“Yes, great. When you’re out making deliveries tomorrow, please stop by the house. I’ll leave an envelope for you. Something for your trouble.”
“Um, you don’t have to do that. Tips and everything are all covered with those deliveries. I’m not supposed to take money from you.”
She almost laughed. And what if he did? Early morning firing squad? She wondered if Merrick had personally terrified the delivery boy or if it was just his reputation that had done it. She guessed she should be grateful that the boy was cautious. If he hadn’t been so afraid of Merrick, maybe he’d have told people about the deliveries.
“I understand, Robin, but this wasn’t one of their deliveries. You’re sending a message for me. This time, you should take a tip from me.”
“Um…”
“We can keep the envelope just between us. I’ll leave it with the housekeeper, and you can decide if you want to pick it up or not.”
“Thanks, Miss North.”
“You’re very welcome, and thank you for delivering my message.”
Alissa closed the phone and looked at the clock. Plenty of time had passed for Grant to have checked the security files. She wondered why he hadn’t called her yet.
She fingered the phone. It would be helpful to have some answers before she left for Handyrock’s.
She called, and he answered in his official voice. She raised her brows.
“Is this a bad time?”
“No, it’s as good a time as any,” he said, and she heard him close a door. “I reviewed the footage. I found some of you leaving Dimitri’s. You reached camera twelve, which is the first one that would pick up someone walking from his place to yours, but after that there’s nothing.”
“What do you mean, nothing?”
“I mean that you don’t appear again until hours later on camera eleven, which is closer to your house. There’s a collection of trees between cameras seven and twelve. It seems as though you might have wandered off the path into the wooded area, stayed there during the night, and returned.
“So someone could’ve just carried me through the trees to a waiting car and taken me anywhere from there without ever appearing on another video camera? It would be that easy?”
“No, there are several cameras pointing at those trees from all directions. The lights are motion activated, and there are no real blind spots around that patch of woods.”
“So who entered the woods? Have you checked?”
“I’m going through the footage now, but I’ve gone back for two hours from each of the cameras and I’ve found nothing.”
“Did the lights go on around the woods?”
“No.”
“Could someone have tampered with the cameras?”
“Any manipulation of the cameras or lights sends an alert, and none went off last night.”
“Who has access to the footage? Who could tamper with the feed after the camera records it or with its storage?”
“That would be a complicated process.”
“Who has access?”
“ES and the EC.”
“What about tech support? Computer programmers who designed and maintained the system?”
“Sure.”
She sighed. “Well, someone covered his or her tracks, but I doubt they did it alone. Can people get remote access? Can the security files be looked at from the Dome?”
“If you have clearance on the network, yes.”
“Can you trace who accessed the files last night and today?”
“Alissa,” he said tightly.
“Yes?”
“I know how to run an investigation.”
After a moment, she said, “Yes, of course. I’m sorry. You’re doing everything you can. Please call when you find something.”
“If you weren’t in the woods all night, Alissa, where were you?”
“You’ll tell me when you find out who was involved?”
He was silent.
“I’ll speak to you soon, I hope. Good night,” she said, closing the phone after he said good-bye.
She shook her head. There was no doubt that whoever had orchestrated her abduction was well-placed. It might have been an ES officer or technician who’d acted alone out of deranged loyalty, but somehow she doubted it. More likely, the perfectly executed plan had been conceived by someone close to her. An Etherlin Council member or a muse. Someone who’d been at the party…near enough to touch her.
Standing in his office, Merrick glanced at the door when someone knocked.
“Come,” Merrick said, shuffling the papers he held into a stack.
Ox entered, and Merrick handed them to him.
“What’s this?” Ox asked, glancing down.
“Instructions. I’m going to be away for a few days. Maybe longer. I know you know the drill for when I’m gone, but this time the syndicate might try to come down on you, looking for information about where I am and what I’m doing.”
“Where are you going?”
Merrick stared at Ox, unspeaking.
