Deadline (Blood Trails Book 1)

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Deadline (Blood Trails Book 1) Page 16

by Jennifer Blackstream


  No one.

  I let out a breath.

  “You have an overactive imagination,” Peasblossom commented.

  “Armatura,” I whispered, squeezing the hand with the blue ring I’d charged this morning. The gem glowed with cerulean flame, flaring over my arms and legs, across my chest.

  “Better hope she doesn’t have a gun,” Peasblossom said. A trace of concern crept into her voice. “Maybe we should wait. I’m sure if you gave him enough time, Dimitri could get you all the information you need on this woman, right down to her favorite ice cream. Why don’t we go ask? We could just speak into a planter in Anton’s lobby. I’m sure he’ll hear us.”

  “We are in a public place,” I reminded her. “We’ll be fine. I’m just going to talk to her.” I paused. “But just to be safe, I want you to hide on the floor beside the doorway. When she comes to the door, you sneak in while her focus is on me. Hide until it’s time to leave. If something goes wrong, you go and get help.”

  “All right. If you’re sure we can’t just go talk to Dimitri…”

  In response, I strode up to room 204 and knocked on the door. The room key was Plan B, in case she didn’t open it. As it turned out, I didn’t need it.

  The same blonde who’d knocked me down outside the Winters building yesterday answered. Her blue eyes widened slightly as she realized who I was.

  “Oh.” She blinked. “It’s you. Um, are you all right?” She knitted her brows together, the perfect picture of concern.

  “I’m fine,” I assured her. “I was just hoping I could ask you a few questions.”

  “Um, I’m a little busy,” she said carefully. “What’s this about?”

  I leaned in. “I’d like to know why you tried to spy on me.”

  I had to give her credit. She looked so confused, nervous in the way people were when someone covered in tattoos sat next to them on the subway. For a split second, I worried I’d gotten it wrong. Worried it hadn’t been her who laid the spell on me.

  I was just about to check for magic when she dropped the arm braced on the doorframe. Her posture remained guarded, but she waved me inside with a tight smile.

  “Come in.”

  My nerves danced with anxiety as I followed her across brown carpet painted with bright yellow swirls, to a light blue couch. She was the one who’d spelled me. I needed to be careful. I closed my fist, feeling the ring on my finger. It hummed against my skin, reassuring me the protection spell was still firmly in place. My hostess gestured for me to be seated, then sat on the other end.

  “Can I offer you a drink? Coffee? Tea? We could call room service if you like?”

  “No, no thank you.” I fought not to look around for Peasblossom. This wasn’t the first time she’d acted as my backup. She knew what she was doing.

  Ms. Violet smiled. “Very well. Shall we get right to it, then?”

  “I think that would be best.” I gestured at her modest blue pantsuit and white sweater. “Perhaps a real introduction?”

  “Alice,” she said amicably. “And you are?”

  “Shade.”

  “Lovely to meet you, Shade.”

  I laid my hands in my lap, but didn’t fold them, just in case I needed a quick spell. “Tell me, Alice, is your name as fake as your appearance?”

  Her smile didn’t falter. “I’m sorry?”

  I shrugged, not taking my gaze from her blue eyes. There was something there, something behind those baby blues, that polite amusement. “If you want to continue pretending, that’s fine. I can wait.” I leaned back against the couch, making a show of getting comfortable.

  She studied me for a long minute. “Shade,” she said slowly, as if testing my name. “What is your last name?”

  “Renard.” A lot of people believed knowing someone’s full name gave you power over that person in some way. They were right. But Shade Renard was the name I’d given myself. My real name was buried with the rest of my past.

  “What were you doing at the Winters building, Shade Renard?”

  “Let me look you in the eye—really look you in the eye—and we’ll talk,” I said evenly.

  For a second, I thought she’d refuse. There were ways to force her to drop the glamour, but I wasn’t sure it would be the smartest move. Without knowing who she was, I couldn’t truly protect myself. Peasblossom could go for help, but if this woman decided to kill me quickly, that wouldn’t do me any good.

