by Mark Henwick
“What about the Midnight Empire?” I countered. The old Athanate group had approximated to the old British Empire. They’d lost the Indian subcontinent, Australasia, and more recently Canada, all to Panethus. Did that mean there was a bias toward Panethus in the remainder? “Why are they not declaring a side?”
Tarez pursed his mouth.
“They’re in a difficult position. We suspect that they’re about to lose another slice of their old empire.”
“Ireland?” Prowser guessed, and Tarez nodded.
“Once they’re done with that,” he said, “they’ll join Panethus. But it isn’t enough, not against the weight of the Empire of Heaven. If Huang were to remain neutral, however…”
But no one knew what Huang might do. Angel stakes.
Skylur brought the speculation to an end. “Enough of intractable politics for now. Elizabetta, I believe you have a report for me.”
Chapter 48
Elizabetta glanced at Prowser, but Skylur waved her hesitation away. They might have differences of opinion on some matters, but it was becoming clear that Skylur trusted Prowser.
With that as clearance, Elizabetta didn’t delay the worst part of the news. “I may not be able to continue operating effectively in gathering information from the Major Crime department.”
Tarez raised his brows. “We’re aware that this task is distasteful…”
“It’s not that,” she said.
“It’s partly my fault,” I put in. “I asked Elizabetta to find some additional information. I put pressure on her.”
She flashed a grateful smile at me before turning back to Skylur. “That contributed to the problem, but it’s not the main issue.”
“What then?” Skylur said.
“A combination of things. The turning point was a couple of days ago. I was briefing Amber and Yelena just before I was due to meet Jefferson. He came early, caught them just about to leave, and he was curious about them. Curious enough to access government data files—”
“And the files are suspiciously empty on Amber and Yelena, and sketchy on you,” Tarez finished. “Clumsy, kin-Sherman, very clumsy.”
Elizabetta nodded. “On the other hand, as far as I can tell, he and his department still have no suspicions at present about the Athanate or the meetings we’re holding here.”
“This information Amber was requesting,” Tarez went on, “it was to do with that animal Forsythe?”
Naturally, Skylur and Tarez knew all the details from my treatment with Diana.
We all went through what we’d found so far, while the rest of them looked increasingly grim.
Elizabetta also added something that she hadn’t mentioned in the van. Forsythe’s new show, Tomorrow’s Faces, was in production, and Elizabetta had unearthed a rumor that the front runner was a girl called Tamanny Harper. She and her mother were doing promotions and negotiating modeling contracts.
Elizabetta had a hunch there’d be something to find by talking to them.
During our report, Prowser had looked shocked, and then frowned thoughtfully. She bowed her head over her tablet and typed rapidly, but I could see she’d kept listening.
As Elizabetta finished, Prowser looked up.
“You realize where this case falls in this morning’s discussion on legal structures?” she said to me.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
Skylur stirred, but didn’t interrupt.
“House Altau proposes we amend some of our laws to resemble human laws, to assist Emergence. House Correia maintains that we need to change nothing, because if humanity ever discovers us, it will be too late for them and we’ll be in control. I’m in the strange position of supporting Emergence, but keeping our laws intact. I agree with Huang’s speech this morning, full of emotion or not.”
She stood and stepped toward me like a stalking cat.
“Now, I don’t know the background to this, or why you’re investigating it. But it seems it has to be that this animal, Forsythe, has touched on your House in some way.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Or you, yourself.”
I blanked my mind and nodded.
“Skylur’s official view would be that your investigation should find evidence and hand it to the human authorities.”
No. I understood the point, but I couldn’t stop my gut-level reaction against it.
“My view would be that you should have the choice and be able to deal with him whichever way you chose.” She stopped right in front of me. “What do you say?”
“My…situation shouldn’t influence a decision that might affect Emergence.” I tasted bile as I said it. I wanted to kill Forsythe, kill him slowly. Not just for me, I said silently. For everyone whose lives he’d ruined. I swallowed and went on as calmly as I could. “However evil he is, Forsythe isn’t as important as the future of all paranormals in human society.”
