Deadline

by Jennifer Blackstream

  “Is that where the book was?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  I took a step forward, then froze. Slowly, I glanced over my shoulder. Anton was standing outside the vault, still holding Peasblossom. But if he was out there…why did I feel like someone was breathing on my neck?

  My skin itched, every nerve hyperalert. With as much calm as I could muster, I looked around the vault, this time without the detection spell blinding me with magical auras. Something—or someone—was watching me.

  A section of the far-left wall drew me closer, instinct pushing me to see what was there. Energy tickled the edge of my consciousness as I studied the books before me. The writing was ancient Gaelic, but faded and hard to make out. Some of the books looked like they’d disintegrate if you touched them. I followed the shelf to a section covered in statues so real they could have been living creatures frozen in time. A large feline carved from shadow, a horse of pure jade, and a dragon that glittered with jewel-like scales, all of them etched with such detail I could almost imagine I saw them breathing.

  I was reaching for one of the statues before I realized it. I needed to touch it, make sure it was just a statue.

  “Do not touch anything.”

  I jerked my hand back and spun around. Anton had adjusted his position to keep me in his line of sight. His posture hadn’t changed, though I could have sworn his shoulders held a rigidity that hadn’t been there before. A faint red shine flashed across his eyes when he moved, then vanished. He looked like he wanted to say more. Like he was waiting for something to happen.

  I marched back to the drawer that had held the book, unwilling to look at him and that strange expression a second longer. With my back to the vampire, I reached into my pouch.

  It took me five minutes to find the fingerprint kit I needed, one of the downsides to having a bag that was bigger on the inside. Before finding it, I found more twisty ties and a phone book I’d been meaning to recycle for the last four months.

  “Only you and your family have access to these drawers?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  I dusted the Bi-Chromatic powder over the drawer, twirling the brush that looked like something you’d find in a makeup kit. “Never Isai?”

  I could practically hear his interest crackling behind me. “No. Why?”

  “So these drawers weren’t warded? They were locked with mundane means?”

  “Yes.”

  I sighed, replacing the brush and powder. The surfaces on and around the drawers revealed no prints, not even a smudge. The vampire had been right. There was nothing. “Are there any traps in this room?”

  “A handful of the drawers will trigger a trap. Something simple, since I was forced to build them myself, but suitably…effective.”

  I stepped away from the drawers. “Well, I think I’m done in here.”

  “And did you learn anything?”

  Again, I felt something watching me. Before I could think better of it, I blurted out, “Is there anything alive in there?”

  Anton was silent again, studying me. “Why?”

  “Please answer the question.” I could barely breathe. Adrenaline poured through my system, my nerves singing with that same awareness, the sensation that I was still being watched. I backed toward the vault entrance.

  “It is not relevant to the case,” Anton said finally. “Everything in there is as it was before the theft.”

  Then there was something alive in here.

  “I’ve seen enough, I think,” I said.

  Anton watched me closely as I half ran out of the vault. Again, he had the look of someone who wanted to say something, ask something.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” I demanded.

  My voice was louder than I’d intended. Peasblossom stared at me. For a second, she had the same look as Anton. That excited, expectant look. Then it was gone and her face pinched with impatience.

  “She’s out of the vault—now let me go!” she told Anton.

  Anton eyed the blue patch on his suit jacket and extended the pixie to me. “I’m not sure what you mean. But if I’m looking at you in a way that makes you uncomfortable, I apologize.”

  My jaw tightened. Something was going on, something he wasn’t telling me. “You’re hiding something from me. That fine, it’s your prerogative. But I think I have a right to know if whatever you’re hiding from me is going to get me killed.”

  “It would be a grave inconvenience for me if you died,” Anton replied.

  “Well I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you,” I muttered, then shrugged. “I thought that contract guaranteed us a relationship of open communication and honestly. If that’s not the case—”

  Suddenly he was standing right in front of me, gripping my chin, forcing my head up. Instinct screamed at me, but it was too late. For the second time that night, I pitched forward into a winter sky, lost to the hypnotic pull of his vampiric power.

