He was probably close to forty, but it was hard to tell. His hair, a deep brown, umber shade, was cut just long enough to style, although he hadn’t bothered. No gray yet. He had probably started his day clean-shaven this morning, but now a five o’clock shadow darkened his square jaw. A tall forehead, prominent nose, full mouth, and dark green eyes under thick eyebrows. Not a conventionally handsome face, but a powerful one. The kind of face that would make you rethink your strategy.
The green eyes took my measure. He had an unsettling, direct gaze, as if he were looking at something specific inside you. Barrett Shaw. In the flesh.
I stared back, trying to look blank. Look all you want. There is nothing to see here.
Jushur’s son stood to the side at parade rest, his undead sitting by him.
Barrett smiled. It was a pleasant, affable smile. Perfectly cordial. “Welcome to the Farm.”
“Thank you.”
One of the vampires sprinted at full speed toward me, its eyes red.
Cute.
The undead slid to a stop a couple of inches from my feet. I held out the will-o’-wisp cage and nodded at Barrett.
“Your parcel. Claudia Ozburn says hello.”
“She always sends the nicest things.”
The undead took the cage from me and carried it off.
Barrett Shaw was still smiling.
I should’ve flinched when the undead ran at me. Most people would’ve flinched. I was positioning myself as either a merc or a knight of the Order. Vampire removal wasn’t something mercs did often, and a knight would’ve called him on his bullshit or taken a defensive stance. Either way, I should’ve reacted.
Even if I had tried to fake a reaction, it would’ve been obvious. My acting skills were severely lacking.
Barrett wasn’t speaking. Ryan Kelly, a Master of the Dead from Atlanta, once referred to him as Gator Mouth, and now I knew why. That warm smile was a tornado siren, announcing a whirlwind of destruction coming my way. This had become about me, and I needed to deflect his attention and get access to Onyx, because he was our only link to Darin. I had to explain why I hadn’t freaked out.
“How do you like it? The Farm? Did Rimush give you a tour on the way here?”
An idea popped into my brain. It was a terrible idea, but it was the only one I could think of. “It’s very organized. Even the cohorts are color-coded.”
Despite the name, the Golden Legion didn’t have cohorts, and neither did the People. There was only one military force accustomed to dealing with vampires that used the term cohorts.
Take the bait, take the bait, take the bait…
Barrett’s affable expression stayed pleasant. “You’re a long way from Kentucky.”
I blinked a couple of times to indicate surprise. Kate the Thespian. Hand me my Oscar. “Well, that didn’t take long. The Preceptor and I parted ways.”
“And why is that?”
“I’ve got a problem with authority.”
Hugh’s Iron Dogs used to be my father’s counterpoint to the Golden Legion. His left and right arms, trained to kill each other if necessary. Hugh was now an independent operator, and if Barrett checked with him—which was highly unlikely—he would cover for me. As soon as I got home, I would have to call Hugh and let him know. He’d get a good laugh out of this, the jackass.
The intensity of Barrett’s smile eased a little. I had given him a believable story. A former Iron Dog would be a highly trained, skilled, disciplined killing machine. If Claudia became aware of one operating independently, it would make sense that she would try to recruit her. It would also make sense that after walking away from Hugh D’Ambray, said Iron Dog wouldn’t be eager to take orders again, so Claudia would take it easy, by talking her into running an errand or two. Mystery solved.
“Ms. Ozburn is marking her territory,” Barrett said, as if to himself. “Very well. What brings you here?”
“I’m looking for a kidnapped child. Onyx brokered the sale.”
Barrett nodded and looked at the journeyman. “Did you hear that?”
Onyx gave me a defiant stare. “I didn’t do it.”
“Jace gave you up,” I said.
“He’s lying.”
I turned to Barrett and spread my arms.
Barrett rubbed the bridge of his nose. “And this is where you’ve fucked up. You should’ve asked who Jace was. Because there is no reason for you to associate with a mid-level Red Horn boss. But you didn’t. Because we both know you’ve been doing some shady shit. Malone warned you about it, didn’t he?”
Onyx opened his mouth.
“Don’t,” Barrett said. All the pleasantness evaporated from his face in an instant.
Onyx swallowed.
“You brought your shady shit here. To my island. Now there is a mercenary asking questions and the Order is aware of it. You have a fucking problem. How are you going to fix it?”
Panic sparked in Onyx’s eyes. The older of the two remaining vampires charged me.
The world slowed to an underwater crawl. The vampire was coming for me, mouth gaping, fangs ready to bite and tear, driven by Onyx’s rattled mind.
If I killed it, the backlash would fry Onyx, tuning him into a vegetable. He wasn’t taking any precautions, and a sudden ending of the connection between the navigator and the undead destroyed the navigator’s ego.
If I took control of the vampire, I might as well have just cut my vein and started making blood armor right there. Not only would I not save Darin, but I could kiss any hope of a calm life in Wilmington goodbye.
The vamp was almost on me.
I had one chance at this. No do-overs.
I pulled Sarrat from its sheath, grasped the undead’s mind with my magic, ripped it away from Onyx, and let it go, all in the same fraction of a second. The journeyman had no time to react. The vamp’s eyes flared bright red. It was already running, and I was directly in front of it, a convenient target with a heartbeat. It leaped, claws spread for the kill.
I sliced across its forelimbs, spun out of the way, and slashed at its neck, cleaving the head from the body in a single blow.
The beheaded body ran a few more steps and crumpled onto the stone. The head rolled across the arena’s floor.
Onyx stared at the dead vampire, trying to process what had happened. He wasn’t sure who took the vampire away from him. Both Rimush and Barrett were Masters of the Dead. It could’ve been either of them, and now he didn’t know how to react.
I breathed in, slow and deep. If Barrett caught me, there would be hell to pay.
Barrett wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at his journeyman, and his eyes shivered with rage. It had worked. He’d thought Onyx had bailed, abandoning the undead in the middle of the attack, because he got scared that I’d kill it.
“I don’t mind cleaning house,” I said into the silence. “But I have to charge.”
Onyx opened his mouth.
I flicked the blood off my blade. “Who did you sell Darin to?”
He took a step back.
I started toward him. Barrett said nothing. Good for me.
“You’ve broken the First Covenant. The People will not protect you. Tell me where the boy is, and I will spare your life.”
“I didn’t,” Onyx stammered. “I didn’t make him into a vampire. He’s alive.”
“The First Covenant doesn’t just cover making people undead against their will. The First Covenant forbids slavery in all its forms. ‘There must be free will.’ That is the first and most sacred pledge.”
The Shinar had been mostly a free kingdom, but it was also a cosmopolitan place where many travelers did business. My great grandfather had outlawed slavery among Shinar citizens, and yet there had been thousands of slaves in the kingdom, brought there by foreign dignitaries and traders. When my father woke up post-Shift, codifying freedom of choice was his first decision and the first law he passed onto the People.