“Not even to you personally?”
Prowser wasn’t fooled. She could sense the anger inside me, the conflict. Because whatever lies I told myself, killing him slowly was pure revenge. Enjoying the thought of his death was nothing to do with saving others, or punishment for other injury.
“I can see this is personal,” she said. “This is something to do with the therapy that had you locked away from us for a month? And yet, you say you choose human law. With its statute of limitations? Believability of witnesses? You want that? Appeals, technicalities, doubt cast on evidence? Psychiatric evaluations? Early release? That?”
Her eyes glittered like a snake’s.
My whole body felt as if it were humming. I could feel Yelena’s eukori desperately trying to soothe me, but Prowser was older, stronger. She didn’t attack; she merely deflected Yelena.
“That, instead of Athanate law,” she hissed. “Where, if eukori can’t tell us, we can get Adepts who can. Humans have to have legal safeguards because they can never truly know. But we can. And if we know the absolute truth, the punishment can fit the crime. Or prevent it. The one death that could save dozens. Total, unquestionable justice. Yet you would still choose human law?”
My tongue and lips were heavy, my jaw trembling.
Kill him. Kill him. Kill him.
“I. Support. Skylur. Leadership.” Every word was an effort.
Skylur put a hand on her shoulder. The barrier around my mind lifted and Yelena’s eukori rushed in.
“I commend you on the steadfast loyalty of your House,” Prowser said to Skylur as she returned to her seat and her tablet. “I warn you, if you make this issue of laws a pillar of Emergence, you will lose the support of the party. And you’ve now got to think even harder about how to wrap this up before Christmas.”
Skylur returned to his seat as well.
“Yes, it would be suspicious for us to be here through the holidays. Do you think we have enough time?”
“We’ll have to wait and see what response comes back to the representatives,” Tarez said.
Prowser began tapping out messages on her tablet again.
Skylur was steepling his fingers again. “Well, as I have you here, Amber, what of your progress with filling your House with kin rather than a collection of humans?”
I took a deep breath. “We’ve made progress. Your specific concern with Dominé, for instance. That involved her assistant from the club, Dante, as well.”
Yes, Dante, my House. In danger.
Along with that, I was avoiding thinking of the full list of those I hadn’t bitten yet.
No time!
It was important. I couldn’t set up a conveyor belt. Julie, Keith, Colonel Laine, just for starters.
Tarez raised an eyebrow, sensing some of my turmoil, but mistaking its source. “Whose kin are Dominé and Dante?” he asked.
“Katikia,” Yelena said.
That caught Prowser’s attention. She looked up from her tablet. “House kin. How very Carpathian of you. Fascinating.”
“The Midnight Empire has similar arrangements,�
� Yelena said.
Prowser pinned her with a look of steel. “I am very well aware of how British Houses are structured, Diakon Vylkove. I believe you’re stretching a point.”
Her attention returned to her tablet.
“There are more, of course,” I said, digging for information. “Tullah, for one. But she’s not available.”
Skylur didn’t want to discuss her. “Adepts.” He shook his head. “Entirely separate conversation.”
He glanced at Prowser. “I believe, Amelie, that if you want to indicate emphasis, you use capital letters. I don’t think tapping the screen harder has any effect on electronic communications.”
Prowser swiped the screen clear and took a slow breath.
“This information on trafficking gave me an idea,” she said. “There’s been a legal case in the courts recently about this that has involved my mantle.”
The wording threw me for a second. Her domain was Michigan. Mantle was generally used for the part of the domain where she lived and the immediate area, but I’d heard her mansion was as far away from everybody as possible, somewhere up where the Keweenaw Peninsula stuck out into Lake Superior. I doubted there were any relevant court cases there. But mantle sometimes meant her House in the broader sense, all the Athanate and kin and Aspirants and sub-Houses and where they lived too.
