Blackhearted Betrayal (4 page)

Cori let out a huff of air. “Now you sound like
her
.”

Another arch of the brow. “Where do you think
she
got it from?”

I laughed outright. “Oh so true, I’m afraid. Stacia may have been my official mentor, but Mom taught me a lot about being a Fury before she disappeared.”

Mom and I exchanged a grim glance. That was another of those shared griefs that would never fully go away.

The hair on the back of my neck stirred, and my body tensed in response to a sudden surge of adrenaline. Someone was channeling magic nearby. It might have been a mere coincidence, but …

Trusting survival instincts honed over the past two decades, I nodded toward the door. “We should get a move on.”

Mom placed an arm along Cori’s shoulder and nudged her forward. “Of course. Laurell will serve as our rear guard while Patricia clears our forward path.” The second-named Tisiphone nodded before vanishing in the direction from which they had appeared. Laurell waited until we followed and fell in behind us.

Passersby who caught sight of Mom’s red leather (Cori and I were wearing more anonymous street clothes) gave us a wide berth on the staircase to the subway platform. Halfway down the steps, we channeled Fury magic to camouflage our little entourage. While not technically invisible, we became nearly impossible for mortals—and most arcanes—to detect, as much for the mortals’ peace of mind as our safety. They tended to freak out when winged demigoddesses leaped atop speeding train cars to reach the magical portals sprinkled throughout Boston’s underground railway system.

Despite my sudden sense of unease, we made it to the platform unaccosted, other than my bum knee’s pitching a fit as I jogged down the stairs. Magical and medical remedies, including physical therapy, promised a brighter
prognosis than when I had originally injured it, but both would take time to pay off. For the moment, I just had to grin and bear the pain.

Patricia waited for us at the empty end of the platform, eyeballing the area for any signs of danger. Laurell no doubt did the same from behind. While I only knew the two vaguely, what I
did
know reassured me. One of those rare mated pairs of Furies, they were unfailingly loyal to the Sisterhood and, most especially, other Tisiphones. Knowing they had watched Mom’s back when I couldn’t had given me enough peace of mind to finish up my police duties on the serial-killer case and now made me feel better about getting Cori safely to the Palladium. Of course, that thought no sooner crossed my mind than trouble struck.

Goose bumps pricked my skin as the hair on my neck rose once more. Someone had once again channeled the barest hint of magic nearby. I didn’t waste time thinking, just shifted to full Fury form. Mortal honey blond hair surrendered to charcoal locks that snapped in the magical breeze caused by transformation. Boring blue eyes changed to glowing green orbs meant to inspire terror. My jeans and T-shirt became identical to Mom’s red leather pants, sleeveless vest, and flat-heeled, knee-high boots. Most impressive of all were the twin tattoos along each upper arm that morphed into living, breathing serpents: the magical familiars called Amphisbaena, who amped up my own arcane abilities.

Nemesis and Nike hissed in response to my mental warning of potential ambush and wound their way from upper arms to lower, ready to aid me if needed. Mom and the other two Tisiphones picked up on whatever bad
vibes I’d caught, and we drew a protective circle around our most vulnerable member.

Cori gulped and shot me an uneasy glance. “Aunt Ri—I mean, Marissa?”

“Shh,” I murmured, and tried to figure out what had set my inner alarms blazing. Barely a dozen mortals stood at the opposite end of the platform, also waiting for the next northbound train. A couple of arcanes—shifters of some sort—stood across the tracks waiting for the next southbound train. No magical currents vibrated in the air other than the eddies left behind by my sudden transformation. Why, then, was I so sure something bad was about to go down?

I turned to confer with Mom, only to notice Laurell stepping close to Cori. My skin crawled even more when I saw her serpent tattoos flash briefly, seeming to shimmer from Tisiphone red to Megaera green, then back again.
Shit, an imposter.
Managing to mask the sudden flicker of realization from my face, I sent a magical feeler toward Patricia. The arcane feedback bouncing from her to me screamed purely Tisiphone, so that was one less worry; though when she figured out someone had taken out her mate long enough to impersonate her, there would be hell to pay.

