Stiletto (56 page)

“And the people who attacked the car this evening?” asked Chevalier Whibley. “Any ideas?”

“I didn’t recognize them,” said Odette. “None of them.”

“They sounded English,” remarked Bishop Alrich. “Tasted En-glish too.”

“We’re having their fingerprints analyzed,” said Rook Kelleher. “Two of them were in the system — minor criminals out of London.”

“So the Antagonists are recruiting,” said Rook Thomas sourly.

“They wouldn’t,” said Odette. “They might give those men weapon implants, use them as muscle, but there’s no way they’d accept them as equals.”

“Elitists,” said Lady Farrier. It wasn’t clear if she disapproved or not.

“Justifiably,” said Marcel. “That group of students was our most promising in decades. They’re unorthodox, but they’re brilliant. All of them.” He put a hand on Odette’s shoulder.

“And the blond man, the leader?” asked Bishop Alrich. “He was particularly eager to kill Rook Thomas. It seemed almost personal.”

“I have no idea who he is,” said Rook Thomas. “He was unconscious by the time I woke up in the car, even before the staff from Hill Hall arrived. The holding facility sent me some photos of him, but they rang no bells for me.” She flushed a little. “I have a bad memory for faces, though.” Lady Farrier snorted at this.

“Currently, he’s comatose,” said Rook Kelleher. “The doctors at the Rookery have examined him. No Grafter implants, so far as we can tell. No explanation for why he went unconscious. We have him in a secure medical facility in the building.”

“He seemed to be calling the shots,” said Alrich.

“And he seemed to know who
you
were,” said Odette to the vampire. “He was horrified to see you.”

“I can have that effect on people,” said Alrich modestly. Odette blushed.

“Well, this is all very well,” said Lady Farrier, “but let’s move beyond the minutiae of the situation and focus on the big picture. I’m sure you can understand, Graaf van Suchtlen, that these revelations have cast our negotiations in an entirely different light.”

“Yes, Lady Farrier,” said Ernst soberly.

“We, the Court, will need to discuss the implications of this. If you would excuse us?” The Grafters looked at one another and then began to rise. Marcel gathered up his papers. “Dr. Leliefeld, I wouldn’t bother taking those notes with you,” the Lady said.

“Oh? Why not?”

“Because this is a dream.”

*

Odette woke up. She was in the bathtub of her hotel suite, warm in her gel.
Unbelievable,
she thought. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind that it had been a real meeting, even if it had taken place while she was asleep. She was aware that Lady Farrier could manipulate the dreams of others — she must have reached out to all the attendees’ sleeping minds and gathered them together.

Amazing,
thought Odette. The advantages were obvious. The meeting could be held in secret, without any chance of surveillance, and if it had gone badly and battle had actually broken out, no one would have suffered any harm. It was a disconcerting thought, however, to imagine that the Lady of the Checquy could simply dip into a person’s mind and manipulate it as she saw fit.
And I never questioned it,
she mused.
Just like in a normal dream, I didn’t ask how I came to be there.

I wonder what time it is.
She opened her eyes and frowned. The lights were on in the bathroom, and she was certain she’d turned them off. Was it her imagination or were there wavery figures standing by the tub? She snapped upright, the slime dripping down her face, and looked around to find three soldiers in camouflage, their large automatic weapons pointed directly at her.

“Evening, miss,” said one of them. “Don’t be alarmed.”

“Don’t be alarmed?” she repeated. “What in the hell is going on?”

He held up a finger and then pressed it against his ear. He cocked his head, and nodded a few times. “Copy that,” he said into a microphone. “Stand down,” he said to his men, and they all dropped their guns. “Well, that’s a bit of good news, miss. It seems the members of the Court decided they believed your story, so we don’t have to execute you or the young lad in the other room. Sorry to have disturbed you. Have a good night.”

Felicity woke up to the sound of the phone ringing by her bed. She had been banished from the dream-meeting of the Court almost immediately after the Grafters departed, but rather than waking up, she had slid into a peaceful, natural sleep. Until the phone rang. She fumbled in the darkness, managed to knock over a lamp, and finally put her hand on the phone.

“Yeah?”

