Green-Eyed Envy (19 page)

“What in the
hell
is going on?”

Now that we were alone, Mom grabbed my arms and pulled me to her, hugging tightly enough to hurt. I gave a grunt but didn’t squirm. She needed this closeness, confirmation that I
hadn’t
been killed in the ambush after all. Although I wasn’t quite sure why she’d gone to the trouble of sending Serise to save my ass when she’d journeyed all the way from the Fury slice of the Otherrealms to here.

She finally pushed away, though her eyes still drank in the sight of me hungrily. Wow, she’d
really
been scared for me—I could tell that by the way her lips trembled and her deep blue eyes shone with unshed tears. “Hell isn’t too far off the mark, Marissa.” She raked a hand through her elegantly coiffed hair. “The Sisterhood is in utter chaos these days, much as the Elders manage to hide it from others. Your grandmother continues to refuse to see me, and her challenge to Katya still stands.”

“Katya?” I blinked when realization hit. Katya, aka Ekaterina, current Moerae (basically the chairperson and CEO of the Sisterhood’s ruling council, the Conclave) and major pain in my backside. “You’re on a familiar name basis with Fox-Faced Bitch now? Thought you two hated each other.”

“We did. We do. Probably always will. But she knows as well as I do that something isn’t right with Nan, and she’s smart enough to realize I
will
gain Stacia’s seat on the Conclave any day now.” Her lips pressed together in an even-grimmer line, if that was possible. “Things are more dire in the Conclave than you know, Marissa. Someone is stirring up strife now, not only sister against sister, but class against class. Alecto against Megaera; Megaera against Tisiphone.”

My stomach knotted up at the pointed expression in her eyes. “So you mean I may not have personally pissed off the Megaera after all?”

She gave a vexed sigh. “My allies in our own class are doing their damnedest to uncover the identity of the Prime Megaera so we can either pressure her into backing down—or take her treacherous ass out. Without knowing who she is, it’s impossible to say for sure, but it seems far more likely you were selected because of your class and ties to both Nan and me.”

Which meant that the Megaera had used Durra’s unrequited love for Vanessa and Rage that I’d been unable to save her to con the other Fury into raising silver against a sister.
Bitch.

“She wants to make an example of me. Send a warning to all Tisiphones in her twisted power play.”

Rage burgeoned in the wake of dread. Striking against me for personal reasons was bad enough—but that I could almost understand. Sending an assassin after me for political reasons, on the other hand, was something else entirely. Add to that the fact someone was trying to hurt my mother in the vilest way possible—through the loss of a child—and it was a wonder physical steam wasn’t spewing from my ears.

I reached out, taking one of Mom’s hands in my own. “You focus on finding out what’s wrong with Nan and forcing the vote for Stacia’s seat. We
need
you on the Lesser Consensus. Serise will keep our family safe, and I can take care of myself here, especially now that I know they’re gunning for me. And when I have this damned serial killer taken care of, I will join you in the Palladium to watch your back while we find out once and for all who is scheming against us. If it’s a fight they want, then a fight they shall have.”

Mom squeezed my fingers and gave a predatory smile of her own. “That’s my girl!”

Like mother, like daughter indeed.

I HAD TO AGREE TO STAY FOR THE NEXT FEW days in the safe house Mom had on loan from Serise before I could convince her to return to the Palladium.
She
had to assure me bodyguards waited for her there before I agreed to let her go alone. One positive thing about Mom now being an Elder Fury—phenomenally cool travel powers that meant she didn’t have to take the train ride from hell younger Furies in the area were stuck with.

At least we had
something
to look forward to about turning one hundred.

Once I saw Mom safely off, I faced the music and called Scott’s cell. While he couldn’t have known for sure I would be in that particular T stop at that exact moment, somehow I knew he’d be worried nonetheless. Then again, who could blame him with my magical assassination track record lately?

“Where the hell are you?”

The stark fear in his voice made up for the angry words. “In a safe house arranged by Mom. She just left so this was my first chance to call.”

