Hidden Trump (Bite Back 2) Read online

  I felt a mild panic as I looked at my reflection.

  I’m a freaking vampire.

  No, Athanate. Not the mythical vampire that burned in the sun, but a living, breathing person. Just one with a need to drink human blood. I’d get the fangs for it, too, even if they would only manifest for drinking. I’d felt mine a couple of times, but I’d never seen them and I hadn’t bitten anyone, yet. I was developing a phobia that they’d pop out and would stay there in plain sight, forcing me to go around with my hand in front of my mouth.

  A woman came in and caught me inspecting my gums.

  “Oh, my dear, you’re so right to check them.” She tripped across and laid a card on the surface next to me. A periodontist. My luck. “People can do all sorts of things with teeth, but if you lose your gums, that’s it. Come see me for a free evaluation. If you need treatment, you can put it on your accident claim. Don’t worry.” She flapped her hand. “I’ve seen everything.”

  “Ma’am,” I said, grinning, “you have no idea.”

  And I guessed my face did look as if I’d been in an accident. I took my bag of dusty clothes and went back out to the mall to buy a snack and a soft drink. No time for breakfast this morning, and nothing for dinner yesterday, if you didn’t count the soup.

  While I ate, I turned my cell back on. A bunch of messages from Tullah, my assistant. I felt a pang of guilt. She’d been waiting to hear I was okay. I wasn’t used to having people worrying about me.

  I gave her a call, but got her voicemail. Things must be busy at work. I told her to meet me at Washington Park. I’d lost Hoben’s guys, but they might be watching the office as well as Jen’s place, where we’d been working temporarily. Better to meet somewhere they wouldn’t be looking for me, and where I’d be able to spot them if they followed her.

  The next message was from Bian. This one I couldn’t ignore.

  Two weeks ago, I’d been fighting against becoming Athanate, and losing, even if I’d denied it. Then I’d met and been adopted by Altau, the Athanate House in Denver. They’d decided I warranted my own subsidiary House and allocated Bian to advise me on what that meant. But until I swore allegiance to House Altau at the formal Athanate Assembly this coming weekend, it wasn’t a done deal. And until I got that protection, it was hunting season, with me as game.

  Yeah, Altau were definitely my new best friends.

  My world hadn’t completely been turned on its head. I would still kill myself rather than become Basilikos Athanate like Matlal. One of the two major creeds of the Athanate, Basilikos regarded humans as food.

  But the thought of being part of the Panethus Athanate, the alternative creed, wasn’t so bad any more. Panethus worked to make their relationship beneficial to both humans and Athanate, and Altau were the leading House in Panethus.

  There was a problem here; I didn’t have any guarantee what type I’d end up as. I hadn’t had enough time to find out very much about the Athanate at all, and nothing particularly about why there was a difference between Basilikos and Panethus. Athanate needed emotional sustenance as well as blood—why did Basilikos feed on fear and Panethus on love? What if I became Basilikos? Was it a gradual process that could happen without my realizing it? I’d seen enough to know your head can play games with you. I’d changed even over the last two weeks, and things felt different to me. How would I know if I was going in the wrong direction?

  For that matter, what if I just went completely rogue?

  The Athanate survived by controlling their instincts. Even Basilikos were careful not to attract the attention of the normal world. But the sensations were difficult to master. I hadn’t experienced them yet, but I’d had plenty of warnings. Athanate, especially new Athanate, were liable to lose themselves in the pleasures, and if unchecked, quickly descended into insanity.

  I couldn’t face the thought I might become Basilikos. Or rogue. I shuddered. I had to pick up on that with Diana.

  Diana was second in command to Skylur at House Altau, and I just felt she was slightly more approachable on this. I couldn’t quite figure out where Bian came in the hierarchy. Possibly third. Diana and Skylur were scary as hell; Bian was different. And scary.

  Enough daydreaming; I had to talk to her. That presented a Bian-shaped problem all its own. Our last conversation had ended with her leaning through the window of my car, licking her lips and showing fangs. I’d made a joke and she’d upped the ante. Like the best of running jokes, I was kinda nervous about my turn and unsure where the game ended and reality took over.

