Stephen was ridiculously handsome. If I didn’t know better, I would have taken him for an illusion Prime. In his early twenties or possibly thirties, he sat on a stool wearing a navy suit with a white shirt and dark blue tie. His dark hair was cut in a fashionable style and brushed back, exposing a broad high forehead. His cheekbones were perfect, his cheeks slightly concave above a square jaw with a strong chin. His nose was narrow, his lips full, and his eyes, dark and piercing, looked at the world with surprising intensity.
He also looked vaguely familiar. For the life of me I couldn’t remember where I’d seen him before. We hadn’t met. I would remember that.
“Yummy,” Lina volunteered, twisting the braid in the back of my head.
“Yes, he’s handsome.” Augustine looked at me. “Almost as handsome as Alessandro Sagredo.”
Grabbing a pen off the desk and stabbing Augustine Montgomery with it wasn’t in the best interest of my House and would significantly hamper my investigation. But I would have enjoyed it.
“And finally . . .”
“Tatyana Pierce,” I finished. “Prime, Pyrokinetic.”
About four years ago, Adam Pierce, the youngest son of House Pierce, handsome and spoiled by his family, involved himself in a political conspiracy, which was now known as the Sturm-Charles conspiracy, and tried to burn down Houston. My older sister, Nevada, and my brother-in-law were the reason the city was still standing, and Adam was now rotting in a high security prison in Alaska. Tatyana Pierce was his sister.
I looked at Tatyana. She was thirty-six years old, with chestnut hair pulled into a loose braid and tossed over one shoulder. Both Adam and Peter, her older brother, were lean, but she was softer, with a rounded face and a generous figure. A beautiful woman, the kind who would turn heads and reduce stainless-steel beams to puddles of glowing metal in seconds. And she hated Connor, Nevada, and our entire family.
This was less than ideal. Much, much less.
“Time’s up.” Augustine rose. “Remember, every participant contributed money to the Pit but the bulk of the investment came from House Morton. The project was plagued with issues from the start. If the flow of that cash stops today, tomorrow the site will become a construction equipment graveyard.”
I pulled the towel off my shoulders. The section of the frosted wall turned into a mirror in front of me. I looked exactly the way I would have chosen to look for this meeting. Well put together, professional, with subtle makeup and my hair out of the way in a complex plait on my neck. Lina’s expertise with cosmetics made me look older. I had let Victoria Tremaine’s granddaughter out of the cage.
“Whoa,” Lina murmured.
“I believe we’re ready.” Augustine waved his hand and the section of the frosted wall slid aside. He invited me to go through. “Please.”
We walked down the underwater hallway side by side.
“Any words of wisdom?” I asked. Augustine enjoyed a mentor role.
“Life is full of surprises,” he said. “Try to cope with grace.”
We entered a small room. Inside two MII employees waited by an elderly white man sitting in a wheelchair. Gaunt, his grey hair cut very short, he stared through me with dark eyes, like an old buzzard defending its carrion. If I showed any weakness at all, he would claw me bloody. Lander Morton. My new employer.
Lander peered at Augustine. “About time. I thought you said it would be a man.”
Augustine shrugged. “She’s better.”
“She looks young. How old are you?”
“Old enough. I’m here because I deliver. Do you want results, or do you want someone who looks the part?”
Lander squinted at me. “She’ll do. Let’s get on with this.”
Augustine nodded. The female employee opened the double doors, revealing a luxury conference room. The four Primes from the publicity photo sat at the table, each with an assistant standing behind them.
Lander motioned me over with a wave of his bony fingers. I stepped closer and bent down.
“One of these fuckers killed my boy,” he told me in a hoarse whisper loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “You find which one of them did it.”
I nodded and straightened.
Lander touched the controls on his chair, and it rolled forward into the room. Augustine and I followed, he on the left and I on the right.
Nobody rose. Clearly, manners were in short supply.
Lander stopped his chair a few feet from the table, peering at the group. Augustine smoothly stepped to the side, out of the way, leaving me and Lander on our own.
“Our deepest condolences,” Cheryl said. She sounded like she meant it.
“Save it,” Lander snapped at her. “You all know why we’re here. My son is dead and the contract you signed obligates you to cooperate with the inquest into his death. Montgomery will handle the investigation. This is his girl. She’ll be doing the grunt work. I expect you to talk to her or I’ll haul you before the Assembly so fast, you’ll piss yourselves.”
Marat began to rise. “Who do you think—”
“Also,” Lander’s voice cracked like a whip. “If you give the girl any trouble, you won’t get another dime out of my House. In case you forgot, my House is bankrolling most of this project.”
Tatyana put her hand on Marat’s forearm. He sat back down.
“House Jiang extends its deepest regrets for the loss of the heir,” Stephen said. “Should you take some time to mourn and make the necessary arrangements, we will extend you every courtesy.”
Lander swiveled toward him. “Fuck your regrets.”
Stephen blinked.
“I have more money than all of you put together,” Lander announced. “I can tie this up in court for years. It will give me something to live for.”
Cheryl cleared her throat. “Of course we will cooperate fully. The sooner the cause of this tragedy is discovered, the better. As much as it pains me, I must point out that Felix was involved in every aspect of the project and often served as tiebreaker during our votes. Will you be taking over for him?”
“I’m old,” Lander said. “My health isn’t good. I have doctors and grandchildren to keep happy. This project needs someone young with a good head on his shoulders. Someone none of you can influence.”
Marat opened his mouth. Lander glared at him, and Marat clamped it shut.
“You’ll appoint a proxy?” Tatyana asked.
“Yes. It’s my right.”
The sound of quick steps echoed through the open doors.
“That would be him now,” Lander said.
A dark-haired man walked through the doorway, gliding as if his joints were liquid. All the air went out of the room. I tried to take a breath but there was none to be had.
“My apologies,” Alessandro Sagredo said with a charming Italian accent. “So sorry to be late.”
Augustine Montgomery was a dead man. He just didn’t know it yet.
Alessandro looked straight at me. Our stares connected and for a split second my brain ground to a halt. I couldn’t think, I could only feel, and what I felt was intense, searing rage.
I couldn’t afford to react.
Tiny orange flames sparked in his irises and vanished. Nobody else saw it. His expression remained perfectly neutral.
Why? He had the entire world at his disposal. He could have gone anywhere, but he came back here, to my city. It hurt to look at him. It hurt to remember him holding me, because when he wrapped his arms around me, he made me feel safe, and loved, and wanted. All that and he left, without apology, without explanation. He’d made it absolutely clear that I didn’t matter and now he was back, the son of a bitch, as if nothing had happened.
Alessandro walked to Lander’s left side and bent to him, an expression of utmost concern on his handsome face. “How are you feeling today, Zio?”