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“If we could get him to confess, it would make it so much easier.” I didn’t like the thought of Gambit on trial. There were too many things that could go wrong in a rape trial. Even with a serial rapist. Alfina was a gorgeous woman; the mindset that a woman deserved what she got was still far too ingrained in society—both Earthside and parts of Otherworld.
“That’s not likely to happen. Unless…” Chase jumped up. “Wait here.”
As he left the room, I opened the packet of information Trytian had given me. The top page was a photo of the bald-headed man—or at least a bald-headed man, but he was gaunt and lean, and tough looking, so he was probably our Koyanni. Around his neck was a pendant. One of the spirit seals.
“That’s our man.” Trillian picked up the dossier on him and began to read. “Name is Newkirk. No address, but it says here that he’s been spotted at the Energy Exchange. In fact…it says here he’s one of the regulars.”
Camille leaned over his shoulder. “Looks like we’re going clubbing tonight. What else is in that packet of info?”
I flipped through the pages; there was information on Gulakah—mostly what we already knew. He sure looked like a buttload of laughs. On the last page was a schematic of the bar. As I examined the layout, it became apparent there were several hidden areas, including…a tunnel.
“Want to make a bet there’s an entrance from Underground Seattle?”
“What better place to use to hide things you don’t want the cops to find out? Or to hide when enemies come looking?” Shade drummed his fingers on the table.
“I think the real question is, do they know what that pendant is? Do they understand the significance? The Koyanni looking for Amber’s spirit seal didn’t. All they knew was that it was of great religious significance to them, and it gave their leader powers.” Camille shook her head. “I’m not betting the Koyanni know the true nature of the gem, but want to make a bet that Van and Jaycee do and they’re biding their time to try to retrieve it for Shadow Wing?”>“Yeah, I made you, right. They hurt your woman, right?” He glanced at Camille, who gave the smallest of flinches, but apparently Trytian was good at picking up on nuances. “What did they do? Beat you up? Set you on fire?”
She let out a long sigh. “Rolled me in broken glass during a fight. I survived, though I felt like a pincushion.”
“That sounds about right. They’re sadists. I knew that already. But I’ll admit it: I really thought they worked for Stacia. I was wrong. They didn’t work for her. Or, it turns out, for me. I had no clue they had this vendetta going on that involved your Koyanni shifters. I don’t dabble in the affairs of most Supes. I’m only interested in building a force against Shadow Wing.”
At the last, his eyes flashed and I saw a glint in them that made my stomach shift. Daemons were often more powerful than demons, and we still didn’t know what abilities Trytian possessed. I wasn’t entirely sure we wanted to find out, either.
“We were both played.”
“Apparently so. Hold on one minute.” Trytian stood, walked to the side, and pulled out a phone. The clamor in the restaurant was so loud it was hard to think. While we were waiting, the waitress deposited our meals on the table. Camille, Trillian, and I dug into our food.
After a moment, Trytian returned. He sat back down, leaned forward and cocked his head to the side. He interlaced his fingers, cracking his knuckles.
“Listen, puss—” He stopped as Shade shifted in his chair. “Delilah. Nobody plays me and survives. That phone call I just made? Every Tregart in my house will be dead within the next five minutes. Before you’re done with your meal, every Tregart in my training camp will be dead. They won’t know it’s coming until it’s over.”
I blinked. “How many?”
“Forty-five…fifty. My Second knows for sure. But not Van and Jaycee—I only deal with them on a business arrangement. They aren’t in my camp and they don’t know the inner workings of my plans.” He was cool as a penguin on ice. He didn’t even blink.
“And you’re comfortable killing them all, knowing that maybe some of them are truly loyal to you?” Once again, the difference between Trytian’s methods and our own seemed so clear.
“Oh, don’t try that with me, pussycat.” He held his hand up as Shade stood. “Get over it, Stradolan. Yes, I know what you are,” he added, giving my startled lover a quick, cold smile. “The fact is, you kill off every Tregart you come across, don’t you?”
I stammered. “Well…yes…but…”
“You don’t know if they’re sent over here from Shadow Wing, if they’re my soldiers, or if they’re—possibly, just possibly—trying to escape their past and live a relatively normal life. The only good Tregart is a dead Tregart. Isn’t that the way you work?” He slapped the table—one, quick, hard slap.
“He’s right.” Camille sat up, wiping the corner of her lips with her napkin.
I swiveled my head and started to say something, but she shook her head.
“We do operate that way. The Tregarts are our enemy. We fight them, we kill them. Trytian’s correct.” She ignored his snort. “He did us a favor, because no doubt at least a good share of them were working for Shadow Wing. Forty-five? Fifty? That many fewer demons we have to worry about.”
I swallowed my protest. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“So, what’s our next move?” Trytian asked.
I didn’t like the implication of that little statement “Our next move? What makes you think we’re working together?”
“I don’t think we have any choice on this. We were both deceived.” He gave a little shrug.
Trytian had repeatedly offered to work with us. On his terms. But I still didn’t trust him. We could definitely add to his army—we’d knocked off three demon generals already. But he knew we’d never kowtow to his orders, so what was he expecting? He had threatened Camille last time—it was obvious he wanted her. But no, Trytian would fuck her if he had the chance, but he wouldn’t go to these lengths just for sex. He was an opportunist, not obsessed. So it had to be something else.
