Malice in Wonderland (19 page)

Then something else occurred to me. "So why is my window open? And how were you able to get through my door when I dead bolted it last night?"

Bram shook his head again and made a big show of shrugging. "I have a master key," he said simply. "And as to the open window, perhaps it was a spirit who visited you. I have heard more than once that my home is haunted."

"It wasn't a
freakin
' spirit!" I yelled, but stopped once I realized what a complete and total waste of words this conversation was. "Anyway, what time is it?"

"It is nearly dawn, Sweet," the frustrating vampire responded. "I am en route to my bedchamber, but please make
yourself
comfortable. The manor is surrounded by guards to ensure your safety. Feel free to peruse my library, or if you prefer to watch the
telly
, there is one in the theater." He paused as he eyed me for a few seconds. "My home is your home," he said at last, seeming to stress each word. It was a strange thing to say, or maybe the strangeness was more in his delivery. 'Course, Bram was the epitome of the word "strange" so when it came down to it, nothing he said or did ever really
surprised
me.

"How long am I supposed to stay here?" I asked, sounding annoyed.

"Until your leader tells me otherwise," Bram answered, scowling. I supposed it was because my question hinted that I wasn't exactly thrilled at playing the part of Bram's hostage. "I shall bid you adieu, my sweet, until we reconvene later this evening." He paused with a lofty smile. "You shall find another gown in your wardrobe for tonight's festivities."

Before I could respond, he simply turned around,
and t
aking long strides from the room, left me to my own defenses.

#
##

I took Bram up on his offer to make his home my own by deciding to engage in a little recon, yes, a little snooping. I still couldn't abandon the thought that maybe Bram wasn't as squeaky clean as he tried to make me believe.

Once he left my bedroom, I immediately got dressed in my clothes from the day before. Then I waited for the sun to saturate everything in its bright yellow rays, which meant there was no way in hell Bram could still be out and about. Well, that is, unless he had a death wish and planned to go out dramatically as a pile of ash.

I started for the door, opening it cautiously, because I expected the guard on the other side would probably quiz me about why I was venturing away from my room. I’d already planned to say that I was hungry and in search of food, but when I opened the door, there wasn't a guard in sight. Figuring that was a good sign, I started down the hallway. Bram's library was probably the best place to start my search for any clues about exactly what sort of business Bram was involved in.

Now if I could just locate the library ... I figured it was down the hallway from my bedroom, since Bram said he was en route to his library when he heard me
moaning ...

Hades be damned, I didn't imagine
I'd
ever let myself live this one down.

Forcing my thoughts back to my quest, and what I was after, I wasn't really sure. I just hoped I might find something that would shed some light on whether Bram really was involved with the Netherworld and more precisely, my father. I figured if I could find his ledger books, they would be a good place to start.

I hurried down the hallway leading from my bedroom to what I hoped was the library. I passed two bedrooms along the way, both of their doors wide open. The third door, at the end of the hall, however, was closed. With my heart in my throat, I reached for the knob and turned it, only to find it locked. Dammit. 'Course, a trifling, little lock couldn't keep a fairy who knew what she was doing out. I simply shook my hand until a mound of fairy dust appeared in my palm. Then I held my palm above the doorknob and opened my fingers, watching the spray of glitter dust the knob. At the same time, I imagined the locking device unlatching and the door opening. Seconds later, the door did as I commanded.

Bram's library was in one word—impressive. Every wall had floor to ceiling books and all the windows were meticulously covered by thick, damask curtains. I closed the door behind me and locked it from the inside as I started forward. The wood of the bookshelves was stained black to match the lush black carpet, for which I was incredibly thankful as it muffled the sound of my footsteps. In the middle of the room was a large desk, also stained black, with a behemoth leather chair just behind it. I hurried around the desk, quickly scanning the desktop for anything that could be of interest to me. But, it appeared Bram was a tidy vampire and there wasn't a thing out of place—not even an errant hair. I opened the first drawer of his desk and found pens and paper. The next drawer held a calculator, rolls of packing tape, boxed pencils and pens—nothing of interest to me. The next drawer down was locked. And a locked drawer meant I wanted it open.

I shook my fist until I could feel my fairy dust and dumped it hurriedly on top of the drawer, bending down until my eye was at the keyhole. I carefully blew the falling dust to make sure some of it actually entered the
keyhole. Then, in the same way I imagined the library door unlocking, I envisioned an invisible key turning in the keyhole as I watched the drawer open
itself
. Inside was a notebook with a piece of paper folded in half on top of it. I picked up the piece of paper, unfolded it, and read:

I have chosen sides.

My heart stopped beating for about two seconds as Bram's message sunk into me.

He's already chosen sides? What? But which side did he choose?

The answer suddenly became abundantly evident. Bram had left the note for me, which meant he expected me to go snooping, which was also probably why he’d dropped that little hint about heading to the library to work on his ledgers. He must have figured that I would try to get to the bottom of whether or not The Resistance could trust him, and therefore, he’d, more or less, led me here. I couldn't imagine any other reason for this sudden turn of good luck. Yep, Bram was offering me the information I otherwise would have had to work for myself. And thank Hades for that because it wasn't as though time was on my side. Not when a war with the Netherworld still hung like a pendulum over all of our heads.