  “Oh, very well,” she said finally. “I suppose there’s no harm. Certainly no reason to start our friendship off on the wrong foot.”

  The magic fell away like a severed Broadway curtain, revealing a creamy complexion contrasted by dark slashes of blood-red lipstick and thick purple eyeshadow. Pale lilac hair curled in a pile on top of her head in a complicated mess of curls, and a black cape fastened at her throat boasted a high neckline that rose like a fan of feathers almost as high as her hair. Her long black dress flowed down her legs to pool on the floor.

  “And your name?” I prodded.

  “Alice is fine,” she said evenly, staring at me with eyes that were no longer blue, but a dark brown that reminded me of burnt wood.

  I slipped my hand into my jacket and plucked my cell phone from the side pocket of my waist pouch. Before Alice could react, I snapped her picture. A few swipes later, I’d sent it to my own email address. “Have it your way. I’ll just show this picture to Mr. Winters, and we’ll—”

  “Dabria,” the woman said, rubbing her temples as though I were annoying her. “My name is Dabria.”

  I frowned. That name sounded familiar. “Dabria… I’ve heard of you.”

  She lifted one pale shoulder in a shrug. “Have you?”

  I blinked. “Wait a minute. You stole the Eye of Isis from that sorcerer, the one in Egypt who kept crocodiles as pets.”

  Dabria didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to. I knew who she was now. A thief. And not just any thief. She was one of the Old Kingdom’s most infamous thieves.

  “I thought you lived in the Old Kingdom. You’re from Dacia, aren’t you?”

  Dabria inclined her head. “I am. And I do.”

  “Then what are you doing here? What were you doing at the Winters building?”

  My mind was spinning so fast I could scarcely keep up with my own thoughts. I certainly wasn’t holding my tongue the way I should. A master thief had walked out of the Winters building, had cast a scrying spell on me. It couldn’t be a coincidence. She had to be the one. She has means.

  “I was there to see Isai.”

  “Isai?” I paused, my whirling thoughts stuttering at the mention of the irate wizard.

  “Yes. On a personal matter.”

  “Personal?” I tried and failed to imagine Isai having a personal life. Or, more specifically, I tried and failed to imagine anyone wanting to be part of Isai’s personal life.

  “Yes.”

  “What kind of personal matter?”

  She wagged a finger at me. “You are a nosy little witch, aren’t you? I told you, it’s private.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “I’m sorry, but it’s a bit odd to be called nosy by someone who only yesterday tried to use magic to spy on me.”

  Dabria shrugged. “Force of habit. You’d be surprised how many of my heists have started from information gleaned in just such a way. Don’t take it personally.”

  “Oh, I won’t. But you’ll understand if I have to bring this up to Anton Winters? I’m not sure he’ll like hearing that your ‘force of habit’ led you to spy on his property, even if you weren’t spying on him.” I paused. “Or were you?”

  The sorceress laughed, her head falling back and one hand fluttering fingers at me as though I’d said something silly. “Oh, my, you do have an active imagination, Mother Renard. No, I was not trying to spy on Mr. Winters.” She sighed and leaned back against the arm of the couch. “If you must know, I was there to talk with Isai about an inheritance issue.”

  “Inheritance?”

 
Dabria nodded. “Yes. You see, my sister passed away, quite a long time ago, in fact. As her only living relative—her only living blood relative—I believe I’m entitled to her property. I’m trying to convince Isai to see it the same way.”

  “What does Isai have to do with it?” I asked, confused.

  “My sister was Serafina Schevchenko. A powerful sorceress who…courted Mr. Winters for a short time. Of course, at that time he was Prince Kirill of Dacia.” She rolled her eyes. “My sister had grand ideas of being queen one day. She helped Kirill often, building an alliance here and there. She was the one who helped him get Isai’s spellbook, you know.”

  So that’s how he got it. “You said your sister passed away…?”

  “Betrayed by the vampire for the sake of that seductress he married. My beloved step-niece.” Dabria shrugged. “Serves her right, I say. Only a fool lets her future rest on the affections of a corpse.”

  “Kirill—Anton—killed your sister?”

