Page 4 of Forge the Blade

“He didn’t. He repeated it.” Ellisandre grimaced. “Collin knows. Alice does not.”

Sevastyan’s shoulders sagged. Then he straightened up. What was done was done. “At least Collin doesn’t know we’re brothers. It’s better if he doesn’t.”

Ellisandre gazed back at him for a long moment. “I will not tell them. Be warned, Alice is intelligent. She found Jun’s father’s home herself, without help from myself or Richard’s investigator.”

Sevastyan grimaced. Of course his half-sister had to be extraordinary, just to complicate things. He pushed the problem aside and drank more water. His thoughts were still too slow and his emotions too high. The sooner the last of the drugs left his system, the sooner he would be back to his normal level of control. “Do you have a plan to get rid of the bodies?”

“The ones who were killed in the staircase can be taken out as baggage. We need to establish video footage of the three killed in here exiting. You and I are most similar to their builds, in height if not girth for the last one. We can take the largest one out in a wheelchair. Bundled up, no one will know he’s dead. We’ll wear his friends’ clothes.”

“Have anywhere that’s about to get covered in cement?”

“No. Just an acid vat outside the city.”

“When did you acquire that?”

Ellisandre tilted their head, pretending to think. “About the time Linda decided to try dating again.”

Sevastyan shook his head. “I’m not asking how many times you’ve used it.”

Ellisandre smirked. “So now would be the wrong time to tell you I’m technically still on the rolls of Europol, then.”

Sevastyan raised his eyebrows. “You are?”

Ellisandre nodded and motioned at the plate. “Eat.”

“I thought you were done.”

“I made them a deal. I do what I want. I take assignments if I want. They can’t control me, but they have access, as do I.”

“The Merchari have informants there.”

“Do you have names?”

“Several. Not all. We can’t take this to them or it’ll fail like every other time I tried.”

“We won’t.”

Sevastyan nodded, shoving food into his mouth.

Rei

Rei packed, his hands moving in front of his face as if they belonged to someone else. Without Sevastyan or Lisa beside him, he had gone into the somewhere, the safer place where his mind was quiet, where he couldn’t see the large man struggling beneath him, fighting for his life as Rei fought for his.

And yet the image was there. Playing over and over. Except for the moments when everything went quiet.

The suitcase was full. He reached for the second one, adding Lisa’s clothes in with his own. There was enough room. The other slave had arrived with only what was on his back. Sevastyan had ordered him to buy more, but he’d only collected a few outfits. Most of what he’d been wearing had been swiped from Sevastyan’s wardrobe.

Sevastyan had tolerated it without comment.

Rei dragged the suitcases to the closet on the other side of the room. He stood on his one good foot and started in on Sevastyan’s suits. They had their own case that folded and kept them safe and pressed in their hangers. His fingers were clumsy. He flexed them, studying the damage. If he stopped using them, they were going to swell and stiffen until they were useless. He’d torn skin from his palms. Lisa had sprayed something on the inside of his hands that imitated a skin barrier over the raw areas.

There was only so much time before his body gave out.

He packed faster.

Sounds came from the door. He turned his head. Lisa was there, leaning against the frame. He hopped in on one foot and caught himself on the corner.

“Bullet wound is cleaned,” Lisa said. He grabbed a pair of loose pants and frowned.