Knowing Bram wouldn't want his letter discovered, I folded it and wedged it into my sock before grabbing the notebook directly underneath it and sifting through the pages. What I saw made me nearly choke on my own tongue.

February 23, 2009
             
Hemogrophit
.................................3
lbs
, $500,000..................................Sawyer Peninsula
             
Grondelbit
.....................................16
oz
, $20,000...................................Frazier St.
             
Ruthsbane
.....................................2
oz
, $75,000.....................................Holden Hall

It was a list of illegal potions, along with the weight of each potion, the money charged, and the various locations for each proposed drop off.

I had to look away from the ledger as I summed everything up in my head and tried not to gag on the information. So Bram had been involved in the illegal potions trade all along? It was a rhetorical question. The answer was as obvious as the ledger I gripped in my hands. I glanced down at the date again.

Two thousand nine! This has been going on for at least three years and I’ve never even realized it!

While I felt my whole being deflate on
itself
while
gaugi
ng the extent of Bram's deceit, I refused to allow myself the luxury of dwelling on my own anger and shock. Nope, I couldn’t—I didn’t have the time. Instead, I focused on the fact that there had to be a reason Bram wanted me to find this. There had to be a reason he’d led me here, sacrificing himself in the process. Something was going on that was more of a worry to Bram than giving up his own game. And that thought scared the shit out of me.

I flipped through twenty or so pages of the notebook and found similar entries, only more recent. Flipping to the back of the notebook, I found nothing but blank pages. Backtracking, I saw the most recent entry was exactly one week ago, when Bram noted a potion delivery of
Arson Flower
to the loading docks near Splendor.

So why suddenly decide to come clean with all of this? What changed Bram’s mind? I mean, he’s been lying to me all along—ever since I first became involved with the ANC. Even when he accompanied me to the Netherworld, he told me he’d stopped working with my father more than one hundred years ago. So why break his silence now?

I glanced back at the drawer, but it was empty. Now on a mission, I shut it and opened the top drawer on the opposite side. There
were
nothing but Post-It note packs. Nothing was written on them. I closed the drawer and opened the next one down.
A filing drawer.
I opened a few of the first files, but found nothing more interesting than Bram's car insurance, some leather bound book club he
’d
signed up for, and various permits to run No Regrets. Nothing I could use.

Opening the next drawer down, I hit the jackpot. There, staring up at me proudly was Bram's cell phone. And just like the note and the ledgers, it was blatantly obvious that he’d left it for me to find. I picked it up and thought I might pass out when I clicked the power button and was greeted with a password prompt. All my hopes and dreams of solving the riddle of why Bram would lead me on this quest died with the prompt for his password.

Shit
, I whispered to myself.
Shit. Shit. Shit
shit
shit
!

T
hen I realized there was no way Bram would have taken me this far just to have me come up empty-handed. He had to have left me a clue. I wracked my brain, trying to think of something.

Facing the phone, I entered "sweet," and when that failed, "
Dulcie
,” “
Dulce
,” and “ANC," but none of them worked. I tried "dear" and "my dear" without success. Then I re-entered each of the words again, trying with caps and without caps. Still, no go.

Then I remembered the strange way Bram had said the words "My home is your home." I figured it was worth a shot, especially since I didn't have anything else. I entered the word "home" into the phone. Nope. I entered "your home."
Nada.
No good. "My home"
still
no go. Fearing that I was soon going to lose my mind if I didn't get the damn thing unlocked, I entered: "MHIYH", the first letters of each word.

I felt my breath catch as the phone unlocked itself. Immediately, I clicked on the phone icon and discovered a short list of "numbers dialed." Grabbing Bram's folded note from my sock, I reached for a pen from the top of his desk and wrote down every number I could see: a total of four. Then I clicked on the "received calls" button and wrote down the five numbers I found there. As soon as I wrote down the last number received, the phone began to vibrate and I nearly dropped it. A text message popped up on screen that said:

Tonight.
Midnight.
Culligan's
.

I quickly wrote "
Culligan's
" down next to the list of phone numbers. Then below that, I wrote the number from which the text had originated. I clicked on the icon for text messages, but noticed Bram had already cleared them out. Returning the phone to its drawer, I shut it and turned to my
list of numbers
.

Picking up the cordless phone on Bram's desk, I dialed the first number in the list of "numbers dialed." There were a few beeps before the operator's voice came on to tell me the number was changed or disconnected. Crossing the number off my list, I tried the next number.
Same thing.
Third number started to ring.

One ring.
Two rings. Three rings.

"Bram?" a female voice answered.

I immediately hung up and tried to squelch the shock that fluttered from deep down within me. Why?
Because Christina was the woman on the other line.

So what?
I chided myself.
Bram admitted that Christina visited him on more than one occasion, so what does it matter that they exchanged phone numbers? It could be totally meaningless. In fact, it probably is totally meaningless …

After deciding I had a good point, I turned to the fourth number on the list and dialed it, only to find it was also disconnected. I crossed it off my list and turned to the list of phone numbers received. Four of the numbers were the same ones that were now canceled. The other two were Christina.

I sighed long and deep, trying to fight the feeling that there was something ominous about Bram and Christina being close enough to receive calls from one another. Maybe the reason the information bothered me so much was because neither Christina nor Knight ever hinted to Bram being involved
in any of this Resistance related stuff
. And Knight was absolutely pissed when he found out that Christina had arranged for me to stay with Bram.