“I’d never betray you, boss. They could cut me into pieces—”
Merrick held up a hand. “I don’t doubt your loyalty, Ox.”
After a pause, Ox nodded.
“Let’s run the list.”
“Sure,” Ox said, and Merrick went through the instructions that were new, like what Ox should do if the syndicate tried to force their way into Merrick’s building or grabbed some of Merrick’s people for leverage.
“Don’t worry, boss, we’ve got it covered here. If you’ll be gone though, you might want to send a warning to your girl. Been hearing her name whispered a lot in connection with the syndicate. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone tries to make another run at her.”
“Any details?”
“Nah, sketchy stuff. Nothing useful. But speaking of her, that’s what I came up to tell you. She sent a message.”
“Where is it?” he asked, putting a hand out for the envelope.
“That’s the weird thing. She didn’t send flowers or a letter. She had the kid who delivered the flowers call the contact number I gave him. I just heard the message.”
“What was it?”
“She said she’s got to take her eight o’clock meeting after all.”
Merrick jerked his head toward the clock. It was already ten minutes to eight.
“Not sure why she’d want you to know about her Etherlin schedule. Not like you can score an invite—” Ox continued as Merrick grabbed his duffel from the floor.
“Get the V3 clips and meet me in the parking garage.”
Ox’s mouth dropped open. “Are we—?”
Merrick didn’t hear the rest of Ox’s question as he crossed the room in heartbeats.
Chapter 14
Alissa wore a jade dress with silver and peridot jewelry to Handyrock’s so the surrounding colors would complement her choice. The two-story club was filled with furniture the color of limes and fresh snap peas. The chocolate brown wood accents and framed mirrors were all hip and friendly. The music vacillated between pop hits and edgier rock, and pockets of dancers in small nooks were framed by pale green sheers hanging from polished brass ceiling rods.
Her aspirants were gathered around a corner table, laughing and drinking their way through a rainbow of cocktails. Apparently book people and ecoscientists went together like gin and olives. As she watched them, she wished she’d brought them together sooner.
“What are you doing here?”
She glanced over her shoulder to find Troy Rella. Troy had sleek dark hair, a square jaw, and perfect olive skin. In his twenties, he’d modeled for Versace and Armani Exchange before becoming an EC member and the Etherlin’s head publicist. He could write an article about bumping into her at Handyrock’s that would be picked up by the Associated Press and go out to a billion media outlets around the world. He’d never make a muse look bad in print, of course, but he could make her look bad for the council, depending on what he saw and heard when
she met with Tobin. The power Troy could wield, among other things, made her wary.
Despite a thumping heart, she smiled at him. “I’m visiting with some of my aspirants. A couple are new and don’t have their security clearance yet to come into the Etherlin.”
“They don’t have clearance so you came out here to meet them?” he asked disapprovingly.
“What are you doing here?”
“The Handyrock’s owners are friends of mine. I’m going to do some publicity work for them. Not that they’ll need me to. They just hit the exposure jackpot.”
She knew what he would say next, but widened her eyes as if she didn’t.
“A picture of you here,” he said.
Alissa didn’t respond to Troy because she spotted Theo Tobin and was shocked on two counts. First, he didn’t have a camera, which was normally attached to him like an appendage. Second, his battered face and rumpled clothes made him look like he’d slept in a cardboard box and had been hit by a truck while emerging from a Varden alley.
“Wow,” Troy murmured. “What happened to him?”
Tobin hurried straight to them. “Miss North—”
“Mr. Tobin, this is Troy Rella. Ileana Rella’s brother,” she said, cuing him to watch what he said.
“Sure, I know who he is,” Tobin said with a cursory nod at Troy. “Nice to see you.” Tobin’s gaze darted back to her. “I need to talk to you.”
“You don’t look well, Mr. Tobin. Maybe you should go to the emergency room.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Can we talk privately?”
“I suppose so. I’m having drinks with some of my aspirants tonight. Let me say hello to them, and I’ll drop by the bar for a minute.”