Some of the panic evaporated, though he still sounded concerned. “Your mom? Then the attack
was
aimed at you. Who have you managed to piss off now?”

His attempt at humor was appreciated even though it fell a little flat. “Oh, nobody special. Just the Megaera.”

Silence met my own deflated joke. Scott knew more than most other arcanes did about Fury society (and politics) by virtue of his line of work and relationship with me. I didn’t have to explain who
the
Megaera was—or how much hot water that put me in.

Finally he managed to respond. “Just when I think you can’t inspire another gray hair, you prove me wrong.”

I laughed—Scott’s deep red hair was as shiny and grayfree as my own. Hooray for being immortal! While you
could
be horribly murdered (say, stabbed in the back with a spell-worked silver blade and thrown into a magical explosion), you’d look young and fabulous all the while. The thought of how close I’d come to cashing it in earlier had me closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. What if I wasn’t so lucky next time? He deserved to know the truth about my knee and budding addiction.

“Scott, I’m sorry.”

“You’re—sorry. For what?”

My pulse thudded in my ears. I took another deep breath, steeling myself for the admission to come. “Sorry—that things between Vic the Slick and Sierra are getting so hot and heavy. You know that’s just an act on my end, right?”

Kinda sorta. And
a
truth, though not the one I’d intended. Evidently near-death experiences didn’t completely wipe away one’s inner wuss.
Okay, baby steps then . . .

He took a breath of his own on the other end of the connection. “Yeah, I know. So, I was that obvious, huh?”

I grinned. “The smoldering eyes, the brooding lips, the clenched fists when we walked in together—yeah, just a bit.”

“Oh well, at least I managed to hide the daggers shooting from my gaze.”

Not so much.
I thought it but didn’t want to rain on his parade—not with him being in such an upbeat mood. Well, considering . . . Considering the fun fest that was my life. “Scott, things are really going to hell in the Sisterhood. Mom thinks the Megaera chose me to set a political example.”

“Fucking Fury politics.”

My heart went
pitter pat
. “My sentiments exactly. She’s gone back to kick some political ass and take some Megaera names—one in particular—but it’s probably going to take us both to bring this thing to a head.”

“Which means we need to close this case.”

Warmth spread from my head to my slightly curled toes.
We
. Not
you
. Just knowing he had my back the way I had Mom’s gave me strength. That unwavering loyalty and sense of responsibility for others mirrored my own—a big reason I’d turned to him for help several short months ago despite our messy breakup. No matter what happened between us, we would always have each other’s back. If that’s not really love, I don’t know what is.

My voice grew husky with my reply. “Speaking of which, how’d the tasting go?”

“We got there just in time for the cake.”

“Lucky you. Trin?”

“Said to tell you everything went smooth as molasses, sugah.”

“Never knew you could pull off such a convincing Southern drawl, Yankee Boy.”

He snorted. “Says the woman whose father’s family has been in New England since the
Mayflower
.”

More like the Salem witch trials—which, admittedly, wasn’t all that far off. “Okay. The final dress fitting in a few days shouldn’t be too traumatic. Guess Sierra’s next big hurdle to jump will be the bridal shower. In the meantime, we need to keep running down leads as fast as we can. I
still
can’t believe the wedding’s just over a week away.” My mind spun with a half-dozen details still to be dealt with before the Big Day. Assuming that not only the killer let things get that far, but that nobody else threw any major wrenches into the works.

“I’d like to touch base with Sahi tomorrow on the autopsy results for—Rockefeller.” Guilt twinged at the thought of the man I’d been unable to save, but I forced it aside. “See if he was hit with the same cocktail as the others. And we have
got
to figure out just where that stuff is coming from and exactly how it works.” I rubbed my eyes as weariness overwhelmed me. So much to do in such a short space of time—and that wasn’t even factoring in the Fury shitstorm still waiting for me.

He must have heard it in my voice. “Give me your address and an hour. I’ll be there with pizza and your favorite PJs.”

Okay, maybe I’d been wrong before. Pizza and comfy PJs—now
that
was love. Not to mention, the best offer I’d gotten all damned day.
I just might have to keep him around for good this time . . .