  “You work for me,” he whispered. “I will share information with you when I feel it is relevant. You will share information with me if there is even the slightest chance it pertains to the task I have hired you to complete. I will be the first to know of any clues you detect, no matter how inconsequential they may seem. You withheld information from me once. You will not do it again.”

  My brain floated on a warm river, flowing in a lazy zigzag pattern, pulled along by the vampire’s voice. I was a fool to have hidden anything from him. He needed to know. He needed to know everything.

  Something pulsed inside the vault. I didn’t know if Anton felt it too or not, but suddenly his stare was broken, and I’d taken a step back. My senses tingled as cold reality swallowed the last of the trance’s effects, leaving me clearheaded and coherent. His eyes widened—a small reaction, but enough to tell me I’d surprised him by breaking away.

  That’s bad. Don't surprise the vampire. Don't be interesting in any way. A fine trembling began in my legs and climbed up my body until it was all I could do to keep my voice steady.

  “Of course, you’ll be the first to know of anything I find,” I said. “You are, after all, my boss. Temporarily.”

  Peasblossom clung to my fingers, and even I was shocked at my audacity. It was one thing to crack jokes out of nervousness, but there was a point at which that became downright perilous.

  Anton gritted his teeth. “Listen to me, Mother Renard. This is not just a missing book. This is a turning point. Fail this, and I promise you, people will die.”

  Chapter 8

  “Who’s going to die?” I gave myself Brownie points for keeping my voice steady. Knowing the vampire threatened people on a daily basis, probably killed on a regular schedule, didn’t rob his threat of any weight. It rather added to it, in fact. “I don’t appreciate threats,” I added.

  “That was not a threat,” he corrected me. “That was my attempt to educate you on the seriousness of the situation. The information in that book could be catastrophic in the wrong hands. There are creatures out there who share Isai’s desire for human enslavement. Creatures who yearn for the days when humans feared us, served us at our leisure.”

  Blue eyes glinted in the muted light as he drew himself up and looked at me from under a fall of white-blond hair. “You say you fear me, but as a wise man once said, ‘Better the devil you know.’” His hand drifted over his belt near his right hip as if seeking the comfort of a weapon. “I have spent a great deal of time gathering information. Information on people, events, species. To you, that information is merely fuel for blackmail. But the blackmail you are so disdainful of does not merely fill my coffers. It also keeps creatures who hunger for war from banging their drums and flowing over the land like a dark tide.”

  “That’s very poetic,” I said, keeping my voice calm and even. It took effort not to meet someone’s eyes when you spoke to them, especially when the conversation involved people dying, but he’d already tranced me twice. If I had to ask my questions to the space between his eyebrows, so
be it. “Can I assume you don’t intend to give a specific example?”

  Blue eyes paled, becoming colder. “There is a reason I lock that information in a vault. You must trust me that the danger is real.”

  “Real, but hypothetical,” I pointed out. “You don’t know why the thief took the book. It could have been to keep you from using it against them personally. You admit you were blackmailing Flint, and Isai. I won’t waste my breath asking how many others would like to sponge their name from those pages.”

  “Do not let the current hypothetical nature of the danger lull you into a false sense of security. Do not assume this must be personal, the danger limited to an individual level. That has led to the fall of more than one ruler, more than one civilization. We must hope for the best and prepare for the worst. It is the key to survival.”

  Dimitri’s voice filled the hallway from the vicinity of the ceiling. “Actually, Father, I’m afraid the danger isn’t so hypothetical anymore.”

  Anton glared up at the grate above the space we occupied outside the vault. “We will discuss this later tonight. My office is bad enough, but you go too far putting your little devices outside the vault.”

  “You never appreciate my efforts to help you improve security.” Dimitri sighed. “Security is a key to survival too, Father.”

