I got out of the car and walked up to the keypad. Leon had the family version of the code, but mine was the Deputy Warden sequence. I entered it.
Leon rolled down his window. “I waited as instructed.”
The gates slid open with a clang. The lights on the keypad blinked but remained a steady lemon-yellow.
I was right. Linus’ house thought it was under attack. The moment an intruder crossed the property line, Linus’ defense turrets would sprout out of the innocuous-looking lawn like some lethal mushrooms and pulverize the offender into a pile of smoking meat. Linus was a hephaestus mage. He built devastating weapons out of random trash and duct tape. His defense systems were second to none.
Alessandro got out of the car.
The wrought iron gates stood wide open, like the mandibles of some beast ready to grind us between its teeth. Theoretically, the system would recognize me and Alessandro. Theoretically, it wouldn’t kill us. Unfortunately, we’d never tested that theory under battle conditions.
“Do we go in?” Leon asked.
“I go in,” Alessandro said. “The two of you stay here.”
“I don’t think so,” I told him.
“There is no reason for both of us to go.”
“You’re right. I should go by myself. It’s my responsibility as the Deputy.”
“It’s my responsibility to protect the Deputy.” Alessandro’s tone said the discussion was over.
“That’s why we’ll go together.”
Leon sighed. “I guess I’ll just stay here. Watching you get inside or get turned into human hamburger meat.”
I could have done without that visual.
The longer we waited, the worse things would be.
Deep breath.
I took a step toward the gates. Alessandro strode next to me and took my hand. “Slow and steady. It’s a walk in the park.”
We walked past the gates and down the circular driveway, keeping our pace measured. The grounds looked perfectly ordinary. No signs of battle. Nothing out of place.
No sudden movements. No holding your breath. The system had our biometrics, but biometric scanners were notoriously unreliable.
Two months ago, I’d watched Linus test one of his turrets. He’d fired at an armored car with a ballistic dummy in it. The stream of bullets cut through the armor, nearly slicing the vehicle in half. When he was done, the ballistic dummy was no more. There was just mush. Thick gelatinous mush.
Alessandro’s strong warm fingers held mine. “Almost there.”
Slow and steady, around the fountain in a pretty flower bed, up the stairs, to the front door. Just another day in the life of a Deputy Warden.
We stepped onto the porch. I raised my head, looking straight into the hidden camera. If Linus was inside, he would let me in.
Nothing.
If this was a test, I would turn around, go straight home, and refuse to speak with Linus until he apologized. It wouldn’t matter if the sky started raining the Osiris serum. I would get a genuine, heartfelt apology.
I punched the code into the sophisticated lock and pressed my thumb against the fingerprint pad.
A distant motor whirred, followed by a metal clang.
The lock clicked.
Alessandro put his hand on the door handle.
Breathe, breathe, nice and calm.
The door swung open, and we slipped inside.
The cavernous grand foyer stretched in front of us, full of shadows. Motorized blinds blocked the windows, and the only illumination came through a stained-glass dome high above. White venetian plaster on the walls, a double staircase wrapping around another fountain directly under the dome, three empty doorways, one to the left, leading to guest bedrooms and the garage, one straight ahead, into the dining room, and the last, to the right, opening into the hallway that terminated in Linus’ study.
Alessandro stepped in front of me. We stood quietly, listening, waiting. The house was as silent as a tomb except for the quiet splashing of the fountain.
Alessandro pointed to the left and slightly back, his gaze sweeping the house in front of us. I moved in that direction, into the murky corner between two columns, and pressed the hidden sensor. A section of the wall slid aside, revealing a control panel with all its lights off. I’d have to speak while facing it. My back would be presenting a great target to anyone hiding inside. Adrenaline spurred my heart rate.
I held my arm out and pushed with my magic, forcing it through the bone and muscle of my forearm. An orange glow shone through my skin, forming a circle of a braided vine with a five-point star in its center. A spot between my shoulder blades itched, expecting a bullet.
“Catalina Baylor, Deputy Warden.”
The panel lit up with green, the small display flaring into life. Access granted. I exhaled and typed in my code. A prompt popped up, warning me that siege protocols were in effect. I had two choices, CANCEL, which would take me back to the previous menu, or DEACTIVATE. I chose DEACTIVATE.
The panel flashed with red. I had expected some noise, something to announce it, but the house stayed quiet. No metal clanging, no machinery moving, no sirens, only a word on the display: DISARMED.
I took my phone out and texted Leon.
Clear.
Moments ticked by.
The front door opened, and Leon strode through, carrying a SIG Sauer.
The air around Alessandro’s right hand sparked with orange for a fraction of a second. An identical gun materialized in his fingers.
Leon stalked left, while Alessandro started right, toward the study. I followed Alessandro. We passed through the doorway, through the short hallway, and Alessandro walked into the study. He stopped, blocking my view, moved to the left, and motioned me in. I entered.
On the right, Pete, Linus’ bodyguard, sprawled on the antique Persian rug. He’d fallen on his side in a crumpled heap with his face turned toward us. His lips were black. His eyes were open wide, milky and dead. A dark pattern of jagged lines marked his face, spreading from his eyes across his skin to his hairline.
Shock splashed me in an icy wave.
I’d known Pete for almost a year. He picked me up when Linus wanted to see me, he drove me around to my assignments when I needed it, and he would have put himself between me and any threat without hesitation. I just saw him last week. I’d brought him and Linus a cranberry tart I made. They’d shared it, and Pete told me I had to stop wasting my life on trivial things like being a Warden Deputy and dedicate myself to my true calling, which was making delicious desserts. And now he was dead.
I crouched by him. It felt like someone else was moving my body for me. Slowly, I pushed his right shoulder. Full rigor. He’d been dead longer than a few hours, but less than a day.
The network of lines on his face bulged from his skin. It looked like blood, old blood, somehow forced into a pattern and darkened to near black.
Alessandro moved next to me. His hand rested on my shoulder, the warm strength of his fingers reassuring.
Funny, protective Pete was dead. There was nothing I could do. But Linus was still missing. Until we found his body, there was still hope.
I got up.
Alessandro met my gaze. We talked without saying a word.
Okay?
Yes.
We moved across the study to the corner. I pushed my hand against the wooden panel decorating the wall and waited for the sensor to pick up my presence. A motor purred inside the walls and the wooden panel slid aside, revealing a stone shaft twelve feet across. Stone stairs wound down along the wall, wrapping around a fireman’s pole that stretched to the bottom floor. A dark red smear stained the metal of the pole.
Alessandro descended the stairs, quiet as a ghost. I followed.
We went down and around, three floors deep. The stairs terminated in a wide hallway. On the left, a wire cage guarded access to the freight elevator. On the right, a massive steel door barred the way to the workshop and weapon vault. A trail of blood drops led to it. Red smudges marred the control panel on the wall to the left.