 

 

EVEN ON A SUNDAY MORNING, SAHANA COULD be found elbow-deep in some poor bastard’s chest cavity while she hummed her eerie Raga song. The morgue was like a 24-hour diner—open 365 days a year—and Sahi was its fearless manager who kept everything running like clockwork. It helped that she was Hindu rather than Christian (Sundays were just another day for her) and that she moved to Boston specifically to get some breathing room away from her meddlesome family. As she’d confided to me before, she loved them like crazy, but that’s exactly what they did—drove her out of her ever-loving mind.

I watched her work her magic through the narrow viewing window, sipping on the hot cup of Starbucks coffee Trinity had been kind enough to provide this early weekend morning. Of course, neither Scott nor I mentioned that we’d already had a healthy dose of caffeine on the way over. Never let it be said that Yankee manners could be put to shame by good old Southern hospitality.

Speak of the devil and she shall put in her two cents. “How long do you think she’s gonna be?”

I tilted my head. “Judging by the pitch of her voice and the hairs raising on my neck, I’d say she should be done any . . . second . . . now.”

My dramatic pauses for effect were timed perfectly. Sahana’s body drooped a few seconds after, a clear sign she’d found the answers she’d been seeking, which was my cue. I handed off my cup to Scott. He and Trinity crossed the hall to Sahana’s office door while I slipped inside the autopsy room. Sahana managed a weak smile when I put my hands on her arms and guided her to the stainless steel sink so she could wash away the less savory traces of her career field.

“Sahi, Sahi. If you’re going to push yourself this hard, you have
got
to have someone in the room with you. A lab tech, a uniform, that cute guy your mom’s always trying to set you up with.
Some
body. One of these days you’re gonna lose yourself in the Raga song and then what?”

She paused in the act of lathering her hands with harsh yellow soap. “I expect the same thing that will happen when you keep pulling twelve-hour shifts without taking any days off, Chief.”

“Touché,” I muttered before shoving a wad of paper towels her way. “But at least I’m getting better at delegating. And seriously, why is there never a lab tech around to help you?”

Sahana finished patting her hands dry with precise movements—whether due to her exhaustion or innate perfectionist tendencies I wasn’t sure—and leaned against the heavy-duty sink. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me, and something . . .
hungry
. . . rippled across the pupils. My heart skidded fitfully, and the hairs along my neck rose straight up.

“Because it wouldn’t do at all for the Chief Arcane ME to suck the very life from her mortal lab tech’s flesh and bones unintentionally, now would it?” She said it in an offhanded, conversational tone that made it all the spookier.

I took an unconscious step backward, and she blinked, her expression returning to its usual pleasant manner. As a colorful friend of mine used to exclaim, shit fire and save
all
the matches. Intellectually knowing Sahana’s powers over life—and death—were like a powder keg just waiting to be lit and witnessing a little bit of that explosion in waiting were two very different things. I realized something else in that moment. The way I felt inside right now was the way people had been reacting to Sahana her entire life. It was one of the reasons Bhairavi Raga almost always retreated from the outside world and lived exceedingly hermetic lives, and
the
reason Sahana often immersed herself in her work for the PD. People drew away from her out of fear.

Well, not me.
I gritted mental teeth and arched a sardonic brow. “So, what? Was that supposed to make me wet my pants? I’ve eaten scarier things than you for breakfast, sugar.” Little white lies when the situation called for it: the mark of true friendship.

Surprise lit Sahana’s eyes, and her lips slowly curved upward. First chance I got, Sahana was
so
coming with Trinity and me for a girls’ night out. Right now, however, we had other things to focus on.

“Seriously, though, as Chief Magical Investigator, I’m going to have to insist we hire a couple of arcane lab techs to assist you where mortals can’t. The last thing the PD wants to do is lose its exceedingly valuable arcane ME to something that is entirely preventable. And the last thing
I
want to do is lose a friend through mortal personnel’s unwitting ignorance.”

She let out a relieved-sounding sigh. “You can do that?”