind me.” The human’s voice came from the shadows nearby. Sarik hadn’t been paying attention to anyone around them, and neither, apparently, had Christian, but Jeht must have scented her and recalled her from SingleEarth.

“Alysia, what are you
doing
here?” Sarik asked, now stretching her awareness to her surroundings. She didn’t think anyone else was near enough to overhear if they kept their voices down.

“Eavesdropping,” Alysia answered. “I should have guessed you shot Jason, Ben, and Israel.” Alysia’s voice dripped with all the disdain Sarik had expected.

She protested, “You don’t understand.”

“
What
don’t I understand?” Alysia replied. “You shot your
boyfriend
in what I assume was an attempt to frame me. What the hell was going through your furry brain?”

“Alysia,” Christian said, stepping between the two women, “now might not be the best time to—”

“No,” Sarik interrupted, “now’s good.”

“Are you in danger?” Jeht asked, his voice pitched just for Sarik.

“I hope not,” she replied, in his language, before speaking quickly to Alysia. “I knew you were from Bruja, all right?” she hissed. “Your file looked suspicious enough that when you moved in, I searched your belongings. What would you have thought if you were at SingleEarth and you suddenly found third-rank weapons from Crimson, Onyx,
and
Frost? I’ve never even heard of anyone that highly ranked in more than one guild, much less three.”

“I would have assumed someone like that was at SingleEarth to mess someone up,” Alysia answered. “If I had your history, I probably would have jumped to the conclusion that any merc might be there for
me
. I’m just missing how it’s a logical next step to shoot your boyfriend.”

“I
panicked
, okay?” Sarik snapped. “I had you in my sights, but then I couldn’t go through with the kill. I thought I could frame you, or scare you off, or all sorts of stupid things. I shot at people I could barely see because it was easier than killing someone I could put a name and a face to. I thought you would run once you realized you were being targeted, or that if you turned to fight, someone like Lynzi would take you down. The last thing I expected was for you to jump forward to protect people.” Softly, she added, “I didn’t
know
you. How could I? You’re not like any member of Bruja I ever knew.”

“Fair point,” Christian observed, breaking into the conversation.

“You understand you acted like a complete idiot?” Alysia asked Sarik.

Sarik nodded. “I hear you bring that out in people.”
Christian snickered, and Sarik glared at him before asking Alysia, “Why is my father so afraid of you?”

Alysia shrugged. “He’s afraid of a lot of things.”

Kral had terrorized almost everyone around him for centuries, but for some reason, Alysia had him scared. “He offered two million dollars two years ago to get rid of you,” Sarik pointed out.

“Very flattering,” Alysia replied, “but I didn’t do anything you don’t know about. Kral’s a few hundred years old, and he has some gray hairs hiding under the Clairol for Men. The world moves on, but he won’t. He’s afraid of the modern world. He’s afraid of technology. And more than anything, he’s afraid of getting old and seeing someone younger—especially someone human—take what he built and change it from his image. He focused on me because I showed up when you disappeared. I’m the peppy human girl who replaced his carefully groomed, perfect heir. But the reality is, if it’s not me, it’s just going to be someone else.” She looked around to where movement in the shadows made it clear that some of the novices were getting brave enough to creep closer, trying to overhear their conversation. “Can I talk to you two somewhere a bit more private?”

“Sure,” Christian said.

“We can talk in my room,” Sarik said, feeling much the way she had when Alysia had first interviewed at SingleEarth: as if the following conversation might change her entire world.

Hopefully I can handle things better this time
, she thought, before saying to Jeht, “I know you don’t understand what’s going on. Don’t jump to any conclusions.”

“I’m not objecting,” Christian said, “but just so everyone is aware, Kral may go insane if he hears that the three of us ducked into Sahara’s room together and one of us didn’t come out a corpse.”

“If you take Quean with you, I’ll guard the door,” Jeht said, guessing correctly that they wanted their conversation private.

“Don’t fight anyone who comes up,” Sarik told him. “Just knock.”

Jeht nodded. She had never intended to let him
actually
fill his role as her guard, but here she was, with a nine-year-old standing watch while she led the others inside and shut and locked the door. Quean sat in the corner, watching but instinctively staying out of the way. Alysia dropped the bag she had been carrying onto the bed and opened the top to reveal a small, familiar work of art.

The piece was ten inches square, painted, with an addition of silver leaf and finely embroidered threads Sarik happened to know were pure gold firestone. The frame was a combination of ebony wood and platinum designs she couldn’t make sense of because her eyes hurt when she looked at them. The gemstones set into the piece were not firestone, but rather a red diamond, a scarlet emerald, and then lines of black opal.

She was familiar with the work, of course, because it belonged to her father. It normally hung in his office or his interrogation room.

“How did you get that?” she asked.

“Broke into the greenroom and picked it up,” Alysia
answered blithely. “His entire security system consists of a guy named Kevin.”

“The rest of his security system relies on the fact that most people in Onyx are not stupid enough to steal from him,” Christian pointed out. “I’m assuming you have good reason to flash it in front of his daughter.”

“Tell me, what’s this thing valued at?”

“The gems alone could be sold for over a million,” Christian answered promptly, “but you can’t peel them off without breaking the spell first, and it was beyond my abilities the last time I tried.” At Sarik’s shocked look, he added, “I’m not dumb enough to try to sell the whole piece. It’s too recognizable. The stones alone could be sold to any human jeweler who wasn’t too particular about asking their history.”

“Seven years ago, I bought a piece of gold firestone thread just about half a yard long from Pandora for fifteen thousand dollars,” Sarik volunteered, resigned. “That was with her ‘Onyx discount.’ It’s unbreakable, fine enough and light enough to fold anywhere, can be woven into a piece of rope to make bonds even a vampire can’t escape, and can be made into a garrote that will kill almost anything instantly. And Pandora is the only Triste I know who makes it, so it’s something of a seller’s market.”

“Any thoughts?” Alysia asked, handing it to Christian.

“Sure,” he answered. He took the painting but then set it in his lap instead of looking at it. “My thought is, you have a good reason to ask. So share.”

“There’s a contract up in Frost,” Alysia explained, “offering five K for this thing. When I read the offer, I vaguely recalled
the painting, but I didn’t remember it well enough to know what it was made of, and the description just said things like ‘metal and wood frame’ and ‘red and black stones.’ But it matches perfectly.”

“Five thousand wouldn’t cover the risk of walking in to pick it up,” Christian answered. “I’ve heard of clients trying to swindle mercs by offering a lower price than an item is worth, but any idiot can tell this is worth more than that.”

“Who was the client?” Sahara asked. “Maybe he just wanted to bring my father down a notch by having it stolen and doesn’t actually care if you turn around and sell it.”

“Maybe,” Alysia said, “but then there’s the question of where it’s been. The item history on the number said Kral lost it in a bet with Maya, but I spoke to—” She hesitated. “I confirmed that it was in fact in Maya’s possession briefly, six years ago.”

“Kral lost a multimillion-dollar ritual item in a bet with a mercenary?” Christian scoffed. “Not likely. That painting has been around since we were … what, five or six?” he asked, turning to Sarik. She nodded. “And I would have noticed if it hadn’t been back in his office the next time I saw him after that job, which was … oh, two days later, something like that.”