“It’s Rook Thomas. Can you please come down to room 909?”

“I — of course, ma’am.” With an effort, she levered herself out of bed and poured herself into the clothes that she’d left scattered on the floor. She rode down in the lift, yawning hugely and trying not to look at herself in the mirrored walls. To her chagrin, she looked exactly like someone who’d inhaled a biological gaseous anesthetic, been in a car accident, and then gotten woken up at four in the morning.

Mrs. Woodhouse, who let her into room 909, also bore the unmistakable hallmarks of someone who’d had a long, bad night, but she still managed to look several thousand times more together than Felicity did. The executive assistant gestured for Felicity to sit down at a little dining table. Farther in the room, Rook Thomas and Graaf van Suchtlen were seated on opposite couches. There was an odd dynamic to their conversation that Felicity, in her exhausted state, could not quite decode.

“When were you going to tell us about this, Ernst?” the Rook was saying. “When were you going to tell me about the cabal of Grafters working to destroy our peace negotiations?”

“Never,” said the graaf without a hint of embarrassment. “Or when they were all dead. Whichever came second.” Odette winced. “It was our problem, and we were handling it.”

“Well, now they’re our problem,” said Rook Thomas. “You see, you may not have realized this, but the British government is working toward a peaceful accommodation with the Broederschap wherein you will become a part of this organization and of the British government. Did you think that you would just get a Eurostar ticket, a security pass, a desk in the Hammerstrom Building, and it’s all taken care of?

“This is a horrendously complicated undertaking costing huge sums of money and involving hundreds of people throughout the government who are trying to do it all in secret. There are layers upon layers of lies, illusion, and concealment, all woven into this entire nightmarish, convoluted, bureaucratic tapestry.

“And I started that process,” said Thomas, “after a conversation with you, Ernst. A conversation in my office during which we agreed that peace between us would be better than the alternative.

“Because, make no mistake,” she said flatly, “the alternative is still a very real possibility. The Court has decided that they believe you. Mostly. But if knowledge of your Antagonists were to get out to the greater Checquy, I don’t know what would happen.”

“They are your troops,” said the graaf, “they will obey.”

“I really don’t know that you’re in a position to deliver pompous observations about commanding people’s loyalty, Ernst,” said the Rook with narrowed eyes. “And while we will try to help you, I can’t bring the full force of the Checquy to bear on this issue. They already hate you, and now it turns out that your kids have been running around committing atrocities on British citizens. Yes, the Checquy are loyal. Yes, they are professional. But that doesn’t mean that I can order them to do whatever I like. I do not want to be yet another Rook who pushed the Checquy into rebellion against itself.”

“I understand,” said the graaf. “Of course, we will do everything we can to work with you to eliminate this problem quietly.”

“Good,” said the Rook. “Tell me, please God, that you have some leads.”

“We had warriors here in London tracking them down,” said Ernst, provoking a choking gasp from the Rook, “but it proved fruitless. On Friday night, they killed all our agents.”

“Those clothes and guns in Hyde Park — those were your people?” spluttered Thomas.

“Oh, you know about those? I suppose that was inevitable.”

“Of course it was fucking inevitable,” said the Rook. “I just can’t believe you had armed soldiers running around London. No other leads?” The graaf shook his head. “Terrific. Well, that brings us to you, Pawn Clements,” she said, turning to the dining area. “And your protectee.” She gestured for Felicity to join them.

“What about my protectee?” said Felicity as she sat down gingerly on the same couch as the Rook.

“Before the Antagonists make their next attack, before they push us completely over the edge and into war, we think that one of two things could happen: Odette might go to the Antagonists, or they might come for her,” said van Suchtlen.

“What?” asked Felicity, startled. “What do you mean?”

“She is one of them,” said Ernst simply.

“You think that Leliefeld is a mole?” asked Felicity. “That she’s really working for the Antagonists?” The graaf shrugged. “I thought that you had decided she could be trusted.”

“We cannot know,” he said. “Not definitively. When she came to us the first day, after her friends fled, there was a great deal of doubt. Even Marcel, her mentor, was cautious.”

“What about her parents?” said Felicity dazedly. “What do they say?”

