BDB 13 The Shadows (69 page)

Another bene of this royal reveal of hers?

The one thing that might have torn him up at the idea of leaving, the one tie he might have had to here, was now gone.

Leaving Caldwell, leaving the United States, getting good and gone and staying that way was probably going to be healthy for him.

Shit knew they had enough money to go for a century even if they never earned another penny. And although he would be sad to see the last of the King and the Brotherhood and that whole household, if it avoided war, he was prepared to leave them.

He and Trez were out of here.

For good.

As iAm went over to the sliding glass door, Catra had to yell at herself not to run after him. It all seemed like such a nightmare, everything about the evening.

He did not look back at her as he left.

And even though she could not blame him, she wanted to cry out.

Closing her eyes, she bowed her head and breathed into her palms.

“Do not tell me you fell in love with him,” s’Ex said grimly.

Forcing herself to drop her hands and address the executioner, she met his eye. “Why were you here? You couldn’t have been following me. I was careful.”

He looked away. “I am not unfamiliar with this place.”

“You have been here before?”

“You are not the only one who wishes to be free from time to time. Those two brothers owed me certain … favors, shall we say.”

When he stopped there, she sensed there was pain in him. Deep pain. And she wondered if perhaps he had not been mourning his infant in this private place, mourning the loss that had been decreed by the stars.

Staring at the proud male, she found herself forming a kinship of sorts with him. She would ne’er have guessed he was unhappy or unfulfilled in his lot, and perhaps he was not. But he had had to sacrifice his own flesh and blood for the traditions … and for her mother.

Or been forced to, because of the stars.

“I am sorry,” she said.

“Whate’er for?”

“You are well aware of what.”

It was rare that a male such as he would duck eyes to avoid a stare, but he did that now. “I am unaware of what you speak.”

Refocusing, she knew they had to leave, and for several reasons. She was very clear, however, that this would be the last time she stepped foot in this place that held such memories for her. Though she had known iAm for mere nights, it had been … a lifetime.

Departing from here was like closing the door on the one bright spark she had e’er had.

“Let us proceed,” s’Ex said, as if he read her mind, sensed her emotions.

Without further conversation, they donned their hoods, went to the door, and stepped out. The wind was so strong and cold that it stole her breath away, and for a moment, she couldn’t concentrate and dematerialize. Soon enough, however, she was off along with s’Ex, traveling to the Territory.

When they re-formed, it was in the forest to the rear of the retaining wall. In her maid’s disguise, she would never have been allowed through the front entrance—

Something was wrong.

Several guards were clustered around the back entrance, talking with animation.

“Stay here,” s’Ex ordered. “And don’t argue with me.”

“They won’t know who I am.”

“Unless someone figured out you left.”

She had been careful, she thought.

Except … her mother was onto her, wasn’t she.

s’Ex took a step forward. Stopped. Pivoted around and indicated to the left. “There’s a secret panel about a quarter of a mile that way. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.”

Catra frowned, and was curious when she had a sudden protective urge over s’Ex. The Queen’s executioner was more than able to take care of himself, however.

Unless, of course, he was somehow found sneaking her back in. Then he was in mortal danger.

“I regret the position I have placed you in,” she said.

“Regret is not a luxury you and I can afford. Go that way. I’ll get you to your quarters somehow.”

With that he strode off, not bothering to hide his footsteps. And at the sound of cracking sticks, the guards drew weapons, prepared to attack.

“’Tis I,” s’Ex announced.

The fact that the guards did not relax made her worried.

“You are wanted,” one of them said suspiciously. “The Princess is gone.”

“I know. I have been out looking for her.”

“AnsLai has been in search of you,” another added.

“Then I shall go to him now and make my report.” He dropped his voice to a threat. “Unless you are of a mind to attempt to prevent me access.”

“The Princess is not in her quarters,” a third repeated.

Catra swallowed hard. They still had not put their weapons away.

“Did you not hear that I have gone looking for her in the forest? She has been dressing as a maid. She could easily have gone out this way for a nocturnal stroll.”

With subtle movements, s’Ex reached behind his back, his hand finding a flap in his robing and ducking inside. When he casually retracted his arm, the biggest serrated knife she had ever seen emerged with it.

And yet his voice continued calmly. “She has no food, no shelter, no weapons, and she is not capable of existing on her own. Where exactly do you think she would go? It is far more likely that she is within the Territory, or even in the palace itself.”

“They said you helped her escape.”

“Who says?”

“AnsLai.”

Ah, yes, the high priest that was her mother’s other right hand.

Could this be an attempted coup against the executioner?

“Who exactly do you think ordered me to go look for the Princess?” s’Ex asked. “Or are you telling me that the Queen’s command is not as powerful as a priest’s? Is that what you would like me to carry back to your ruler? Because I will, along with your dead bodies.”

Instantly, everything changed, the situation defused, the guards resheathing their weapons, s’Ex tucking his blade into the folds of his robe at his thigh.

A moment later, he was inside the walls.

Standing alone in the darkness, Catra wrapped her arms about herself and shivered. As the cold night enveloped her, and the enormity of what was happening sank in, all she heard was iAm’s voice in her head:

My brother just lost his
shellan
.

She died in front of him, and he spent most of the day and some of the night preparing her body for a goddamn funeral pyre.

Then he got to watch her burn until there was nothing left but ashes on the cold ground.

And I just learned that your mother is prepared to attack the only people who have ever tried to take care of me and Trez if he isn’t delivered on her doorstep tomorrow at midnight.

For so long she had been in the shadows, a peripheral player to the true power of her people. As the heir to the throne, she was supposed to have no present influence.

That time had passed.

She had always respected the traditional ways. But having experienced heartbreak and loss personally? She couldn’t let this continue.

iAm’s hurt and anger had transformed her in a meaningful way. She had injured him, compromised him, lied to him. He was right; she had been selfish.

