Victoria Tremaine’s granddaughter would’ve done it. Should have done it. But I was Catalina Baylor.
I couldn’t hurt him. I felt like crying from the sheer strain of it.
The truck in front of us slammed on the brakes. Alessandro braked hard, throwing an arm in front of me.
I would treat this as a professional partnership. Linus ordered me to work with Alessandro, after all. I would do what I had to do, and I would never let Alessandro or anyone else know what it cost me.
“Marat’s expecting me tomorrow at ten. Would you like to join me?”
“Yes,” he said.
“My family hates you. If they try to provoke you, don’t injure them.”
“I won’t,” he said.
“They don’t know I am a Deputy. They do know that I work for Linus, and that my assignments are government-related and confidential. They know I can’t refuse the jobs he gives me. They accept it, they help me, and they don’t ask questions. Please don’t put them in danger by saying too much.”
It didn’t hurt that being a Deputy Warden paid exceptionally well. Linus had failed to mention that part when he deputized me. When the first wire had landed in our account, I’d almost had a heart attack.
“I promise,” he said.
“Give me your number.”
He rattled it off and I added it to my contact list.
He turned the corner. Our guardhouse swung into view, lit up by floodlights. Alessandro brought the Spider to a smooth stop. He parked and moved to get out of the car.
“No need. I can open my own door.”
“Tomorrow,” he said.
“Yes. See you tomorrow.”
I got out of the car and headed to the guardhouse. I felt like I was bruised from the inside out.
Things would be so easy if it wasn’t for feelings.
Chapter 5
I walked to the window of the security booth and pressed my hand against the glass in the designated circle where small round holes had been drilled in the bulletproof glass. The tinted windows hid the two guards inside, and I felt slightly vulnerable.
“Password?” a clipped male voice demanded through the speaker.
“Manhunters from Venus.” Leon was in charge of the daily passphrases and he’d been working his way through the masters of sword and planet science fiction.
“Welcome home, Ms. Baylor.”
“Thank you, Samir.”
Metal clanged and a section of the barrier slid down. I walked through the gap and up the street, to the three-story brick building that served as our temporary base.
When my father was dying of cancer, Mom sold our house to pay for his medical bills. Grandma Frida did the same, and we moved into a warehouse together, which we had split into an office, living space, and a motor pool for Grandma Frida’s armored car and mobile artillery business.
The warehouse was no more. Six months ago, an assassin attacked us and I caught him in an arcane circle. The spell failed to contain our combined magic, and the overflow exploded our home. If I craned my neck, I could see the empty lot where it had stood, and the guilt bit at me every time.
We had to stay somewhere, so Connor, who had bought up roughly two miles of real estate around the warehouse to keep Nevada and us safe when they were investigating the Sturm-Charles conspiracy, sold us one of the larger buildings and the three structures around it for the princely sum of one dollar. We tried to reason with him, but he refused to name a reasonable price, and we needed a place to stay, so I said thank you and took it. It allowed us to concentrate on hiring a new security force and banking money for a new house.
It also established a strong public link between our Houses. When I had become the official Head of the House after turning twenty-one, I’d fought tooth and nail to keep our two Houses separate in public view. I didn’t want us to be seen as a vassal House to House Rogan. Now my priorities had changed. Once Victoria Tremaine took an interest in your life, nothing was the same.
Leon’s Shelby was in his parking space. The other three family cars occupied their spots as well, and a big silver Range Rover took up the visitor’s spot. June, a compact white woman, leaned against the wall by the door. My older sister was in residence.
June nodded at me. She was short, with broad shoulders and muscular arms that showed definition even when she relaxed. Her caramel hair was pulled back from her face into a short braid. She was Nevada’s personal aegis, a shield mage. If someone shot at my sister, June’s magic would block the projectiles. Asking her to come inside was pointless. She would guard the door no matter what anybody said. I nodded back at her, punched the code into the lock, and stepped inside.
In its past life, this building served as an office, which worked for us on a business level, but wasn’t great for our living arrangements. I walked past the receptionist counter, made a left, and headed down a long hallway to what was once the cafeteria and now was our kitchen. Ahead, bright electric lights and loud voices told me the family was up. Kind of late for dinner . . .
A little black shadow padded out of the kitchen and streaked to me, her tail wagging so hard, she nearly went airborne.
I scooped my dog up. Shadow licked my face, her whole body wiggling. My chest tightened. Suddenly heat warmed the backs of my eyes.
Noises drifted from the kitchen, excited chatter, the sound of forks and knives on plates, the clatter of glasses being picked up and set back down. The air smelled of spicy meat and baked taco shells.
I hugged Shadow to me and stuck my face into her fur, trying to get myself under control. I couldn’t walk in there crying.
Leon said something I didn’t catch. Grandma Frida laughed.
It was fine. It had been a long day with many sharp turns, that was all. I was just tired.
Shadow twisted around in my arms. Hot tongue brushed my cheek. The tight knot in my chest dissolved. I squeezed her to me and set her down on the floor. She wagged her tail. I didn’t have to do anything to make my little black dog happy. I just had to come home.
The urge to cry passed, and my brain woke up. I had things to do and the first on that list was to verify what Alessandro had told me. He didn’t lie to me. That kind of emotional storm would be impossible to fake. But I wanted to see things for myself.
His father died at a wedding less than twenty years ago. Any wedding attended by a Prime would be special enough to be filmed.
I pulled out my phone and stepped into one of the front rooms that served as our office. Shadow bounded in after me. I shut the door and texted Bug.
Are you busy?
Bug worked as Connor and Nevada’s surveillance specialist. A swarmer implanted with arcane magic, he processed visual information at superhuman speed.
The phone chimed. Not particularly.
I need a quick search and I don’t want anyone to know.
Shoot.
I paused, trying to organize my thoughts. Shadow made circles around my feet, sniffing at my borrowed shoes.
I need to know about a wedding. It took place fifteen years ago, probably in Italy. The best man was Marcello Sagredo. I need to confirm he was murdered during this wedding. There might be a recording.
My phone rang. I answered.
“Is he right there next to you?” Bug roared into the phone. “Is that spoiled moneyfucker in the room with you now, Catalina?”
“No, because he died fifteen years ago.”
“That’s not who I mean, and you know it. He came back, didn’t he? Let me guess, he’s in trouble and he needs you to save him.”