She confirmed it. “A sub-House has been involved in a case in Detroit. A criminal has been jailed. However, I find that my Diakon has not dealt with this to my satisfaction.” She shrugged. “Nevertheless, it may be I will receive some information today that may be of use to you.”
She looked thoughtful. “Meanwhile, these girls they traffic into the country…there are a lot that come in from the Far East. This is all unacceptable, to the Empire as well. I’ll talk to Huang.”
That might distract him for a while.
I guessed this effort from Prowser was her apology for being conned into taking part in Ibarre’s sucker punch at the nomicane. Whatever, I’d be grateful for any scrap of information that would help.
Skylur waved us away. “Go. Talk to your young TV star, and report back tomorrow.”
We emerged into the cold, bright morning. The same city sounds surrounded us, louder and more insistent. Cars, people, horns and sirens.
“This is going to take forever,” one of the security team said. “Traffic is hell. Christmas shopping.”
I looked up into the sky. Another helicopter passed not far away. We had to be on some kind of route here.
“Maybe I can persuade Jen to post Victor down here with the Kingslund Group helicopter,” I said. My own angel to look out for me while we all played for stakes we didn’t understand.
“Good idea. Who knows when we might need it,” Yelena agreed. She took out her cell and started typing.
“Yeah. Anyway, you, get a cab. Home, sleep.” I gave her a shove. “You were flying us back last night and I need you alert. I think Altau security can just about manage to escort us downtown and back to interview a teenager.”
Chapter 49
Tomorrow’s Faces had booked Tamanny and her mother into a flash downtown hotel. The rumors that Tamanny was going to be the winner seemed well-founded.
There was a minor delay at the front desk, but Elizabetta had created some fake journalist IDs which fooled the hotel staff.
On top of that, we caught a break: Mrs. Harper had gone out. Tamanny was alone in the suite and she answered the door to our knock.
“Hi, Tamanny.” Elizabetta switched on a megawatt smile. “I’m Liz and this is Amber. We’re from LA Scene News.”
“Oh hi!” she said. “Err…awesome!”
“The agent got through to you about this?” Elizabetta said, meaning of course she had and everything was on the level.
“Ah, I’m not sure.” Tamanny’s eyes widened and she looked around as if someone might overhear us. “This is, like, an interview?”
“Not so formal. We’re really just scoping background, which will mean when you do the real interviews, they can focus on the essential parts and then we’ll just drop in context as necessary.”
“Okay, I guess. But I’m not supposed to talk to you without Mom or someone from the show. Mom’s out.”
By this time, we were inside the suite.
“No problem.” Elizabetta waved a dismissive hand. “We’ll do the business when she gets here. Let me say, it’ll be really quick and easy as well. No tricky questions. No recordings.” Elizabetta was good at this. Tamanny’s anxiety was already easing off. “So, let’s just chill for the moment.”
“Great! Yeah. Y’know, this place is amazing! You wanna see the pool? Up on the 26th? We could sit out there. It’s got like this great view of the city? They had a hot DJ up there last night. It was awesome!”
“It might be a bit chilly today,” Elizabetta said.
“Oh. Yeah, didn’t think of that.” Tamanny’s face fell dramatically. “People keep telling me, I don’t think things through enough.”
Ease up on yourself, girl, I wanted to say. The kid was setting impossible targets for herself: trying to live life at a hundred miles an hour, be cool, not try hard and never say anything dumb.
Elizabetta caught it. “No, what the hell,” she said. “It’s a great idea. Let’s do it. We’ve got coats. Grab yourself something warm. Let’s see the sights while we wait.”
It would also mean that we might have a couple more minutes while Mrs. Harper tracked us down. Good thinking.
Tamanny got a bulky coat and we headed up in the elevator.