He nodded and strode to the bar, looking around nervously.
“It was nice seeing you, Troy. Have a pleasant night.”
“Where’s your security detail?” Troy asked.
Alissa walked away without answering. With Troy’s scrutiny, the night had taken a dangerous turn. She strode up to the table, and all the aspirants sprung up to greet her. After smiles and hugs, she made her excuses and sent one of them to the bar to tell Tobin to meet her at the valet stand. She couldn’t afford to wait for Merrick to arrive. And she couldn’t afford to be seen acknowledging him when he did arrive.
She spotted a staff member with a camera that Troy was sending her way. She glanced around. If she ducked into the bathroom, they’d just wait for her to come out. She and Troy locked eyes, and he gave her a Cheshire cat smile. Damn him!
She assessed which wall would make the best backdrop and crossed to it, crooking a finger at her aspirants. They loped over, still in high spirits. She arranged them quickly.
“Miss North, it looks like you know what I want,” the staffer said with charming sheepishness.
“Of course. I’m pressed for time, so only two shots please.”
“We really appreciate this. You have no idea what this will mean for the club. Let us know if you’d like to move your group to the VIP room upstairs. And of course, we’d like to comp your table’s tab. I’m Neal, one of the owners.”
The aspirants erupted with cheerful thanks and goodwill.
“That’s lovely of you,” Alissa said. Her eyes followed Tobin as he made his way to the front door. When he paled and stopped suddenly, her eyes swung to the entrance. The fierce young woman who came through the door set Alissa’s heart racing. Black buzzed hair, high cheekbones, and scarlet lips. A flash of memory tried to surface. Gravel-voiced and dangerous. When and where had she met the woman? She struggled to remember, but that effort burned away when she saw the man with her. Cato Jacobi wore a black suit and a determined expression.
Alissa’s heart hammered against her ribs. She was tempted to duck behind one of the columns and to try to circumnavigate the club to get out behind Jacobi as he moved inward, but her feet stayed firmly planted. North women weren’t seen running from bars or hiding under tables. She had a room full of witnesses and the handgun she’d stashed in her bag before leaving. If she was going to be ruined, she’d be ruined with her chin up.
She kept her eyes on Cato Jacobi and tipped her head toward the Handyrock’s owner.
“Neal, I need a favor. That man’s ventala, and I can’t be in a club with one of them. Can you ask him to leave?” At the persuasive power in her voice, determination lit Neal’s face and he snapped around, waving at some bouncers.
Jacobi spotted her and smiled. She maintained a cool expression, watching as the Handyrock’s employees blocked Jacobi’s path. The woman with him never slowed. She moved smoothly around the men focused on her companion and walked directly toward Alissa.
The memory, muted but chilling, emerged. Words in a gravelly voice. Pretty earrings, Barbie. And the cold slither of a tongue licking Alissa’s earlobe and jaw. Alissa shuddered.
She’s with him. She’s one of them.
Alissa popped the clasp of her Prada bag and shoved her hand inside. She closed her fingers on the gun, then moved the bag in front her body. It would be a shame to put a hole in the beautiful purse, but a bigger shame to have the pretty psychopath put a hole in her neck.
“Well, hello. Nice to see you again, Miss North,” she said, and licked her red lips in a way that was lascivious and menacing.
Alissa’s thumb clicked off the gun’s safety. Her eyes held the woman in focus, but Alissa inclined her head toward Jack and Hank Erdman, the sandy-haired twins who played folk rock on acoustic guitars and who were going to solve the world’s energy crisis with her help. “Guys, it’s getting very loud here. Let’s see if we can find that VIP room.”
The woman caught Jack’s arm in a vise grip. “Move and you’ll lose one of your pets.” She retracted her lips to show off her fangs. The aspirants, suddenly sober, went silent around her.
“Hurt him, and I’ll make you regret it.”
Black eyes clashed with blue. Alissa didn’t blink.
