by Wren Weston
“So let me get this straight. Patrick Wilson has been behind the false arrests this entire time? It’s been Patrick paying off Slack & Roberts? You can’t expect me to believe that Chairwoman Wilson didn’t know.”
“Of course she knew, or at least condoned what was going on. Chief Shaw and I suspect that she was too busy trying to get pregnant to pay close attention to what Patrick was doing. He did a great many things in her name.”
“He ordered Peter to kill you?”
“Zephyr told him how to do it, but yes. Killing me kept both their secrets. I misjudged Zephyr. He’s not afraid of spilling blood.”
“Do you think he knows that Patrick and his mother have been arrested?”
“Yes.”
Do you think he’ll run?
“No. He’s not sure how exposed he is yet. He’s got too many highborns in his pocket to give it up that easy, especially since he lives right here in New Bristol.”
“You found him?”
Lila shook her head. “Think about it, though. Everyone he bribed has lived in New Bristol or near it. Plus he had to have access to Bullstow in order to plant his trap in the code. I think he’s local, and I don’t think he’ll want to move yet.”
Will he try to hurt you again?
“I don’t think so, at least not until he realizes who Prolix is. Patrick pushed him into coming after me. It wasn’t Zephyr’s idea.”
“That doesn’t mean he won’t try again now that the idea is in his head,” Tristan pointed out. “He’s dug himself into a hole, and people do stupid things when they’re panicked.”
What next?
“I find Zephyr before he finds me.”
Tristan perched on the coffee table across from her. “Chief,” he said, rescuing the pillow in her lap and placing it beside her.
It was just one simple word. One word said in the place of another.
She’d grown to enjoy the way he said her name, his rolling accent, the way he stretched the vowels.
That was gone now.
“What?”
“Ask for help.”
She almost chuckled. “Chief Shaw can’t—”
“Not from Shaw.”
Lila leaned back against the couch, finally understanding. “You want me to ask you for help? You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Not even a little. Is it so hard to ask your friends for help?”
“Friends?”
“Yes. Friends.”
“That’s an interesting word coming from you. I don’t need anyone’s help. I can do this on my—”
“Maybe you can, but you don’t have to.”
Lila snatched the pillow back and curled her legs underneath her. “Fine. Help me find Zephyr, then.”
Tristan nodded and pulled out his palm. It was his usual stance when starting a new job.
“I suppose you want money?” she asked.
“No.”
“What do you want, then?”
“Nothing.”
“You always want something.”
“You might not believe this, but most of the jobs you’ve asked us to participate in, we would have done for free. They nearly always align with our interests. You always want to give us something, though, as if you wouldn’t trust us otherwise. It’s why I always make deals with you. That’s all you understand.” He tapped on his computer for several seconds before looking up at her expectantly. “Tell us everything you know about Zephyr.”
Dixon moved to the couch, his notepad in his lap, ready to chime in.
“You must want something.” Lila’s eyes straying over Tristan’s face.
She saw no trace of deception in him, though, only a bit of frustration in his heavy sigh.
Forgiveness.
“No,” Tristan muttered. “You’re making it worse.”
Dixon looked down at his notepad and scratched out the word with his pencil, drawing line after line after line. Eventually, he pulled the page out of his notebook, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it onto the floor.
Lila watched it bounce away. “I don’t understand how you’re going to help me. Toxic and Reaper are fine at what they do, breaking into buildings and finding a few records here and there, but they’d be lost—”
“Humor us. Perhaps you just need a fresh set of eyes.”
Lila sat up. The couch had begun to get a little too comfortable. She couldn’t afford to fall asleep now, not until she found her quarry. She was too tired to think of the implications and too exhausted to worry if it was the right thing to do. Perhaps Zephyr wasn’t the only one who had begun to panic. Two men’s lives and reputations hung in the balance, for Shaw and her father would be hanged, or at least ruined and exiled from Bullstow, if her part in the investigations came to light.
Not to mention her own career, her own place in the Randolph family, and her own neck.
In a faltering voice, Lila talked about things she shouldn’t. She told Dixon and Tristan everything she’d learned about the Sun Leasing Company, about Zephyr, about the Liberté bank accounts, about her father’s file.
Tristan listened, flipping a silver medallion forward and back around his knuckles as she spoke, occasionally snatching it up to type into his palm. “I don’t think you need new eyes on it,” he said after she was done. “I think you just need a new approach. You need to stop all this sneaky highborn shit and do what we would do.”
“What’s that?”
“Confront him.”
Lila snorted. “If I could find him, then I wouldn’t be in—”
“You don’t need to find him. You just need to find someone who knows him, then get that person to draw him out. You said Natalie Holguín is on that list, right?”
“Yes.”
“Has she been arrested?”
“Not yet. Bullstow hasn’t completed their investigation.”
“Good. I know Natalie, or, at least I did.” His eyes darted to Dixon. “I think we should hire a new hacker, Dixon, don’t you? Since ours are only fine at what they do.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I didn’t either. Where is Natalie living these days? I know she’s not staying at the family vineyard.”