  I shared a look with Peasblossom. Her pink eyes were wide and shining with unabashed amusement. I had to admit, it was tempting to let the conversation play out. I couldn’t deny a certain fascination with the idea of Prince Kirill of Dacia, vampire feared throughout the five kingdoms, criminal mastermind of the new world, having a son. But the seriousness of the vampire’s warning echoed in my ears, and I couldn’t let idle curiosity derail the conversation.

  “Dimitri, you said the danger isn’t hypothetical. What did you mean?” I asked.

  “Lovely to speak with you again, Shade,” Dimitri responded. “I regret to inform you that the danger has grown somewhat more real. I’ve been picking up chatter about an auction.”

  Anton froze. “Auction?”

  “An auction,” Dimitri confirmed. “There’s been no mention of a formal date, but I’ve heard from multiple sources that your book will be offered up at an exclusive gathering of the most powerful and influential the Otherworld has to offer.”

  “Who?” Anton demanded between gritted teeth.

  “Unsurprisingly, not all who qualify for such an invitation have learned to use the internet, and bugging areas where such things are discussed takes a great deal of time and effort—something you never appreciate. I tracked down one or two shady sorts claiming to be selling tickets to the auction, but they turned out to be scams. I’ve overheard four conversations that seem to involve people with a legitimate knowledge of the affair, and they all mention having heard of it from someone else.” A hint of admiration crept into Dimitri’s voice. “Whoever started the rumors was clever. Everyone is talking about the auction, but no one knows the location or who’s hosting. All that secrecy gives it unquestionable legitimacy, and everyone wants—no needs—to be invited.”

  “I know the auction’s location,” a feminine voice said.

  The Dacian accent told me who it was before I saw her. It was as thick as her husband’s, and much thicker than her son’s. Peasblossom perked up, planting her sticky hands on the edge of my palm so she could lean down the hallway toward the visitor.

  “It’s Irina,” she whispered.

  In the five kingdoms, the vampire’s bonded rusalka mate had been Irina Shevchenko, but here in the new world, she was Vera Winters. She flowed down the hallway with all the sensuality of her fey heritage, wearing an above-the-knee black dress with a white fleece dress coat that flared at the hips. A beret sat on her coal-black hair, a splash of red to bring out the rich color of her lips. Warm brown eyes met mine and she held out a hand.

  “Mother Renard, I’m so pleased to meet you. My husband told me he’d hired you, and you must forgive me for not arranging a meeting sooner. I’ve heard of you, of course. What an interesting life you must have led as the apprentice of Baba Yaga.”

  I smiled back and took her hand. “Interesting is one word for it. And please, call me Shade. May I say, it’s such a pleasure to meet you as well. I’ve heard of all the wonderful work you’ve done. Even the goblin women speak your name with a smile.”

  Vera beamed. “I helped them out a bit with child-rearing. It can be so difficult to get those sharp-toothed little ones to sleep, and nursing them to dreamland can be a painful process. A lullaby does wonders.”

  “Hello, Mother.”

  Dmitri’s voice drew Vera’s attention up, and her eyes sparkled as she clasped her hands together in front of her. “Hello, my angel. You’ve managed to get to the vault. How talented you are!”

  Anton pinched the bridge of his nose. “My love, please do not encourage this.”

  “Oh, you know you’re impressed, don’t pretend you’re not. He’s so clever, our son.”

  The vampire dropped his arm, a look of defeat on his face. “He gets it from you, I’m certain.”

  I blinked as Anton slid an arm around his wife and then laid a gentle kiss on her lips as she folded against his chest. I knew he loved her—everyone knew he loved her—but it was still something to see it in person. Such a tender moment for a vampire of his…reputation.

  “I’m clever too!” Peasblossom piped up, straining to make herself as tall as possible. Her wings twitched as if she would fly over to the rusalka, but the sticky blue string kept her glued to my hand. She grunted and tugged harder.