There had to be a way to stop all this. Stop the war. Allow Trez and iAm to be free. Let herself be …

Well, if not free, then at least not a poison that infected others and ruined their lives—all because of some astrological record that didn’t for one moment take into account personal choice, personal emotions, personal lives.

Walking off in the direction s’Ex had told her to go, she tried to be silent and stick to the thickest parts of the forest.

She wasn’t sure exactly where the hidden panel was.

And had no idea what she was going to do if s’Ex didn’t show up. Or … if he had a change of heart and, either through self-interest or self-survival, turned her over to her mother.

But after a lifetime of being proper, she was going down fighting.

T
here were plans to be made.

As iAm took form in the back parking lot of Sal’s Restaurant, he was all about the parachute. Checking his watch, he took note of the time—he had about twelve hours to get everything arranged before he and Trez could leave. Tickets he would get online. The SUV was already gassed up. Banks and lawyers opened at nine—although he’d been keeping things in good order on those fronts so he was going to be able to get seriously liquid very fast.

Xhex could take over shAdoWs and The Iron Mask if she wanted. If she didn’t, they could leave those to Big Rob and Silent Tom. God knew those two bastards were co-owners by virtue of sweat equity alone. And Sal’s?

Well, that was going to go to his head chef, Antonio diSenza. The guy was on the ball, good with the front of the house and the back. And he would treat the rest of the staff well.

All those transfers were what the lawyers were going to be for. At least he’d been smart enough to get Trez’s power of attorney years ago, so he was going to be able to sign over everything without having to bother the guy.

And as for Trez himself?

The male was sound asleep; the text from Fritz had come through about ten minutes ago. The plan was to let the poor bastard rest for as long as possible. Then tell him they were going on a trip around the world.

If the way Trez had been in that bedroom of his was any indication? He wasn’t going to put up much fight. He’d been so out-of-it, iAm could have done open-heart surgery on him without putting him on a bypass machine.

Sooner or later that bubble of exhaustion and shock was going to wear off, and there was going to be some hard-core shit on the other side for sure. But they could cross that divide when they got there: First order of business was to secure the path out of Caldwell. Second was to get Trez moving. Third was to stay ghost.

As for the Brothers and the King? He was going to sign off to them all via text and leave his phone behind.

The Shadows could read minds if the situation called for it. If he left no trace and no way of being contacted? Then when Wrath told s’Ex or AnsLai or whomever from the s’Hisbe that he didn’t know where they were and didn’t help them escape? The truth was going to be verifiable and obvious.

That way the Brotherhood and the vampires would be safe.

Walking forward, he passed by the cars of the people he’d been working with for the last two years. Even though they were human, he was going to miss them—although not because he necessarily had deep personal relationships with them. It was more because he had enjoyed this stretch of his life. The cooking, the pretend stress, the demands.

Compared to what was really on his shoulders, it had been a nice relief, like going to see a movie when you needed a break.

Besides, here at Sal’s? If there was shit wrong, he could always manage to fix it.

Opening up the rear door, he stopped. The urgent voices, the clattering, the heat, the smells … for a moment, he had to blink quickly.

“Chef!” someone said. “You’re back!”

Instantly, people were coming at him, clapping his palms, talking at him, asking him questions.

God, I want to stay here, he thought.

As with so many nights, he changed train tracks in his head, stepping away from the Trez stuff to the things he wished he were free to think about all the time. The place was hopping during the after-hours cleanup, reports that their dining rooms had been full, and that a critic from
Food & Wine
had come in for a four-top, being told to him over and over.

He wasn’t going to inform them all about the change in ownership. He was just going to set it up and mail the papers in. And he was going to take care of the tax implications, too, so the title was free and clear.

Going over to the stove, he popped the top of the marinara pot and sniffed. Then he picked up the oregano container and added some. “I told you last week,” he said to the sous-chef. “You need to watch the balance here.”

“Yes, chef.”

As he replaced the lid, he thought about how he’d imagined bringing
maichen
here. How in a rose-colored moment, when he’d pictured her settling in Caldwell and being with him, he’d seen them sitting in this kitchen on a Monday night, when the restaurant was closed, at a two-top over there where the
mise en place
stations were.

He’d gone so far as to plan the menu.

In a way, he and Trez were walking similar paths. He hadn’t literally had his beloved die … but the female he’d fallen in love with wasn’t on the planet anymore.

God, that really hurt.

And actually, maybe he needed to add one more thing to his pre-departure to-do list. After he checked on the two clubs, maybe it’d be a good idea to have a drink.

Yup. When it was time to go back to the mansion, what better way to spend what remained of the night than cozied up to a bottle of bourbon. It was probably the last time for a while that he was going to be able to unplug.

Plus he never got hangovers. So he’d be fresh as a daisy in the a.m.

It was the only benefit to being a Shadow that he’d ever found.

A quarter mile.

s’Ex had told her to go a quarter mile. Catra had no idea what that meant, but it had to be a long way. Or … not?

As she proceeded along, she went from tree to tree, taking cover behind trunks—which, she supposed, was rather stupid, and testament to s’Ex’s point that she couldn’t really take care of herself: An attack could very well come from the back, and even as she listened as hard as she could, the pounding of her heart was a loud snare drum that dulled her senses.

It would have been far better to spirit along the ground, assuming a Shadow state, but she was too scattered for that—and she didn’t want to stop and waste time trying to concentrate—

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-oooooooooooooooooooh.

Freezing at the high-pitched sound, she looked in a panic to the direction it had come from. A moment later, a figure stepped out into a shallow clearing.

It was a male servant.

A male servant who … happened to be as extraordinarily tall and broad as s’Ex was.