“Why do you want her address?”
“Because I’ll need it if I’m going to turn up on her doorstep, with cash, asking her to set up a meeting with her most capable hacker.”
“What if she tells you to get lost?”
“Then we’ll threaten to turn her in.”
Dixon shook his head so quickly that Lila thought it might swing off. He started scribbling on his notepad faster than Lila had ever seen before.
No. Natalie is trouble. She’ll do something. We’ll get caught.
Tristan clapped Dixon’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. We’re not going to get caught.”
Dixon pushed him away. He snatched up his notepad and moved to the corner of the room, his gaze fixed on a point outside the window.
Lila watched him go. “What are you going to threaten her with?”
Tristan smirked. “I’ve had a few of my people following her the last few months. Natalie loves selling Sangre to people she shouldn’t.”
“She’s selling to the empire?” Lila shook her head. Natalie was a lot of things, the least of which was opportunistic, but Lila never thought she would stoop that low.
“No, that’s not what I meant. The Holguíns are proud. Chances are if your mother ended her boycott today, Chairwoman Holguín still wouldn’t sell to her. Long memory and all. It doesn’t matter much, since the vineyards aren’t a key part of their business. She doesn’t need the money, but Natalie does. Her matron would be very interested to hear that Natalie is selling Sangre to the same families who are boycotting her.”
“That’s your pla
n? She’ll help you, or you’ll tattle to her matron?”
“Why not? The woman loves her blood squad.”
Lila shivered. Every highborn matron had access to a special force, altogether separate from her militia, whose jurisdiction remained valid only on her property. The group handled serious crimes against the family, usually violent and usually perpetrated by a family member. Matrons had begun the practice to deal with internal assassination attempts, preserving their family’s safety when the courts might not get involved due to flimsy evidence. Since High House valued the safety of their matrons, mothers, siblings, children, and the mothers of their children, they had never struck down the practice. The death of an occasional innocent, so long as it kept their families safe, was an acceptable sacrifice.
Low House rarely got involved either, for blood squads rarely touched non-highborn. It was beneath them. It was a job for the militia. Besides, any Low House senator who tried to bring legislation against the practice could kiss his career goodbye.
“I’m surprised you’d threaten a person with that,” Lila said. “Even someone like Natalie. I figured you’d be against blood squads on principle.”
Tristan cut his eyes to Dixon, who’d retreated even further into the corner. “I am. I didn’t say I’d actually turn the information over to her matron. In any case, I have a list of who she’s been selling to, and amounts, sometimes even photos. Even you once, you little sneak. I might not have proof of her other crimes, and she is guilty of much more, but we at least have this much to use as leverage. It will all be useless anyway once Shaw arrests her.”
“When that happens, what’s to say she won’t turn on you and tell Chief Shaw about you for a lighter sentence?”
“Oh, that’s exactly what she’ll do, but what’s there to tell? That two slaves escaped from her family’s compound in Beaulac seven years ago and now live somewhere in New Bristol? I’m sure the head of the Bullstow militia will get right on that.”
Lila sat back in the couch. “Why would Natalie introduce Zephyr to anyone? It exposes her.”
“Because she, like most of the women in that family, love taking slaves down a peg. The idea of me wanting something that she has, even if that something is broken, will be too much for her. She won’t be able to let it go.”
Lila narrowed her eyes. “Why would Zephyr take the job?”
“Because we’ll offer him something money can’t buy.”
“What’s that?”
“An emperor and a princess.”
Lila’s mouth opened. “Maria? Tristan, you didn’t—”
“Of course we did. We weren’t about to leave the girl there. I refuse to let your mother offer her up to the highest bidder. She’s just a child, a fifteen-year-old girl who doesn’t deserve what’s happened to her. She’s done nothing to warrant such a life. Neither did her father, for that matter, at least until yesterday.”
“What will you do with her?”
Tristan thumbed his palm. “What do you think?”
“You want to send her to Germany, don’t you?”
“If she wants to go.”
“That’s treason.”
“If that’s treason, then I curse every patriot. You should, too.”
Lila’s brain pounded against her skull. She needed more of Sutton’s pain pills. “How did you even get her off the compound?”
“There was a lot of chaos when Bullstow knocked on the door this morning. My people nabbed the girl from the scullery in the confusion. Everyone was so concerned about Chairwoman Wilson and her son that no one noticed Maria Kruger. I’m told she came quietly, didn’t even put up a fight. It was sad, really, hearing them tell me how easy it was. She’s so very used to doing what she’s told.”
“So you’re not going to hand Maria and her father over to Zephyr?”
“Of course not. I just need the man to believe it, at least enough for him to meet me.” He caught Dixon’s eye and winked. “You see, we need a hacker who can break into Liberté. He’ll recognize his own bank account number, and I just know he’ll want to take the job. He’ll want the carrots I’m dangling. He’ll meet.”
Chapter 25
Something brushed Lila’s arm, ticking her skin.
She shot up in bed, panting.