  She answered on the second ring.

  “Hello, Round-eye.” She sounded as if she’d just woken, but I didn’t know what to make of that. I had no idea what her hours were. She’d never failed to answer a call from me at any hour.

  “Morning, Pussycat,” I said. “Why am I picturing your spotted shoulders peeping out above silky white sheets?” She’d made some tattooist very happy when she commissioned him to turn her neck and shoulders into leopard skin.

  “They’re silky black sheets. Are you calling me for phone sex?” she purred. “Why not just come right on over instead?”

  I should have known better than to try and tease her. “I’m calling because you left me a message asking me to.”

  “Oh, that. It was nothing, just a TV news item with some idiot leaping off a building and hitching a ride on a helicopter like a monkey dangling from a branch. It’ll probably go viral on the net.”

  I winced. I was supposed to be a discreet PI; I didn’t want my face all over the news or the net and Altau didn’t either. The only good thing was that the press couldn’t have been at the Nexus in time to film it; this would be someone’s cell phone video, and the picture would be small and jerky. But Bian was head of security for Altau—it was her job to make sure the Athanate stayed under the radar. Which was no doubt why I was getting this call.

  “Ah. Yes, that was me, on Jennifer Kingslund’s case.”

  “Busy girl, Amber.” There was a pause, and I expected her to warn me about the danger of drawing attention to the Athanate through my actions. Instead, she said, “Are you okay?”

  Before I could stop it, the demon that sometimes takes over my throat said, “Why, Pussycat, I didn’t know you cared.”

  She gave a snort. “I’m supposed to be educating you in your duties as House Farrell,” she said. “Imagine the embarrassment if you went splat on the sidewalk during my watch.”

  This was the Bian I knew and—kind of—liked. “I’m battered and bruised but fine, thanks,” I said.

  That appeared to be the extent of her concern about security issues. Maybe she really was checking to make sure I was okay. Stranger things had happened. “You should stop by,” she said. “We can use my special Vietnamese oils for treating bruises.”

  “Hmm. Yeah.” I was pretty sure I knew where that would lead. “You may be more interested to hear what happened after.”

  Something about the way I said it alerted her and the banter disappeared. “What?”

  “A couple of Matlal’s crew tailed me, tried to capture me.”

  “Matlal? Why?” All trace of sleep was gone from her voice.

  “I think the idea was to capture me for Hoben. It looks like Matlal’s loaned some guys to Hoben, probably to make sure he doesn’t go underground. Matlal figures Hoben owes him for the drug shipment that was busted.”

  “You said capture? You mean Hoben wants you alive?”

  “Seems so, according to one of the guys. I doubt it would be for a long time.”

  “Huh. And these Matlal people, how did you get rid of the bodies?” She was all business now, the Altau head of security.

  “Ah. I left them alive. Only one was House Matlal. I shot him when he turned a gun on me, but he was still alive when I left. I think the other guy was under some kind of compulsion, so I just tied him up. I wasn’t sure what you’d want me to do.”

  “Uninvited Basilikos in our mantle?” she said. “Bring them to us securely if
you can, otherwise kill them and call it in. It’s really not helping us to leave them free.”

  Great. She sounded pissed that I’d let them go.

  “That’s pretty terminal,” I said. “And how wide’s that mantle?”

  “Say fifty miles of the Capitol. But no one’s going to argue about a couple of House Matlal, or their affiliates. They shouldn’t be this side of the Rio Grande without special permission.”

  I’d bet there were more than a couple. If only one of the cars that Larry had mentioned had Matlal people in it, that would still mean a half-dozen of them in all. That was overkill for watching Hoben. What else was going on? If Larry made it to our meeting tomorrow evening, I was going to have to pump him for information.

  I debated telling Bian about Larry, but decided to keep our meeting to myself for the moment. The Altau cared about Matlal, and possibly about me, though I wouldn’t bet the farm on that. They weren’t interested in Hoben—or, more important, in Jen’s safety. That was my responsibility. Once I’d extracted the information I needed from Larry, I could turn him over to Bian if necessary. If he even showed up.