“Attacking humans and a muse in a club? In front of a hundred witnesses? That’ll be an automatic death sentence for you, and a quick way to get Paragraph Seventeen resurrected.”
Fury flashed in the woman’s eyes. “He’d still be dead and so would you.” The woman grabbed Phyllis, one of Alissa’s writers, by the hair and jerked hard enough to make Phyllis yelp and fall to her knees.
Alissa’s muscles clenched, but she swallowed her gasp. The female ventala lived up to their reputation for explosive rage. A violent twist of Phyllis’s hair made the writer shriek in pain. Alissa had to stop the ventala before she did permanent damage.
“You don’t want this,” Alissa said, thousands of years of muse magic distilled into her every word and breath. “You’re smart, calculating, cool. Your reserve is to be admired.”
The red mouth slackened ever so slightly and the expression softened. Fingers slipped from Phyllis’s hair, and Jack jerked his arm free. All the aspirants backed out of reach. Alissa remained still as the woman’s dark eyes blinked and cleared.
“You bitch,” she sneered. “I’m going to—”
“You want to sit down. You want that now. You’re exhausted.”
The woman’s shoulders slumped, and her body sagged. Alissa jerked the gun free of her bag and pressed it against the woman’s chest a few inches below her left clavicle.
When the woman’s eyes cleared, she roared with fury.
“The gun is loaded with V3 bullets. If I pull the trigger, they’ll tear holes through your heart. I don’t want to hurt you, so back up slowly. You’re relaxed, calm, and you want to step aside and let me pass.”
The woman started to move, but then shook her head and clamped hands over her ears, growling. “Bitch, I am so going to kill you.”
Three things happened almost at once. With her scarlet mouth open, the woman lunged for Alissa’s throat; Alissa’s finger pulled the trigger; and the woman was jerked through the air by Merrick.
The bullet went throu
gh the woman’s arm to embed itself in a column, leaving a bloody spray. With his left arm around the woman’s waist, Merrick’s free hand shoved Alissa’s forearm down, so the gun was pointed at the floor. The woman shouted curses as Merrick flung her through the air. She landed on a couch, but erupted off it, pulling a blade loose as she launched herself toward him like a Fury.
Merrick crouched and rose in a blindingly quick move. His left arm deflected her right, making the blade miss his throat, but it still slashed across his shoulder as her body connected with his.
The woman’s eyes widened in shock, and she crumpled. Merrick lowered her to the floor, and Alissa watched his right hand emerge from under her. The long blade in his hand was stained the red of a cocktail cherry.
Cato Jacobi, whose mouth dripped with the blood of his victims, wailed, “Tamberi!”
Merrick slid his blade back under his pant leg and yanked open the woman’s suit jacket. Crimson bloomed from her torso like an opening rose. He thumped his palm down in the center, compressing the wound.
“Put it back in your purse,” Merrick said.
Alissa’s eyes darted to the gun, and she shoved it away. Cato Jacobi slammed his way past bodies, ready to attack.
“She’ll be all right!” Merrick said, making Jacobi come up short. “Here,” Merrick said. “Press here.”
Cato dropped to his knees and shoved his hand over the wound.
“I stopped short of her heart.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Cato rasped.
“You’re welcome.”
Merrick stood, and Mr. Orvin appeared right behind him, shaking his head. “It’s a bloody mess. He killed a couple of them.”
“I saw,” Merrick said. “These are yours?” he asked Alissa, nodding at her aspirants.
“Yes,” she said.
Merrick glanced at the shredded shirt and bleeding wound on Ox’s thick neck. “How bad is that?”
“A scratch. He tried to get a bigger piece, but didn’t.”
“Take these people to the front and wait for the cops. Cato may lose control again. You’ve got your gun. Use it if you need to. Leg wound if you can since he’s Victor’s kid, but if you’ve got to kill him, I’ll have your back until it’s over.”
All That Bleeds Page 12