  Vera smiled at Peasblossom, turning so her whole body faced the pixie in a silent show of respect and attention. “I’m certain you are.” She leaned down until her eyes were level with Peasblossom’s. “I’ll bet you’re very sneaky. Why, you probably know all sorts of things people would rather you didn’t.”

  Peasblossom gave an excited hop, opened her mouth, then froze. Her pink eyes flicked to Anton. The vampire watched her with significantly more interest than a moment ago. “Not really,” she squeaked.

  “I could stand here all night and talk about the miracles you’ve accomplished and the wonder that is our offspring, but that may need to wait.” Anton leaned closer to his wife. “You say you’ve heard of the auction and know where it’s to be held?”

  Vera brushed at a lock of Anton’s blond hair, patting his cheek before nodding. “The details aren’t written in stone, but I was speaking with Arianne about using her hotel this spring for the children’s charity event—you remember?”

  “The benefit for immigrant children. Yes, I recall.”

  “That’s the one. You know how strongly Arianne feels about this cause, and she always insists on providing her hotel for these events—free of charge. Anyway, I was speaking with Arianne about this year’s event, and I remembered what Dimitri had said about this auction everyone is whispering about.”

  “You told your mother first?” Anton demanded.

  “Please, don’t interrupt, darling. Anyway, you know there’s no one in the area who even comes close to Arianne’s skill with wards. And it occurred to me that if I were planning to have an auction and invite all manner of creatures…”

  “Then they would need a place that promises the most safety one can expect,” I jumped in. “Somewhere that could contain the damage if a fight broke out so as not to draw the Vanguard’s attention.”

  Anton smiled wide enough that I caught a hint of fang, then took one of Vera’s hands in his and laid a kiss on her knuckles. “You are brilliant, my love.”

  “I know,” she told him. “So I asked Arianne about her hall’s availability for the coming weeks, and she said she the next three days are booked, but it is otherwise open.” Her brown eyes darkened. “That cannot be a coincidence.”

  “I agree,” Anton said. “Did she provide you any more information?”

  “No, and I was my most charming self. I could have questioned her more directly, but I did not want to
seem too interested. Arianne takes secrets very seriously, and her suspicions are easily roused.”

  “And she takes the safety of her hotel even more seriously,” Dimitri added. “If she’s willing to entertain the idea of hosting this auction, then whoever stole the book must have made it worth her while.”

  “Is Arianne in the book?” I asked.

  I hadn’t expected an answer, so I was surprised when Anton shook his head. “Arianne is a reasonable woman with her own agenda. She keeps to herself and her own business and does not like to be disturbed.”

  “Yes, I picked up on that.” I bit my lip. “Did you know Helen Miller worked for her the week before she disappeared?”

  Anton straightened. “No. That was not in the public record, and Mrs. Miller completed her work for me years ago. I did not keep her under surveillance for more than a year after she completed the project.”

  Butterflies swarmed my stomach at the thought I’d found a clue Anton had missed. I couldn’t be sure if it was pride or nerves. “So if you’d known, then you might have included her in your list of suspects?”

  The vampire’s cold blue eyes went hazy, like disturbed snow globes. “You are suggesting that Arianne hired Mrs. Miller because she somehow discovered that Mrs. Miller had a hand in my security system.”

  “I’m not saying she did,” I said quickly. “But in the interest of considering every angle, perhaps we should ask ourselves if it’s possible. I spoke to Mr. Miller, and he said there was something strange about his wife’s behavior after Arianne hired her. He said they called daily for a week, as if she were being hired multiple times. I spoke to Arianne, and she confirmed that she used hypnosis on Mrs. Miller, so she only remembered her work at Suite Dreams when she wore the security badge provided by Arianne herself.”

  “Did you see the work Mrs. Miller did for Arianne?” Anton asked.

  “No.”

  “So you think it’s possible she didn’t do any work for Arianne, that Arianne only had her there so she could question her under hypnosis?” Vera asked.