Blackhearted Betrayal (3 page)

Her voice lost its teasing edge. “I
do
know how little
sleep you usually get and wouldn’t disturb your rest unless it
was
important. New rumors are flying among the Elders that the Alecto Prime has cut off ties with the Tisiphone Prime.” Alecto, Tisiphone, and Megaera were the classes of Fury, and I was a Tisiphone.

I frowned. “Officially or unofficially?”

“Either way spells trouble, especially considering the Megaera Prime’s attacks upon our family and a new, even more disturbing development.”

“So when exactly are you ever going to call me with new, even
less
disturbing developments?”

“So when exactly are you going to give me another grandbaby?”

Oh, touché, Mom.
She knew just how much the thought of bringing children into the world at that time freaked me the hell out—and wasn’t adverse to throwing that in my face to shut me up. Something I might have done were the roles reversed: I was
so
my mother’s daughter.

“Okay, so tell me about this new,
more
disturbing development.”

“Maylin refused to appear before the Conclave when summoned yesterday.”

I sat up straight in bed, nearly dropping the phone in my rush. “Whoa, wait, what? Can she
do
that?”

Maylin Chang had the distinction of serving as Tisiphone Prime, meaning she ruled over the class of Furies both Mom and I belonged to with pretty much an iron fist. That being said,
all
sisters were subject to the authority of the Conclave of Fury Elders, our governing body, up to and including the Primes. The closest analogy among the mortals might be the difference between the state and federal governments in the U.S. Traditionally,
each class of Furies kept the identity of its Prime secret from the other classes—and most especially from non-Furies—but when the Conclave summoned, Primes were supposed to appear before a closed Conclave session under a cloak of anonymity, at which point they revealed their identity to the fifteen sisters who served on the Conclave’s Lesser Consensus. Those sisters were sealed under oath
not
to reveal the identity of any Prime.

“What did Maylin say when you asked her what the
hell
she was thinking?”

“She’s refusing to see me now, too.”

My heart sank because Mom was right; this really
was
a disturbing development. Mom and Maylin had become close friends during the Great War several decades earlier—what the mortals euphemistically referred to as the “Time of Troubles.” Our Prime had been one of the first to welcome Mom back from her MIA status with open arms and had pushed hard for the other Tisiphones to elect Mom to our vacant seat on the Conclave’s Lesser Consensus. She’d not yet been officially voted onto the Lesser Consensus, but things were looking pretty promising.

“Are you telling me that
Maylin
is the one pulling Nan’s puppet strings?”

My grandmother, Maeve (whom my family had called Nan for as long as I could remember), had miraculously awakened from a prolonged magical coma not too long ago, which
should
have been as amazingly good news as Mom’s being rescued from those mad scientists. Unfortunately, Nan wouldn’t talk to either of us and had inexplicably challenged Ekaterina, the sister serving as the head of the Lesser Consensus, to a duel for her seat on the Conclave’s ruling council. The levelheaded Nan Mom
and I knew would
never
return from the brink of death only to challenge another sister to a potentially deadly duel over what amounted to mere
politics
. Mom and I suspected that someone else had used dark magic to wake Nan from her coma and manipulate her into those bizarre actions, or else had killed Nan and was impersonating her magically. Not completely far-fetched, since Furies had impressive shape-shifting abilities.

“I’m not sure, but I don’t believe this is all coincidence any more than you do. I think it’s more important than ever that you bring Cori to the Palladium as soon as possible. I’ll feel better if you’re both here where I and my allies can watch over you until we figure out what is going on in our class—not to mention the strife with the other two classes.”

I glanced at my bedside clock. “I have to finish filling Trinity in on some administrative details before I start my official leave, but I can grab Cori first thing in the morning and meet you at the rendezvous point.”

“Will you be able to drag yourself out of bed early enough to meet us at 9:00
A
.
M
.?”

I ignored her gentle dig.
“Us?”

Her tone turned grim. “Given the number of near
accidents
we’ve had lately, I recruited Laurell and Patricia for escort duty.”

“Oh, good, I’ve fought beside those two before. Wicked fierce in battle.”

“Exactly why they were my first choice. That, plus their staunch support of my bid for the Conclave seat the past few months.”

“I better get going so I can finish everything I need today and make sure Cori will be ready in time. See you at nine tomorrow morning, then?”

“Sounds good. You take care, darling, and bring Cori to me safely.”

“Will do, Mom. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

I couldn’t help the goofy grin that spread across my face whenever she said that. Having her back in my life after more than twenty years of believing her dead was hands down the best thing to happen to me in ages. Granted, getting back together with Scott had made me ecstatic, but nothing and no one could compare to your mother—or love you quite the same. Which made Nan’s incomprehensible behavior to her own daughter all the more unbelievable.

We’ll figure out
who
has screwed with her head, and we’ll make things right again.

I had to believe that—any other result was simply unthinkable.

TRINITY LARUE LOOKED UP FROM A BOWL OF
gruel when I leaned against the doorjamb of her office next door to mine in the PD. “
How
on earth can you eat that squirrel food?” She finished chewing with what had to be pretended bliss. I refused to believe anyone could actually
enjoy
eating sugarless granola cereal with fat- and taste-free milk.

“It’s good for you. Much better than all that sugar and caffeine
you
ingest.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got to keep my Fury metabolism fueled, thank you very much.”

“You’re such a lucky bitch that you
never
gain an ounce despite all that junk you shovel into your face.”

“Yes, well, that souped-up metabolism comes along
with assassination attempts every other day and the danger of Turning Harpy whenever I channel Rage.”