  “All right, sorry,” I said to Bian. “Also, it wasn’t just a couple, I think. There were some others. They were trying to spring a trap, catch me between two groups.”

  “Two plus some others? Five? Ten? Fifty?” She muttered something in Athanate. From the tone, I probably didn’t want to know what it was. “I know how well you take advice, Round-eye, but tackling unknown odds on your own is frigging dumb. You may be doing well so far, but you could come up against an older Athanate, and you wouldn’t know it until it was too late.” She made a frustrated sound, almost a growl. “Most times I’d say call a response team, but we haven’t any to spare right now. I think you’d better come in to Haven.”

  Haven was the Altau’s secret headquarters. It was a luxurious mansion on extensive grounds, with discreet guardhouses and surprises for any enemies who did manage to find it. Safe, but restrictive. Hiding out there wouldn’t solve my Hoben problem, or protect Jen. I hoped this was a suggestion, and not an order.

  “I can’t go into hiding, Bian,” I said. “I can’t leave Hoben free while I’m mixed up in the Assembly. And it’s not as if Matlal’s going to give Hoben people just to chase me. Today’s attack was the tail end of the Nexus thing—they were already in position, so Hoben just redeployed them.”

  “Have you got any leads on Hoben?”

  “Hmm.” We were back to Larry again. Holding out didn’t feel right—I was supposed to be strengthening my alliance with Altau, not giving them reasons to distrust me. But until I was sure my interests wouldn’t be subordinated to theirs, I needed to look out for myself. Altau would want to pump Larry for information about Matlal, and going by Bian’s comments about being in their mantle without permission, it wouldn’t end well for Larry. I don’t work like that.

  Luckily, Bian didn’t sense that I was holding out. “Well,” she said, “the next time you get a chance at Matlal’s guys, take them out.” She was quiet for a minute. “You know, you’re not very bloodthirsty for a former special ops girl. It sounds like you were running risks today to keep the body count down.”

  I made a face, though of course she couldn’t see that. “I’m a novice in the Athanate world. Not sure what’s justified. And if I start, where do I stop?”

  “It wasn’t a criticism, Round-eye.” She sighed.

  Now I felt like a complete shit for holding out.

  I gave her the Caddy’s license plate and promised to get her any useful information from their cell phones before I signed off.

  Bian was absolutely right about fighting Athanate. Those I had come across that day were young, which I thought meant less than twenty years as Athanate. I knew Diana and Skylur were much older, and probably Bian was too, and the thought of trying to fight any of them was frightening. They were too quick, too strong. I didn’t know how many of the Athanate were older, or how many of those might be loaned to Hoben. But Matlal wouldn’t leave many of them here at Hoben’s command. All I’d have to do was get past one or two younger ones and I’d get my shot at Hoben.

  I’d have to be careful, of course. And I had to do it before I got caught up in the Assembly. That made it a little harder, but I could handle that. Had to. Now, how?

  While I kicked ideas around, I got back on the I-25 and headed for Washington Park.

  Chapter 3

  I walked the circuit while waiting for Tullah.

  I was worried that Hoben might already be watching Tullah. And seeing how I was going to have to take the same precautions for Cheesman Park tomorrow, I got myself back into the habits I’d been taught in Ops 4-10. Start by not looking at individuals. Look at groups, shapes of groups, movements and immobility. Get a sense of anyone acting outside of the pattern. Then fix on them, rate them 1 to 10 on threat level. Were they alone, in a group, of a type? What were they dressed for? Then take action or move on.

  Despite doing all that, I spotted her easily, striding towards me with the sun gleaming on her straight, dark hair. I mix Arapaho and Irish, which can’t be that common. Tullah Autplumes-Leung mixed Arapaho and Chinese, and I’d lay good odds that was vanishingly rare. It just worked, apart from the surname. It gave her a fresh-faced, exotic look to match her cheerful optimism. I’d met her at martial arts training, at the Liu Leung Wu Shu Kwan, which her father ran. I’d hired her as a part-time secretary while she finished her degree in criminal law at the university.