“Her parents are not members of the Broederschap,” said the graaf. “Her father is the son of Marcel’s brother, Siegbert, who died in the war. He was raised as Marcel’s oldest son, and he knows some things, but he is not one of us.”

“Okay,” said Felicity. “But you don’t know for certain that she’s a traitor.”

“No,” admitted van Suchtlen. “Not for certain. We have watched her closely and seen no sign of it, but in the end, it doesn’t matter. In her heart she loves them, and they love her.” There was no emotion in the graaf’s voice. He stared into Felicity’s eyes, and she saw nothing but cold calculation. “That is why she was brought here as part of the delegation. We can watch her for any sign of treachery and ensure that she makes no attacks on our places in Europe. Also, they will not strike hard when she is in our custody.”

“Not strike hard?” repeated Felicity incredulously. “What about today? What about those deaths in the restaurant? And the sleepwalkers?”

“The sleepwalkers?” repeated Ernst. Rook Thomas hurriedly explained about the civilians getting up in the middle of the night and disappearing, the skin room that had gone up in flames, the loss of Felicity’s teammates, and the white-skinned man who had killed them.
I wonder if that was Pim,
thought Felicity.

“So they have already killed Checquy people,” said Ernst. “Myfanwy, I cannot apologize enough. They are unstable, they must be, but I am certain of their love for Odette. That is what the attack on the car was about. They were coming for her. For all their hatred and resentment, they will do their utter best not to hurt her. Having her at the hotel and in Checquy facilities makes it less likely they will strike at those places.”

“So you’re using her as a human shield.”

“We must use every tool at our disposal,” said the Grafter. “That is also why we brought Alessio here. His presence is not a sign of good faith for the Checquy, or, should I say, not
only
a sign of good faith for the Checquy. He is here for us to hold as hostage against Odette’s loyalty. There is no one she loves as much as her baby brother. Not even Pim and the others.”

“But this is your family,” said Felicity, aghast at the extent of the manipulation that had just been revealed. The Checquy used its people, of that there was no doubt.
That’s why they call us Pawns, after all.
But this level of control and deception was something else entirely. “You are using their affection — their love! — as a weapon.”

“As insurance,” said the graaf. “As a shield, like you said. But if it comes to it, if the only way to win is to sacrifice Odette and Alessio, even if both of them are innocent, I will do it.”

“This is the way it has to be, Clements,” said the Rook sadly. “We have to use every tool we have, even if we hate doing it. That’s the responsibility of our positions. And now it’s yours too.”

Felicity’s mind was reeling. It was loathsome. She wanted to say that she couldn’t do it, that she wouldn’t do it. But she just nodded.

“What are my orders?”

“You’re not going to like them,” said the Rook.

*

The needle itself was no longer than any normal hypodermic, but it seemed as if it ought to be huge, because the syringe attached to it was so very large. In it, a milky blue liquid sat expectantly.

“Now, once I have injected this into you, you absolutely must
not
get pregnant,” said the graaf seriously. “Not for at least seven months. This is not a suggestion.”

“Well, I hadn’t planned on it,” said Felicity wryly. Her tone was an attempt to cover up her increasing unease.

“Planned, unplanned, it must not happen.”

“I’m on the pill.”

“That is not a hundred percent,” he said. “You must be one hundred percent certain.”

“And what is this stuff again?” Felicity asked nervously.

“The Antagonists have proven their willingness to use viral and bacterial weapons,” said the graaf. “If they come for Odette, or if she makes a break for it, you must be able to resist such weapons.”

“But what
is
it?”

“You wouldn’t understand the answer if I gave it.”

“But it’s Grafter-tech, right? Some bacteria you’ve cobbled together or a hormone you’ve twisted about?” She looked at the Rook pleadingly. “Rook Thomas, please, you know what this means. It’s everything we’ve been brought up to despise. Please,
please
don’t ask me to do this.” The Rook chewed her lip thoughtfully, and her brow furrowed.

“Pawn Clements?” she said finally.

“Yes?”

“Do it.”

“...Yes, ma’am.”

*

“So why aren’t you just inoculating everyone?” asked Felicity as she squeezed the rubber ball the graaf had given her. The veins in her arm were coming to the surface.