In the whole house, save for where the killings had been committed, nothing was disturbed. Nothing was stolen.
They went back downstairs, and Zsadist quickly examined the bodies while Phury ran a check on the security system’s master board out by the garage.
When he was finished, he went back to his twin. “I hacked into the alarms. Nothing was triggered or circumvented either through a code or a power outage.”
“Wallet’s not on the male,” Z said, “but the guy’s Ebel is still on his wrist. Female has her diamond on her finger and a pair of dime-sized flashers in her earlobes.”
Phury put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “Two infiltrations, here and at the clinic. Both with no looting.”
“At least we know how they found this place. I mean, shit, Lash was abducted and tortured until he talked. Only way. He wouldn’t have had ID on him when he was taken from the clinic, so the addy had to have come from his own mouth.”
Phury looked around at all the art on the walls. “Something ’s just not right here. Normally they’d be looting.”
“But assuming they took the father’s wallet, the real assets are no doubt in the bank. If they can get access to those accounts, it would be a cleaner way to rob.”
“But why leave all this shit?”
“Where are you?” Rhage’s voice echoed through the foyer.
“In here,” Z called out.
“We have to let the other families in the glymera know,” Phury said. “If Lash has given up his own address, God only knows what else was peeled out of him. This could be a leak of unprecedented implications.”
Butch and Rhage walked into the room and the cop shook his head. “Shit, this takes me right back to Homicide.”
“Man…” Hollywood sighed.
“Do we know how they got in?” the cop asked, walking around the table.
“No, but let’s go through the house again,” Phury said. “I just can’t believe they walked right through the front door.”
When the four of them got upstairs to Lash’s room, they were all shaking their heads.
Phury looked around the room, his brain churning. “We’ve got to get word out.”
“Well, look at this,” Z murmured, nodding to a window.
Down at the foot of the driveway, a car turned in. Then another. Then a third.
“There’s your looters,” the brother said.
“Fuckers,” Rhage bit out with a grim smile. “But at least they have good timing-I need to work off dinner.”
“And it’d be so damn rude not to greet them at the door,” Butch muttered.
Instinctively, Phury reached to open his coat, but then remembered there were no guns or daggers to get to.
There was a split second of awkwardness, during which no one would look at him, so he said, “I’ll go back to the compound and contact the other families in the glymera. I’ll also let Wrath know what’s doing.”
The three nodded and jogged for the stairs.
As they pounded down to welcome-wagon the lessers, Phury took one last look around the bedroom, thinking that he wanted to be with the others, killing the sons of bitches who had done this.
The wizard faced off at him in his mind. They won’t fight with you anymore because they can’t trust you. Soldiers don’t want to be backed up by someone they have no faith in.
Face it, mate, you’re finished on this side. The question is, how long until you ruin it with the Chosen?
Just as Phury was about to dematerialize, he frowned.
Across the way, on the dresser, there was a smudge of something on one of the brass drawer pulls.
He went over for a closer look. Dark brown… it was dried blood.
When he opened the drawer, there were bloody finger-prints on the objects inside: the Jacob amp; Co. iced-out watch Lash had worn before his transition had smudges on it, and so did a diamond chain and a heavy stud earring. Something had obviously been taken out of the little drawer, but why would a lesser leave such expensive things behind? It was hard to imagine what would be worth more than all those diamonds and still fit in a small space.
Phury glanced around at the Sony VAIO laptop and the iPod… and the dozen other drawers in the room that were divvied up between the desk and the bureau and the bedside tables. All of them were closed tight.
“You have to leave.”
Phury turned around. Z was standing in the doorway, gun drawn.
“Get the fuck out of here, Phury. You’re not armed.”
“I could be.” He glanced over at the desk where a couple of knives lay on the textbooks. “In a heartbeat.”
“Go.” Z bared his fangs. “You’re not helping here.”
The first sounds of the fighting drifted up the staircase in a series of grunts and barked curses.
As his twin took off to defend the race, Phury watched Z go. Then he dematerialized from Lash’s bedroom, bound for the desk in the training center’s office.
Chapter Thirty
"You need to rest,” Cormia said as Bella yawned again.
Fritz had just come in and taken away their First Meal dishes. Bella had had steak and mashed potatoes and mint-chocolate -chip ice cream. Cormia had had the potatoes… and some of the ice cream.
And she’d thought the M amp;M’s had been delightful?
Bella snuggled more deeply into her pillows. “You know, I think you’re right. I am tired. Maybe we can finish up the marathon later tonight?”
“Sounds lovely.” Cormia slid off the bed. “Do you need anything?”
“No.” Bella’s eyes closed. “Hey, before you go. What are those candles made of? They are incredibly soothing.”
The female seemed awfully pale against her white lace pillowcase. “They’re made of sacred things from the other side. Sacred, healing things. Herbs and flowers mixed with a binding made with water from the Scribe Virgin’s fountain.”
“I knew they were special.”
“I’m not going to be far,” Cormia blurted.
“Which is good.”
As Cormia stepped out of the room, she was careful to shut the door quietly.
“Madam?”
She looked behind her. "Fritz? I thought you’d left with the tray.”
“I did.” He lifted the bouquet he was holding. “I needed to deliver these.”
“What lovely flowers.”
“They are for the second-floor sitting room.” He plucked out a lavender rose and offered it forward. “For you, mistress.”
“Why, thank you.” She took the delicate petals to her nose. “Oh, how lovely.”
Cormia jumped as something brushed her leg.
Bending down, she ran her hand over the black cat’s silky, resilient back. “Why, hello, Boo.”
The cat purred and leaned into her, his surprisingly strong body shifting her weight.
“Do you care for roses?” she asked him, offering him the bloom.
Boo shook his head and nudged at her free hand, demanding more attention.
“I adore this cat.”
“And he adores you,” Fritz said, then hesitated. “Mistress, if I may…”
“What is it?”
“The master Phury is down in the training center’s of fice, and I believe he could use some company. Perhaps you would-”
The cat let out a loud meow, trotted over in the direction of the grand staircase, and flicked his tail. It seemed as if, had he had arms and hands, he would have been pointing down to the foyer.
The butler laughed. “I think his lordship Boo agrees.”
The cat meowed again.
Cormia tightened her grip on the rose’s stem as she stood up. Maybe this was a good thing. She needed to tell the Primale that she was leaving. “I should like to see his grace, but are you sure now is the-”
“Good, good! I shall take you to him.”
The butler trotted off to the sitting room and returned a moment later. As he came back, there was a spring in his step and a glow to his face, as if he were doing a job he enjoyed.