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“Five minutes, no more,” a female voice said.
“Do you want this done right? If so, shut up.”
“We want what we paid you for.”
“And you’ll get it. Once I start, don’t interrupt. You don’t want to make things worse.” He finished the design, stepped into the circle, and closed his eyes.
Orange light dashed through the chalk lines and faded to a dull glow, throwing eerie highlights onto Christian’s face.
The first desperate scream tore through the air.
On the screen, Albert’s father smiled.
“Cascade . . .” Albert murmured, squinting at the circle. “You used our House spell.”
A torrent of magic tore out of Christian. It smashed into my defenses and broke against my mental wall like waves on a rock. He recoiled, stunned.
“Not strong enough,” I told him.
“Dad!” Albert thrust himself between us. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Shut. Up.” Christian hammered each word into the ground.
I walked over to one of the overstuffed chairs, sat down into it, and crossed one leg over the other.
“Why the hell would you do this?” Albert snarled. “Not only is your face on video, but the entire design of Cascade can be made out. All they have to do is call any local Prime psionic, and they’ll recognize it. Attacking her isn’t going to fix this.”
House spells were specific to each House, complex and closely guarded. Magic talents were like fingerprints, unique. Victoria and Nevada were both truthseekers, but even though they were related by blood, the exact nature of their talents differed slightly. Circles developed by a specific family wouldn’t work as well for anyone else because they were precisely attuned to the magic of that particular bloodline. When Christian had drawn Cascade on that board, he’d damned himself.
“If this gets out, we’re finished as a House.” Albert raised his arms. “We don’t need the money. Did you owe someone a favor? Were you blackmailed? Why?”
“Because I wanted to.” Christian’s expression turned dark, his cheeks flushed, his mouth a furious slash across his face.
The oldest reason in the book. All psionics restrained themselves. Their talents had no purpose outside of military applications or the rare cases civilian law enforcement required crowd control. There were memes online that showed random sad people with the caption “Psionic waiting for a riot.” They felt the pull to use their magic just as much as any of us, and they had turned practicing personal restraint into a religion.
“You wanted to?” Albert dropped his arms to his sides, slapping his legs. “Are we animals, Father? Do we have no self-control? Did you not drill the Mantra of the Psionic into me since before I could talk?”
“We have a bigger problem.” Christian stared at me. If looks were blades, I’d be a pincushion.
“You’re not strong enough,” I repeated. I knew exactly how I looked, slightly bored, emotionless, my expression icy.
Christian trembled, struggling to contain his rage. He’d sunk everything into that first attack. If it had hit me right after the Pit, I would have shattered and run for my life, straight into traffic, off some roof, or into the water. Whatever was handy. But I’d had time to recover.
“Who else knows?” Christian squeezed out through his teeth.
When I’d realized Albert was serious about marriage and he would not go away, I asked Bern to run a background check on the family. He came across an old business partnership between Samantha Corners’ sister and Christian Ravenscroft’s distant cousin. Other people had looked into Christian’s background, but none of them were Bern. Being a pattern mage, Bern had put the pieces together and then dug in other people’s personal computers until he found the recording two months ago.
“The Special Consul for the Department of Justice. You will be offered an under-the-table deal. Samantha Corners was a go-between, but she didn’t sign the check. They want the people who hired you.”
Albert stared at me. “He incited a crowd to violence, and they’re willing to make a deal? He murdered people.”
“They’re offering a deal because if this recording became public, it could spark civil unrest. The impact on psionics, in general, would be catastrophic. The National Assembly wants to protect psionics. The Department of Justice wants to avoid riots and further loss of life. They came to an agreement in the interest of the greater good.”
This deal left a bad taste in my mouth. Linus had explained it to me, after I brought him the recording, and he hadn’t even tried to put a pretty bow on it. He had predicted this outcome so precisely that I wondered how many times something like this had happened before. Two weeks later I had official confirmation from him. They would make a deal with a murderer.
Christian leaned on his desk as if he were about to climb over it. If I were within arm’s reach, he would have choked me to death. “How do you know all of this? You’re nobody.”
“That’s not important.”
“What are the terms of the deal?” Albert asked.
I pointed at Christian. “He’s done. Out.”
“Excision?” Albert turned pale.
I nodded. “He will testify as a disguised witness, you’ll be permitted to retain all assets, and his excision will take place before a sealed committee of the Assembly.”
Albert turned to his father, then back to me.
“I’m here for information,” I said. “If you don’t give me what I want, I’ll upload this video to every major streaming platform. Once it goes public, people will howl for blood and you can kiss your deal goodbye. The Assembly will rip you to shreds in retaliation. Your House won’t recover. If you attempt to harm or detain me, I’ll lobotomize you and then I will upload the video. If you shoot me right now, the video still gets uploaded and my House will murder everyone you love.”
Christian swore.
Albert turned to me, his eyes wide. “Who are you?”
“Also not important.”
“My father wouldn’t tell anyone about Leon. He wouldn’t even remember something like that.”
“Oh I think he did.”
“Why does it even matter?”
“Someone is targeting my House, Albert. You have one minute to think it over.”
“I wanted to marry you,” Albert whispered.
I wanted to say I was sorry. I wanted to hug him and tell him it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but any weakness on my part, any hint of kindness or compassion, and Christian would slip from my fingers.
I let my magic pour out of me. When I compelled people to fall in love with me, my wings were glorious, green and gold and shimmering. The wings that grew from my back now were black. The tips of my feathers glowed with crimson, as if I’d dipped my wings in blood. This was the other side of the coin. I’d learned I had it after Alessandro left, when I was in a dark place and wanted to be left alone. Leon had pestered me during dinner one night, I lost control, and the black wings made their debut. The family was stunned into silence for a whole thirty seconds. And then everyone called me Goth Princess for a week and Arabella kept leaving vampire novels by my door.
My wings stretched, huge, black, intimidating. I couldn’t actually do anything with them, the way I could use my other wings to entice, but they looked impressive.
Both men took a step back.
“I don’t think we would be a good match, Albert. Twenty seconds.”
“He doesn’t know anything,” Albert insisted.
“Ten seconds.”
Christian slumped in his chair. “All right.”
Albert frowned. “You told someone about her cousin?”
“I was approached at the club. A young telekinetic walked up to me on the green.”
“How do you know he was a telekinetic?” I asked.
Christian sneered at me. “He didn’t have to physically retrieve his balls.”
“When did this happen?”
“Last Saturday.”
Arkan’s people moved fast. “What did he ask?”
Christian sighed. “He asked if I was interested in removing you from my son’s life, and I said yes.”
Albert sat down in the chair and slumped forward on his right elbow on the armrest, his forehead on his fist. “This is a nightmare,” he said, his voice almost cheerful. “I’m going to wake up any minute, won’t I, Father? Why did you sabotage my relationship?”
“Because you could do better!”
Albert pointed to me. “Better than that? There’s a fucking angel of death in your study and you thought I could do better?”
“I didn’t have all the information at the time. She wouldn’t give you the time of day. I was sick of watching you chase after her like some lovesick puppy.”
“Did I ask for your help?”
“I am your father! I look after your future! They’re an upstart House, and Victoria Tremaine will rip them to shreds when she gets out.”
“My grandmother trusted me to handle this matter,” I said. “I’m here instead of her as a courtesy to Albert because of our friendship. House Tremaine doesn’t suffer fools, Mr. Ravenscroft. Don’t be one.”