She was beautiful. It wasn’t makeup or clothes or hairdo—apart from a pair of swanky shoes, she was dressed down and her light brown hair was caught in a simple ponytail. No, it was her bone structure and her fresh skin, her huge eyes with their innocent intensity and her simple, uncomplicated enjoyment.
Fourteen! What a stunner she’d be in a few years’ time.
So long as I could keep Forsythe away from her.
I’d come here wanting to dislike her. I wanted to see her as a fame-hungry, spoiled brat and I found I couldn’t; she wasn’t what I’d expected at all. I liked her.
Still, I let Elizabetta do the talking; she had the knack and Tamanny had relaxed with her. Instead, I watched and tried to fire up my erratic eukori. Even without the benefit of telergy, I could sense enough to make me worried.
Tamanny wasn’t stupid any more than she was a spoiled brat. Mrs. Harper had brought up a wonderful person who was going to blossom into an amazing young woman. I was actually looking forward to meeting her mother.
But Tamanny was layered like an onion.
That cool surface: schooled into her. The what’s-my-best-side, how-should-I-look armor that grew on actors.
Beneath that, the kid who just wanted to jump and scream oh, my God, this is all so cool.
And deeper, hidden beneath that: fear.
Almost anyone, young or old, who gets catapulted into the limelight has doubts and insecurities.
Do I deserve this?
What if they really knew me?
What if they’re all just telling me I’m good?
Tamanny had all of those; I’d have been amazed if she didn’t, but they weren’t the only reading I was getting from her.
Why was I getting such a bad subterranean vibe from Tamanny?
My wolf was inhaling her scent. It wasn’t a scent of fear or terror that was reaching me. It was the scent of a long-term anxiety. As if her gut was warning her that she was in a bad place. That she had no way out. A cold, relentless feeling, like the tail end of some nightmare, coiling around her body. The feeling that those coils might crush her at any minute.
What would her eukori tell me if I could just tease it out?
But apart from a flickering confirmation of what my wolf nose was saying, I couldn’t seem to get a grip on my eukori. I couldn’t direct it.
And without it, all my suspicions were as likely to be my own delusions as actual problems.
&nbs
p; Without wishing anything bad for Tamanny, I wanted there to be something going on that I could use to catch Forsythe.
Not the right mindset to have.
“We went to the Cicada last night? You know, they filmed that scene from Pretty Woman there,” Tamanny bubbled. “What do you think of Julia? Isn’t she awesome?”
Worrying about my mindset wasn’t making firing up my eukori any easier.
As we got out on the 26th floor, Elizabetta was steering the conversation towards the dangers of the industry for young girls.
“Oh, God, yeah! Some of them are so gross,” Tamanny said. She giggled and rolled her eyes. “I tell my friends the guys have way heavy eyes.”
When she spoke of her friends, her face lit up.
“How so?” Elizabetta said.
“Like their eyes are so heavy, they can’t lift them high enough to look girls in the face.”
We laughed, but my gut feeling was getting sicker by the minute.
It was cold on the deck. Still, last night’s winds had cleared the air, and the view was sparkling. And the view of downtown was great.
“And they’re all so touchy,” Tamanny went on as we took in the sight. “Pat my head, pat my shoulder. Pat, pat, pat, like I’m a fu—, ahh, I mean like I’m a dog. Y’know, some of the creepiest ones even pat my bottom.”
“What does your mom say about this?”
Tamanny suddenly stopped, and we lost valuable minutes while Elizabetta reassured her this was just chatting and nothing to do with the interview; that we’d never consider printing something she’d said to us in confidence.
We were losing her.
I got a little closer and tried concentrating on soothing thoughts. Someone like Diana had a level of control over their Athanate glands that she could produce calming pheromones on demand. I didn’t have that. I tended to put out what Jen called happy-time pheromones when I was with my kin and House. Doing it now was much harder.
My eukori spluttered and fizzed as well. I was being about as much use as nipples on a man.
“Mr. Forsythe isn’t like that, though?” I said. “Not the creepy things with the eyes and hands?”