She wrinkled her nose sympathetically. “True, I’ll take the health food and my newfound gym-addict status over the constant death threats and uncontrollable anger.”

“Don’t forget:
You’re
the one with the Spyder.” Her eyes went a little dreamy at the mention of the electric blue sports car her older brothers had rebuilt for her thirtieth birthday not that long before. It sure as hell beat the MCU’s land whale of a stakeout van that I commandeered whenever flying on my own two wings or taking the subway just wouldn’t do. “You ready for me to get you up to speed on where everything stands?”

Trinity and I had worked together on the Boston police force for several years before we officially formed the MCU, with me as chief and her as deputy chief. She’d been assuming more and more responsibility as I managed to loosen up my controlling ways and conquer my fear for her safety as the lone 100 percent mortal on our team. Once she called me out on that tendency to coddle her, I’d done my best to curb the habit. She’d proven herself on every occasion, and she sure as hell deserved my respect.

She spooned up the last bite of squirrel food and popped up to come around her desk. Her office was
nearly
as compact of mine—minus the conference table and chairs squeezed against the wall—so I immediately noticed the oversized vase of calla lilies when she brushed past the credenza upon which she had placed it. The extremely
expensive
vase of calla lilies, which I knew were her favorite flower.

“Well,
somebody
must have gotten lucky last night.”

A smile spread across her face as she gave a saucy wink. “Oh, like you
didn’t
after you and that Hound of yours got half-drunk last night.”

“Me
less
than half-drunk and him
more
than half-drunk, thank you very much.” Thanks to that whole Fury metabolism I had going on, which gave me the opportunity to play designated driver with Scott’s zippy red Ferrari. “But wait, I didn’t see you leave the reception with Penn’s brother.”

“That’s because I didn’t.”

“You little vixen, you! So if things didn’t pan out with Tariq, who are the flowers from?”

Her smile took on a mysterious edge. “That’s for me to know, and you to
maybe
find out, if things keep going as well as they have been the past little while.”

“Damn tease. At least tell me if I know the guy.”

“You have previously made his acquaintance, I believe.” She pushed me gently away from her doorway. “Now, that’s all the info you’re allowed until you get back from your leave, or we’ll
never
get any work done because you’ll be busy hounding me or, even worse, the poor guy who may very well at
some
point get lucky.”

Trinity dated a lot—with her good looks, sharp brains, and sly sense of humor, no surprise there—but she guarded her heart carefully and took her time before deciding whether a guy was worth getting more intimate with. She was like me in that regard, probably one of the reasons we had connected so well as partners. For all our differences, we had a lot of the same core values. Like our dedication to the MCU and protecting the people of Boston from various and sundry magical crimes. I couldn’t think of a better person, mortal
or
arcane, to entrust my city with during my absence. Good
thing, too, because there really wasn’t anyone else I
could
entrust it to.

We spent the next few hours going over various mundane—but necessary—administrative minutiae, with me trying like crazy to ferret out more details from her regarding the guy who had sent her such lovely flowers. She didn’t crack the slightest bit, taking extreme pleasure in watching me try without success to guess who the new man in her life was. I finally gave up when we knocked off for the night, she presumably to head off for a dinner date with Mr. Mysterious, and me heading to Scott’s apartment so we could hopefully enjoy a repeat of the night before—minus the overbearing Harpy Queen—before I left for gods knew how long to clean house in the Palladium. A Fury’s job was just
never
done.

WITH AS MANY PEOPLE AS HAD TRIED TO KILL
me over the years, you’d think I would get used to it. Then again, the fact I hadn’t
completely
gotten used to it was the reason nobody had yet managed to do me in, not permanently anyway. Temporary death—there’d been a few of those. Nothing I’d like to repeat anytime soon—especially considering how much I’d pissed off Scott’s Jackal-Faced god that last time. Being two times a cop—Fury and Chief Magical Investigator—meant two times the psychos out for my blood. Of course, getting that very real threat through my fifteen-year-old niece’s head at precisely nine the next morning was easier said than done.

“Aunt Riss, I just don’t understand wh—”

I turned from the subway entrance and narrowed my eyes at my soon-to-be apprentice. “What part of
be quiet
did you
not
understand, apprentice?”

She flushed when I used her title rather than name and had the sense to actually shut her trap. Stubborn she might be (hmm, wonder where she got
that
from?), but she learned quickly, a quality that would serve her well during her training. Assuming I could keep her alive long enough to swear her oaths to the Sisterhood. A flash of red teased my peripheral vision, and I whirled, instinctively placing my body in front of Cori’s. Normally, the red leather uniform of a Fury meant safety and support, but not so much these days, with civil war brewing among the three classes of Furies.

The hint of red
did
prove to be a Fury’s uniform, but no threat to Cori or me. My mother swept out of the subway station’s door, flanked by the two Furies she had mentioned the day before. Mom zeroed in on us straightaway. She nodded to each of her informal bodyguards, who took up posts at the sides of the doorway while Mom jogged the last few feet separating us. We exchanged smiles, but she focused most of her attention on Cori, drawing her into a bear hug and murmuring into her ear. Cori alternately grinned and flushed, torn between adolescent pride and embarrassment over the big deal Mom was making over her. No surprise she made such a fuss; it was the first time she’d seen Cori since the teen Fledged into her Fury powers a few days before.

“While your aunt and I
are
proud of you, Concordia Joy,” Mom said, “you’ll also find we expect a great deal from you. To start with, you must remember to treat us always as elder Furies first, your aunt and grandmother second.”