  “Yes.”

  And that’s motive. “I see.”

  Dabria snorted. “I rather doubt you do. My sister had no use for me when she was alive. She claimed my magic was too inferior, that it rendered me useless.” She sat forward on the couch, her eyes flashing with sudden anger. “She got what was coming to her, but I didn’t get what was coming to me. She has an entire castle full of scrolls, items of power, and all manner of desirable artifacts. They’re mine now—by all rights, they’re mine.” She curled her hands into fists in her lap. “That vampire is keeping it from me. He had his pet wizard ward her castle, and no matter how I try, I have not been able to find a way in.”

  “You went to see Isai to bribe him to lower the wards so you can get into your sister’s castle.”

  “Bribe, seduce, blackmail—I’m not picky. I don’t care what it takes, I just want what’s mine. All of what’s mine.”

  “If you were just in this world to speak with Isai, then why get the hotel room?” I asked.

  She grinned. “My presence upsets Kirill—Anton. I like to visit Cleveland periodically and stay nearby just to watch him squirm.” She leaned back. “Besides, Isai is quite stubborn. I’m not going to convince him to do what I want in one meeting, so I’m here for a few days.”

  “He won’t betray Anton,” I pointed out. “I’m sure the vampire has given very specific instructions that he not allow you into that castle.”

  “Yes, I’m familiar with Isai’s vow. The old fool.” She scoffed. “He should have let the spellbook go. Yes, it would have taken time to rebuild, but at least he would have been free. Instead he bartered away his life for the sake of a few spells.”

  I didn’t think Isai would consider a lifetime of power-grabbing “a few spells,” but I didn’t say anything. Dabria had a reputation for being successful despite a lack of strong personal magic, so I doubted she’d understand Isai’s reliance on his spellbook regardless.

  “I daresay he sees the error of his ways now,” Dabria continued, a malicious grin lifting the corners of her blood-red mouth. “He hates Anton, despises him with a fiery passion. He will betray the vampire in any way he can. And there is always a way.”

  “He signed a contract with Anton. And Anton strikes me as very thorough.”

  “True. But Anton’s contracts have power for two reasons. The first being, of course, the natural consequences of breaking one’s word. The gods don’t like it, and few magic users are willing to risk the harm to their magic if they’re forsworn. And the second is the magic of the contract itself. As to the first, that is a personal choice. It isn’t that Isai can’t betray his master, so much as whether he’s willing to accept the consequences of such a betrayal. As to the second… Well, who do you think creates those enchanted contracts? Anton is many things, but he is no wizard.”

  I remembered what Anton had said about Isai, how he’d grown careless, less fearful in this new world with all its conveniences. Perhaps the wizard was now willing to do what he wouldn’t before. Perhaps being forsworn was no longer a fate worse than being the vampire’s servant? More motive for Isai.

  “If Isai has turned you down already—and from what you say, it sounds like he’s been turning you down for some time—then what makes you think you’ll convince him now?”

  “Everyone has a price,” Dabria said evenly. “I have acquired some new pieces. I’m hoping one of them will persuade him.”

  “Pieces?”

  She nodded and reached for a box on the table in front of her. I hadn’t seen it behind the planter. She put her hand flat against it and there was a clicking sound. The lid rose slightly, but not enough for me to catch a look at what was inside. I held my breath, wondering if I need to move, or run. I tightened my fist until the ring dug into my flesh, pouring more magic into the band.

  “Relax, Mother Renard. It’s only a stone.”

  Dabria opened the box and lifted a jewel from its black velvet interior. It was the size of my fist, and glowed with a muted red light. She set it on the table, and I thought she might have scooted back, so that I was closer to the stone than she was.

  Before I could move, the stone glowed brighter. There was something about it that made it hard to look away. I sat, transfixed by the dancing flames under the multifaceted surface. It was beautiful. So beautiful, that it almost distracted me from the look on Dabria’s face, the wilting of her smile at the corners. I looked up, and for a split second, I would have sworn I saw fear in her eyes. Or maybe not fear, but something similar. Dread? Whatever reaction she’d expected from the stone, this hadn’t been it. I called my magic and raised a hand to the gem, ready to find out exactly what it was.