Tristan crouched over her, grasping the ends of a gray woolen blanket, illuminated by the light from the adjoining room. Behind his head, a string of bottle caps dangled from the dark window, and a heater hummed near the bed. It hadn’t been there when she had fallen asleep.
“I didn’t mean to wake you. You were curled up in a knot like you were cold.” He gently pushed her back to the mattress and settled the blanket around her shoulders.
“What time is it?”
“Eight o’clock. Go back to sleep. I’ll—”
“Eight?” Lila flipped over and thrust her hand into the pillowcase. She withdrew her palm, thumbing on the display.
Tristan frowned. “You hid it in the pillowcase?”
“Yes. Where else would I have put it? It’s not like this has a pocket.” She tugged at the chest of her cotton shirt, washed to softness.
Not hers.
Tristan’s.
It smelled like him. Not soap and whiskey but the scent that pooled in the crook of his neck, the scent that begged her to lean over, to breathe him in deep.
The bed smelled like him too.
She pressed her thighs together, her blood rushing throughout her body, recalling a sea of light blue paint and a creaking plastic mattress.
His hands upon her body.
His hands attaching a piece of cardstock under her officer’s stars while she’d been tranqed.
“It’s late,” she said, knowing she’d not be able to go back to sleep after such thoughts. “Why didn’t you wake me before?”
“Because I’ve been hit with a tranq dart. I know what it’s like. Exhaustion, nausea, sore muscles.” He ticked off each symptom on his fingers. “You needed a nap.”
“Five hours isn’t a nap.” She scrolled through the messages on her palm, focusing on one from Alex, written two hours earlier. You snuck out, I see. I’ll cover for you as long as I can. Are you okay?
Lila sighed. She had not escaped the problem she’d faced that afternoon, only deferred it. At some point, she’d have to return home and tell Alex what had happened to her mother and brother.
She’d have to tell her friend what she had done to them.
It needed to happen soon. She couldn’t let Alex hear it from someone else.
Lila lay back into the pillow and tapped on her display. Yes. I’ll be back in a few hours. Thanks, Alex.
“You look better. You even have a bit of color in your cheeks.”
Lila rolled onto her back and stretched like a cat, flexing each muscle as far as she could reach, relieved they responded at almost their full strength, sharpness, and quickness.
Tristan was right. The extra sleep really had done her some good.
It didn’t mean she had to admit it, though.
“Did you set up the meet?”
“Yes. I had to blackmail her for it. Zephyr will meet us tonight in one of the abandoned factories on the Wilson-Kruger estate.”
“Where?” she blurted.
“It’s a good spot. The Wilson estate is neutral territory for both of us, and it’s in limbo right now. At least half of the Wilson militia has walked off the job since the chairwoman and her son were taken into custody this morning, and Bullstow can’t touch the place until they formally charge her.”
“And Chief Shaw isn’t going to do that because he doesn’t want to spook Zephyr any further. An arrest means they’ll go after him next.”
“Exactly.”
“It’s not the worst plan you’ve ever had.”
Tristan bowed dramatically. “If you’r
e not going back to sleep, then come and eat. It will help.”
Lila nodded. After he closed the door, she changed back into her own clothes and padded into the makeshift kitchen. Several Styrofoam containers filled with takeout had been lined up in a neat little row on the counter, along with a bag from Plum Luck Dragon. Her stomach growled at the smell of grilled meat.
“Where’s Dixon?”
“He’s making a few last-minute preparations. There’s a lot to do.”
“Bullshit. If there were any last-minute preparations to make, you’d be handling them.”
Tristan took out the last container from the bag and added it the row, lining it up perfectly with the rest of the food. “Pick whatever you—”
“Tristan…”
“He’s not hungry. I’m not even sure he could eat anything right now, so I haven’t pressed it.”
“I’ve never seen him like this before. It’s because you’re dealing with Natalie, isn’t it?” She eyed Tristan carefully. “What exactly happened to him on the Holguín estate all those years ago? His tongue? The scars? His voice? You’ve hinted, but you—”
“That’s his story, not mine. I won’t tell you what he won’t.”
Lila sat down in one of the barstools at the counter. “Fine. Tell me who else isn’t eating,” she said, pointing to all the food.
“I didn’t know what you’d want. I’ll take whatever’s left down to Doc and the others. Someone will eat it.”
Lila popped open the containers from the Plum Luck Dragon one by one. The first held pork lo mein, her favorite. She usually requested it whenever they ate at the restaurant, but sometimes she’d ordered the other dishes instead.
Lila tugged the pork lo mein nearer. “I guess you’ve been paying attention.”
Tristan didn’t answer. He opened the Plum Luck Dragon bag, dug out a plastic fork, and slid it across the counter. Then he began closing up the other meals and packing them back into the bag. “I’ll be back later. I should—”
“Tristan, wait. About yesterday—”
He turned toward her all at once, abandoning the food. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I didn’t think about any of it, and I know I can’t take it back. You don’t trust me anymore. I see it every time you look at me. It cuts me up.”
