Betrayals

desired. Here we’ve had to make do because of funding restrictions. I thought you’d be sent downstate as soon as arrangements could be made. I thought you’d at least have a battery of tutors, not to mention a bodyguard or five like Milady herself. But it would draw too much attention, the directive said. You were better protected when you were less protected, because it wouldn’t bring attention to your survival, and Sergej would be looking for traces.”

When he said it, the name didn’t make the air turn chill and unwelcoming. But it still sent a bolt of almost- pain through my head. That doesn’t make much sense. “That doesn’t make any sense at all.”

He bared his white djamphir teeth in a wide, mirthless smile. “That’s what I thought. But I’ve already been demoted to running a tiny little reform school for cannon fodder out here in the sticks. Mine is not to question why, Dru.”

Oh, comforting. Not. “Wait a second—”

A shrug and a quick motion, brushing the past away. His leather jacket creaked. “When you bring in the fact that Christophe found you, there’s also the question of his loyalty. And the fact that you are… who you are.” He pushed the door open and motioned me through. “I’ve been stuck here for a long time. My own loyalty, to your mother and to Christophe, was professionally expensive, to say the least.”

“So—” I wanted to get a word in edgewise. Unfortunately, I had no word to get in. I tried again. “Okay. Can you do me a favor and start from the beginning? What the hell am I doing here?” Am I bait?

But I felt the heat of Christophe’s body against mine again, and didn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe it. No matter how much sense it made.

The room was long and low, windowless, and full of metal racks with boxes stacked on them. It went back for a long while, and the only light came from bulbs in thick, wire-crossed glass shields wrapped with cobwebs. It looked like an abandoned bomb shelter, and the rows of shelves receded to infinity.

“I think you’re here because someone is biding their time. It’s the oddest thing, but I can’t get through to any of my regular contacts over the state line. This entire node is being held as a blackout zone. Now, that could be to protect you. But it’s looking more and more like nobody even knows you’re here. Nobody at the main Schola, nobody in the Order except Augustine and Milady, and nobody’s heard from August recently. He’s missed his last two call-ins with his handler, who is, incidentally, one of my friends.” Dylan swung the door shut, turning back to face me as I edged nervously away. “And Christophe is unreachable too.” His eyes asked a question; did he suspect I’d taken his note to Christophe?

He had to suspect it. Which meant he was playing a game too. Just what kind of game I couldn’t guess yet.

“August is missing?” My throat was closing down to a pinhole, I had trouble getting the words out. Augie was Dad’s friend from way back, and the person I’d called to verify Christophe’s story.

Right before everything went to hell with the dreamstealer, the sky turning dark in the middle of the day, and Sergej.

I shivered. The sweat dried on my skin itched and reeked. It was a sour scent I was pretty used to by now.

It was fear.

I didn’t even remember what it was like not to be terrified anymore. Dylan examined me for a long ten seconds or so, and I was suddenly, scorchingly aware that I was down here alone. Nobody knew where I was. And he was telling me an awful lot of stuff about how I wouldn’t be missed by anyone who had the power to do something about it if I just up and disappeared.

But Christophe had told me to go find Dylan if there was another attack. He’d said Dylan was loyal. He’d told me he was coming back for me, too, and if I doubted that there were all sorts of things I could doubt.

Oh crap. I don’t trust anyone anymore. Not even myself.

“I’ve stolen this from the armory.” Dylan’s hand made a small movement, and I stared at the gun.

It was reversed, the butt offered to me. It was the nine-millimeter I’d handed over when the helicopter landed in the snow, to take me to the Schola and what I thought was safety. My heart pounded high and hard in my throat. “If what I suspect is true, you’re not safe here. You’re not safe anywhere, but especially not here.”

I reached out. Heavy metal, cold against my fingers. My hand closed around the gun. I popped the clip out and checked it, habitually. Still loaded with Dad’s silver-coated bullets. “So what am I supposed to do now?”

“Come take a look at this. Do you have a holster for that thing?”

I shrugged. Um, no. I can’t sign weapons out in the armory; all my stuff is in the truck, which Christophe’s hidden. And I have no way of contacting him. “How about I hide it in my bra?”

I didn’t mean to sound so sarcastic. But Jesus. And I felt a lot better with the gun in my hand.

Ridiculously better.

He sighed, a regular vintage Dylan sigh. “We’ll figure that out in a little bit. This way.”

I followed him between two rows of bookshelves, the gun kept carefully pointed at the floor. “What am I supposed to be taking a look at?”

His shoulders came up a little. “Something I’ve been sitting on for a while. The transcript Milady was talking about exists, but the one she showed me was heavily redacted. I have the original.”

All the breath left me in a whoosh. “Whoa. You’ve got it?”

“See? I told you you’d want to see this. The agent who transcribed the call was a friend of mine and a good Kouroi.” He hunched even further, as if the weight of the world was bearing down directly on him. “He died alone, in terrible pain. He was betrayed. I didn’t believe him when he gave me the envelope and told me not to share it with anyone unless it was an emergency.”

“So it’s an emergency now?”

“I certainly think this qualifies, Dru.” Dylan took a sharp right at the end of the row of bookcases and kept going until we ended up at a heavy wooden door set in the stone wall. “I thought I would give this to Christophe. But you’ll probably see him before I do. If he’s still alive.” He gave me an odd look, his eyes shadowed.

The urge to tell him that I’d already seen Christophe fought with the reasonable caution to keep my mouth shut. Everyone was lying, for God’s sake. Next I was going to find out that even Graves was fucking around with me.

No. Not him. You know better. But Graves was okay hanging out with his wulfen buddies. They didn’t seem like bad kids to me, just stupid and aggressive. Hey, that’s boys for you.

And if nobody was supposed to know I was here, where did that leave them?

Dylan unlocked the door with a heavy iron key. “We’ve got about two hours until Kruger’s on duty to stand guard. I want to get you back in your room before then.”

“Sounds like a plan.” The weird spinning sensation had filled up my chest again. God, I wish Dad was here. Or August. Or even Christophe. Just someone else to deal with this.

I closed that thought away for the hundredth time, and followed Dylan through the door.

I watched the sunset spill orange and gold through my bedroom window. The gun was on the bedside table, pointed carefully toward the blind corner behind the door. A copy of the transcript, three and a half pages covered in single-space typing, sat obediently near my bare feet.

The date and time were military; I could tell just by looking. Strings of numbers marched across the top and bottom of each page. The text in the middle was even and close, little black ants marching on white paper.

SFR-1: The information is well guarded.

SFR-2: That’s none of your concern. Where is she? We are prepared to pay for the information.

SFR-1: Keep your money. I just want the bitch dead.

SFR-2: I can arrange that.

It was my mother they were talking about. Calmly discussing killing her, like her death was just one more item on a grocery list. There was a mention of Dad, too, “the husband.” Nothing about me.

Of course, according to the date, I would have been about five years old. Was I my mother’s secret?

I squeezed my eyes shut so hard phantom yellow fireworks splashed in the darkness behind my lids. It was