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“You think I’d let her see me like this? I got Graylach to stay with her.”
“The goblin’s dead, Serge. It’s dead, and Tasha’s gone.”
He could see the shock flash in Serge’s eyes. More, he could see the flash of opportunity—the serpent taking a tentative peek out once again.
“Focus for me. Focus, damn you. Where is she? Did someone know she was staying with you? Someone who’d want to hurt Luke?”
“I don’t know.” He pressed his hands to his skull. “I don’t know. I left. Had to keep her safe.”
“Safe?” Nick repeated. “Safe from what?”
Pure pain glowed in Serge’s eyes. “From me.”
He drew in a breath, then clutched his head even tighter. “By the gods,” he whispered. “Lucius. He will have my life for this.”
“No,” said Nick, standing up and looking away from his friend as compassion warred with disgust. “Right now, I don’t think your life is worth the debt.”
* * *
Luke listened as Nick told him the story, forcing himself to bury his rage—and his fear—under an icy calm. If he lost control now, he’d be hard-pressed to ever get it back.
“You cannot feel her at all?” Nick asked. “There is no blood connection between you? Not even the slightest?”
“You know there isn’t,” Luke said. It was one of the reasons that the Concordat prohibited the turning of those without full capacity. With any other, he would be able to seek them out, discern their feelings, come close to actually reading their mind.
With a mind such as Tasha’s, though, that was not possible.
“Dammit.” Luke grabbed the edges of the small sink in his cell, fighting once again for control, feeling it slipping away. “The dolls,” he said, forcing his mind to think clearly. “You said that her dolls were gone?”
“All of them. Her clothes, too.”
He considered the fact, focusing on the scenario, pushing emotion out of the mix so that he could think clearly. Because unless he was clear, he couldn’t find her. “A killer would not take such things.”
“There’d be no reason,” Nick said, agreeing. “Neither would someone holding her to send you a message.”
“And where is the message?” Luke asked. “There is none, because it is not my enemies who have her.”
“She left on her own,” Nick said, nodding. “But that’s not a whole hell of a lot better.”
“No,” Luke agreed. “It isn’t.” She may have left Serge’s of her own free will, but so far she had not contacted Nick again. And to Luke’s mind, that meant trouble.
“She would have come to Los Angeles,” he said.
“To you,” Nick said. “Of course.”
“And we know that Caris is in town.”
“Fuck,” Nick said. “You don’t think—”
“I think it’s a possibility,” Luke said. “Payback for my taking out Hasik and Tinsley. For fucking up Gunnolf’s little plot.” Nick had briefed Tiberius, who had in turn paid a visit to Gunnolf. For now, Gunnolf’s plan was on ice, and as Tiberius had agreed not to inform the rest of the Alliance about Gunnolf’s treachery, Tiberius had acquired a powerful political marker. As had Luke.
“You think Caris would know it was you?”
“Tiberius knows it was me, and I’m sure she still has sources within his organization. But even if she doesn’t know, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d snatch Tasha simply out of spite. Damned ancient history. And if that traitorous bitch really has laid a hand on Tasha, she’ll soon feel the sharp end of a very hard stick.”
Nick nodded slowly. “But we have to find her first.”
“I know. I want you on the street. Find out where Caris is holed up.”