  Dabria snatched it up, threw it back into the box, and slammed the lid shut. “Sorry, you just get a peek. Though if Isai does turn me down again and you think you might be interested in a purchase, we can certainly discuss it then.”

  I gaped after her as she hauled the box across the room and set it on a desk tucked into the corner. “What was that?”

  Nervous tension held her shoulders, but when she turned back to me, she had her hostess smile back in place. “As I said, we can discuss it later if my negotiations fail. Now enough about me and my wares.” She leaned back against the desk, visibly trying to relax. “You haven’t told me anything about yourself.”

  “Such as?”

  Dabria gripped the back of the desk. “Why were you in the Winters building?”

  I had a split second to make my decision. I wasn’t the best liar, but between having Mother Hazel as a mentor, and a pixie as a familiar, I’d learned how to be vague. “Let’s just say I’m opportunistic as well.”

  The sorceress didn’t move. “How do you mean?”

  “Well, I don’t want to bore you with details. Suffice it to say, I’d heard a little rumor about one of the vampire’s more recent acquisitions, and, like you, I was there attempting to negotiate.”

  “And?”

  I sighed and rolled my eyes. “And I was as successful with the vampire as you were with his wizard.”

  “Pity.”

  I shrugged, toying with the zipper of my waist pouch. Dabria’s stare intensified, bearing down on me until I fought not to squirm in my seat. “If only I had your skill. I’m not trying to convince Anton to do something for me, as you are with Isai, so it’s not even a matter of needing his cooperation. If I had the necessary skills, I could…acquire what I wanted without the tediousness of negotiating with the vampire.”

  A sudden stillness filled the room. I picked at a loose thread on my coat, desperately avoiding looking at Dabria. I didn’t want to be too forward. Let her lead. Let her take the bait.

  Dabria’s eyes glittered. “Is that so?”

  I nodded. “Indeed. Perhaps I should try to find someone with the necessary skills to collect it for me. I could even arrange a trade of services. Perhaps you could recommend someone?” There, that was as bold as I could get.

  Silence dragged out between us. I met Dabria’s eyes, giving
up the pretense of fussing with my coat. The sorceress watched me the way Mother Hazel had when I’d first agreed to let her mentor me. When I’d taken that first step down the path to redemption and she was deciding if I had it in me to go the rest of the way.

  “I’m sorry, Mother Renard.” Dabria pushed herself off the desk and folded her hands in front of her. “I cannot help you. All I can do for you is promise I will not tell the vampire what you’re planning—despite how handsomely he would reward me for such a warning.” She smoothed the skirt of her black dress, drawing my attention to how out of place the fancy gown was in this stark hotel room. “I must insist you leave now. You are no longer safe for me to associate with.”

  I hid my surprise behind a polite smile. “Pity. And I thought we were getting on.”

  “It is nothing personal. I like you. And I do understand your frustration.” Her tone hardened, her eyes growing cold. “But I will not end up like my sister. The vampire has had all the blood he’ll get from this family. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll walk away too.” She shook her head slowly. “My sister thought she could best the prince of Dacia. Don’t make her mistake.”

  I stood and let her escort me to the door. After I opened it, I turned back to her. “One more question?”

  “If you must.”

  “Where were you Friday, January twentieth, around noon?”

  Dabria arched an eyebrow. “That was a couple weeks ago. Let me see…” She tilted her head, then nodded. “Oh, yes, I remember. I was in Dacia…picking up some inventory.” The corner of her mouth quirked up. “You’ll understand if I can’t give you specifics?”

  I nodded. Peasblossom should have had time to sneak out, so I left and let the sorceress close the door behind me. My heart pounded and I looked down, praying my familiar was there. Peasblossom beamed up at me, then held her arms up.

  I smiled back and scooped her into my hand, putting her on my shoulder before retreating down the hall toward the elevator.

  “You think you’re clever, don’t you?” she said, settling underneath my hair. “Trying to bait her into offering to rob Anton.”

 

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