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She raised an eyebrow. "The Directorate knows more than I presumed."

I smiled thinly. "They always do." I crossed my arms and leaned on my knees. "So what are the chances of you drawing me a map of Starr's estate?"

She smiled. "Already done. It's yours the minute you agree to all my terms."

"I thought we had?"

"Not quite."

"Then what else do you want?" But even as I asked the question, I knew. She was a mother missing her child. It was natural she'd be top of the list.

"Before you take Starr out, I want my daughter out of there."

"That will warn him something is happening."

Her blue eyes bored into mine. Determined. Furious.

Scared. It was the last one that got to me. Made me trust her. She needed my help, and until I got her daughter out, I could at least depend on her to keep her end of the bargain.

"That is a risk you must take, because I will not help, otherwise. He has her wired—the minute he senses anything out of the ordinary, he will kill her. I will stay and help, if you insist, but she must be taken out of there, regardless of the cost."

"No," Jack said. "I will not risk the mission for the sake of a clone's child."

I didn't say anything. Couldn't say anything, because anger had become a block in my throat. Starr might be a bastard, but in many respects, so was Jack. For God's sake, it was a tiny baby we were talking about. It deserved a chance of life, no matter who its mother was.

And, of course, my own dodgy future with conception only made me all the more sympathetic—and Jack should have known me well enough to guess that.

I stared at Dia for a few seconds longer, then reached across the coffee table and squeezed her hand, just the once. Her answering smile was one of relief.

"Everything else we will agree to," I said, for Jack's benefit.

Dia nodded. "Then I will give you the plans to study, but destroy them afterward. The bus for our recruited fighters leaves the old St. Kilda train station at two this afternoon. A man named Roscoe will meet you."

I raised my eyebrows. "You're not going to be there tonight?"

She smiled thinly. "No. I have one more night of whore recruitment. But I will see you tomorrow."

"Why is he collecting so many women this time?"

She hesitated. "Because it is a gathering."

"A gathering?"

She nodded. "Every major person in his cartel will be there."

"Holy crap, we've hit the jackpot," Jack said. "This is fantastic!"

If it was so fantastic, why did I suddenly feel sick? Maybe because Starr wouldn't be taking such a risk unless the prize at the end of it was worth it. Or maybe it was simply a matter of the shark-infested pond I was diving into suddenly getting a whole lot more dangerous. And I wasn't sure if I was ready for a mission of that magnitude.

Not that I intended backing out. Even if Jack would let me back out.

"Why is he calling in his generals?"

"Because he plans his war against the other syndicates."

"In a month," I said, suddenly remembering Dia's message to Gautier. "When the Directorate lies in your control."

Her gaze swept me. "How did you guess?"

"Fledging clairvoyance skills," I muttered, and rubbed a hand across my eyes. "We have to stop him."

"Yes." She hesitated. "Starr and his lieutenants have their very own, very secure floor under the mansion, and it is fitted with all the latest scanners. It is there he'll meet his people and plan his war. You will not get anywhere near it. Your best bet is the arena, winning the attentions of Alden and Leo, and reading their minds every night. If you can."

And that "if" seemed to be getting bigger and bigger every time I thought about it. I grabbed my backpack and stood up. "The plans?"

She rose and moved to the mantelpiece to pick up a notebook and several rolled-up sheets of paper. "Everything I know about security is in here." She handed me the book and the papers. "The other item is the contract you are supposed to have signed on recruitment. It's basically a work agreement and terms. The others will have read it."

"Then I'd better, too."

She nodded. "And in answer to your earlier question about my sight, I have assistance to help me see when I am outside the boundaries of this house."

I raised my eyebrows. "What type of assistance?"

"If you knew Misha as well as you have said, then you will know of the Fravardin."

I nodded. The Fravardin were guardian spirits Misha had met and enlisted when he'd been in the Middle East. "He never did tell me how he'd managed to get their services, though."

She smiled. "He saved them. Now they are indebted to him, and honor bound to following his wishes, even after his death."

One of his apparent wishes was the Fravardin protecting me, but I hadn't sensed the creatures, let alone met one face-to-face. If you could meet a spirit creature face-to-face, that was. "How is that related to your sight?"

"One of the Fravardin was placed in my service. Whenever I go beyond the four walls of this house, he is with me. I am able to connect through his mind and use his eyes."

I snorted softly. "So you were never in clanger last night, even if those vamps hadn't been a setup?"

"No. The Fravardin would have taken care of any real threat."

Which was a warning as much as it was a statement. "Then why couldn't you use the Fravardin to take out Starr and rescue your daughter?"

"Because he is my eyes, and my bodyguard when required, but nothing more. Risa is my child, but she does not fall within his guardianship role."

"So they're sticklers for obeying Misha's wishes to the word?"

"Yes."

Then maybe I wouldn't feel the Fravardin's presence until my life was in danger. But how would it know if it wasn't around? And did I really want an answer to that, especially if it meant putting my life on the line to find out?

The answer was a resounding no.

"Why would Misha give you one of the Fravardin? I thought the five of you were less than friendly with each other."

She smiled. "That is true up to a point. But Misha and I shared more of a history than the others. I suppose you could say that he is my brother."

"You're his sister?" I said, incredulously. "But… aren't you all clones?"

She nodded. "Yes, but Misha and I are clones of siblings. Our original selves were born of a Helki mother and silver pack father, and were fraternal twins, born of the same mother and father. If a clone is capable of sibling love, then I guess we shared that. I miss him."

"So—" I paused, trying to gather my suddenly scattered thoughts. "If you're clones of siblings, does it mean that, like the originals, you are both able to shift shape?"

She raised a pale eyebrow. "What makes you ask that?"

"Simple curiosity." I'd wondered when I'd first found out about the Helkis and their shapeshifting abilities if Misha might have had another form—wondered whether the body he wore all the time was really his. Of course, he was dead and it really didn't matter anymore, but still, part of me wanted to know. Especially when his "sister" had the potential to either make or break our mission. My gaze went to her blue eyes—eyes that were so very different to his. Deliberately so, probably. "Misha told me that shape-shifting took a lot of power, and that the eyes were the hardest part to maintain. So which of you is closest to your real form, and how could he—and you—maintain the changes day in and day out?"