All this transpired in a few breaths’ worth of time, but it was just long enough for the imposter to yank Cori away from my mother’s side and aim a magical weapon at the Fury she considered the biggest threat. No big surprise that turned out to be me. I had a reputation for shooting first, asking questions
never
when it came to loved ones.

Mom whirled, confusion on her face, but froze when she saw Cori held in front of Fake Laurell and the
weapon pointed at me. Patricia’s breath hitched, and she let out a choked, “Laur?” before registering the inescapable conclusion.
This wasn’t Laurell.

“Drop it!” I growled.

Knowing what I meant, the imposter allowed her disguise to fall away, revealing someone I
should have
but hadn’t expected: Durra, the bitch who’d been infatuated with Vanessa and irrationally blamed me for her death. Durra had also tried to abduct Cori just days before. Some people apparently never learned.

“This is becoming a habit of yours, Megaera.” She took my insult of using title rather than name without batting an eyelash. “But really. Ambushing me twice in subway stations? How pathetically predictable.” Fake it till you can make it, I always say. She didn’t need to know just how fast fear for Cori had my pulse racing.

Patricia hissed when she recognized the dark-skinned Megaera facing us. “If you’ve harmed Laurell,
sister
, I’ll carve you into pieces with my bare claws!” No idle threat, considering that her Fury talons had broken through her skin the moment she spoke.

“Peace, Tisiphone. Laurell has merely been—detained—upstairs. She is unharmed.”

“She better be,” came the growled response.

Mom bit out a growl of her own. “Do you
have
a death wish, Durra of the Megaera? Interfering with an Elder Fury escorting a candidate to the Palladium—days after attempting to abduct the same candidate—who is also that Elder’s granddaughter by blood. I could flay the flesh from your bones, and none would gainsay me.”

Durra winced, skin paling several shades. Still, her weapon never wavered. “I appear in the name of the Megaera to summon you two sisters of the Tisiphone into
her presence. This candidate will stand hostage for your goodwill until you leave the Megaera’s presence. Safe passage to and from the Megaera’s hall is granted. Failure to answer the summons means that this candidate shall remain hostage until such time as you do appear.”

Mom and I glanced at each other with deer-trapped-in-headlights expressions. Prime Furies typically only had the power to compel sisters from their own classes to appear before them. It was an absolute power but finite in that it applied only to the class over which they ruled. The only exceptions to that were when two Primes issued a summons jointly—virtually unheard of—or during times of war. As far as I knew, no such war had been declared.

Surely we would have
heard
if a formal declaration had been …

That thought faded when reality intruded. In all the millennia the Sisterhood had policed the arcane races, one thing had always held true: The Sisterhood stood united against the other species. Never once had we devolved into warring among ourselves, not to the extent that civil war had ever been declared. Even now, when sister fought against sister, would that unspoken rule be broken? No; to the outside world, appearances must be maintained. Formal war would never be declared if that war was waged within. The Sisterhood
would
stand together as far as others were concerned.

Among ourselves, however, battle lines were clearly being drawn.

“M—Marissa?”

That choked comment came from a shaken Cori. She looked like she wanted to open a can of kickass on Durra the way she had before, but at the same time she trusted me
to handle things so that she wouldn’t have to. I would
die
before I let her down.

“What assurances do
we
have that the Megaera will keep
her
word?”

Durra shook in Rage, taking the insult toward her superior much worse than the one to herself. Holding on to her temper took visible effort. Finally, she managed to grit her teeth and let out a sharp whistle. Moments later, a half dozen Megaeras strode down the staircase and stopped just behind Durra. Make that five Megaeras and one pissed-off Tisiphone.

Patricia let out a relieved breath when she recognized Laurell. All I could notice was the fact that we were outnumbered, barely, but outnumbered all the same. Especially considering that, in a fight, Cori would be way more hindrance than help.