  It turned out that was a setup. Tullah’s mother, Mary Autplumes, was an Adept, a magic user, and she’d wanted Tullah to keep an eye on me. Adepts and Athanate had an edgy relationship at the best of times. Mary had seen I was becoming Athanate and yet, she’d also seen I had a spirit guide, like an Adept. She wanted to know how and why.

  Hell, I wanted to know too.

  In any event, Tullah hadn’t been happy with Mary’s deception. When I’d started to get suspicious about a bracelet gift from Mary that turned out to be magical, Tullah and I persuaded Mary that we needed to be open with each other. Frustratingly, it raised more questions than answers. Like what problems a spirit guide might cause with the Athanate.

  And that was before we got onto the ‘workings’ that Mary said she could see in me—long-term magic that was so rare, she didn’t even know if it was a blessing or a curse.

  This was all yet another thing I hadn’t discussed with Altau.

  We’d left it that Tullah was going to continue working for me after she finished college. I was happy with that; she handled the bureaucracy far better than I did and her enthusiasm raised my spirits.

  But that was a couple of weeks ago, when we thought that somehow I wouldn’t end up as Athanate, or at least it was a long ways away. I couldn’t predict what Mary would do, and I couldn’t rely on it being to my benefit. Her agenda seemed very different from Altau’s. Or even mine, maybe.

  And what would Tullah do now? She was an Adept as well, and her mother had made it plain she should leave if I changed. And I felt I’d changed.

  I wanted Tullah to stay. We were friends as well as colleagues. I would miss her badly, and I doubted I could keep my PI firm going without her, given everything else that I was having to deal with.

  There was no sign of doubts about me in her easygoing smile as we met. She was obviously relieved that I wasn’t more beat-up than I was. And she’d brought me coffee. She knew me too well.

  I gave her a hug and relieved her of the coffee. “Walk a while,” I said quietly.

  She caught on, and we walked and watched as we spoke. I told her what I was doing and she said the man in the gabardine coat was a spy, of course. I grinned at that, but didn’t let it distract me.

  I also gave her a summary of what had happened earlier. When I got to the point of Tucker’s death I wondered how that was going to go down with her. The circumstances could hardly have put Athanate in a worse light, but I wasn’t going to hide the issue.

  “H
e was bitten by an Athanate, his fiancée, Inez Vega Martine,” I told her. “She told him he needed to die before he could become an Athanate. Complete bullshit, but he believed it. Vega Martine is House Matlal, and he just decided Tucker had become a liability.”

  “So he shot himself thinking he’d, like, resurrect as an Athanate,” said Tullah.

  “Yeah. Even if he hadn’t, that bite started the crusis, the critical phase as the body changes. Altau spend months getting Aspirants physically ready to survive the crusis. Tucker wasn’t ready and so he would have died anyway. He was already going insane from the effects. That’s probably what destroyed his judgment.”

  Tullah grimaced and shuddered. But she didn’t seem to take it as a mark against all Athanate, at least. “So that wraps up Jen’s case?”

  “No. Hoben’s still out there, and he’s worse than his father.”

  Tullah had been part of rescuing a girl from ZK last week, at risk to herself. The girl had been tortured and was about to be gang raped when we’d gotten her out. Tullah didn’t need me to press the point.

  I turned off the circuit to toss the coffee cup in the trash and took the opportunity to take a long look back the way we’d come. Schools were out and the park had gotten busier. It was harder to make out individuals in the crowd. No one suddenly changed their pattern of movement, or turned around as I watched. That didn’t prove anything though, other than there were no amateurs trailing us.

  “Tullah, have you ever trained with a gun?”

  “What? No.”

  “Right, starting this week, you put in at least two sessions a week at a range. You can use my Walther, but we’ll go find a suitable gun for you. And you’ll need to register. And get a concealed weapon permit.”