One of the newcomers held out a ceremonial olive branch, the arcane version of a white flag and far more respected by our kind than its mortal equivalent. That they carried it meant they truly wished us no harm. Betraying its promise of safety would make them oathbreakers in the eyes of the gods and mark them for death—nasty, not-at-all-quick death. The Megaera with the olive branch nudged Laurell, who stalked past Durra without a word and took her place beside Patricia. That Megaera then stepped in front of Mom and went down on one knee. “I stand hostage for the Megaera’s goodwill while you appear before her.”

Mom opened her mouth to make some no-doubt-diplomatic response, but I beat her to the punch. “And who are you to her that we should give a shit?”

The other Megaeras bristled at this outright insult, but Durra hushed them so the branch-bearer could
answer. “I am the Megaera’s great-aunt and mentor. She will not break her word, and any Megaera who violates her edict shall be executed.”

I blinked, then blinked again. Prime Furies
did
have the right to execute traitors to their classes without trial, but it was a right even more rarely exercised than summoning sisters outside their own classes. The Megaera was playing hardball. This
had
to have something to do with Nan, recently awakened from her twenty-year coma only to jump into a political hotbed, not to mention the Prime Tisiphone refusing to appear before the Conclave. Why else would the Megaera first try to kill me, abduct Cori, and blockade my mother only to seek a conference with those she opposed?

My pulse picked up speed when I realized the Prime Megaera’s offering a reciprocal hostage gave us another bargaining chip to hold over her head should the necessity arise. Each class jealously guarded the identity of its Prime sister to prevent others from tampering with her sovereignty. With the Megaera’s great-aunt as hostage, however, it would be easy to discern the identity of our hostage and work backward to discover the Prime’s identity as well. The Megaera knew this and was making a clear statement. Her desire to speak with us was great and, should treachery arise, it would
not
come about on her end. Of course, by claiming Cori as hostage, she guaranteed it would not come about on
our
end, either.

I touched Mom’s arm and nodded slightly. She let out a deep breath before speaking. “We two sisters of the Tisiphone accept your standing as goodwill hostage for the Prime Megaera and further accept her summons and offer of safe conduct.”

Cori let out a breath of her own and shot an uneasy
glance from Mom to me. Further demonstrating that she
could
be taught, however, she kept her lips zipped. The branch-bearer nodded and moved to stand between Patricia and a still-simmering Laurell. I stepped closer to Cori to offer her reassurances. Durra bared her teeth but made no move to stop me.

I kept my voice low and calm. “I’m afraid you’ll have to spend some time with these—sisters—of ours while Allegra and I meet with the Prime Megaera. My previous instruction still stands.” I.e.,
be quiet
. “We’ll be as quick as we can.”

She gave a brave nod and even managed the ghost of a smile, falling back without protest when Durra nudged her toward the Megaeras behind her. “If you two will come with me?”

Like we had a choice.

While I reassured Cori, Mom wasted no time giving instructions to Patricia and Laurell. They would head on to the Palladium as planned while we went along with the Megaeras like good little girls. Yeah, just
thinking
that had me rolling my eyes. I was about as far from being a good little girl as, say, the Jackal-Faced god was from being a cute and cuddly puppy dog.

I EXPECTED DURRA TO LEAD US AWAY FROM
our former destination, and she didn’t disappoint. She and three of her sisters escorted us up and out of the subway station. The remaining sisters of both classes stayed behind to accompany their hostages to the Palladium. What
did
surprise me was the fact our escorts didn’t lead us to another Otherrealm portal. Instead, we wound a circuitous route through Southie, around the South End, then into Chinatown. At that point, our ultimate destination became clear: Not the Otherrealms at all but Arcane Central here in Boston, the predominantly arcane neighborhood known as the Underbelly. I opened my mouth once or twice but shut it when Mom shot me an expression much like the ones I’d given Cori. She really
had
taught me most of what I knew about being a Fury—attitude wise, anyway.