Phoenix Broken (11 page)

So it had went.

A wonderful morning—guilt with a side of
fuck you.

He knew that was unfair, that Miss Conneely was a good teacher, trying to do right by his son in her own way. It didn't mean he had to like her—or what she had to say.

A text from Dustin had been blinking when he'd left the school.

'Dude. Call me. And I don't mean maybe.'

After he heard what the IT guy had to say, Scott was ready to crack some heads open. Confirming that someone you trusted was running an end game around you…that you were maybe even being lied to…

Scott was ready to fucking
blow.

He wrenched open the door to Jules’ office. Scott noted the black-out curtains pulled tight. He was sure that the exterior shutters that had been installed two years ago had been locked down tight as well. Jules was at his desk. And the big man didn't look one bit surprised to see Scott.

The fucker.

"Dustin is my friend, too, Scott. He called me as soon as he got done talking to you. He seemed to think I could use the head's up."

It was thanks to Dustin that Scott knew Jules had a phone conference with Senator Raines earlier this morning, and that he'd slipped into one of the business suites at Phoenix before dawn to be ready to make that call. The IT guy had told him right after he'd explained that the last one to look at Guido Calimente's file had been Jules himself. About 72 hours ago.

"If you want to kick my ass, have at it, buddy. Not a good time of day for me." He forced a tired smile that looked brittle around the edges.

“What the fuck is going on and why are you trying to cut me out of it?”

Jules grimaced. “Scott….

"What happened to friends… your little 'we're family' speech, Jules? You son of a bitch!" His fist came down on the desk, knocking several pictures flat. There was a tinkle of breaking glass.

“It wasn’t his idea, it was mine.” Miles’ voice coming out of the speaker phone froze Scott in place. “And I am beginning to think he might've been right about that being a bad call.”

“You think?” Scott looked at Jules, who shrugged, but the guilt and tension on his face was clear. Whatever was going on, Jules was not happy about it either.

So—why let Miles’ dictate his actions? For a long time Jules had
loathed
Miles, as he had all vamps. The two were certainly friends now, and very good ones. Still as close as he was to both Jules and Kelsey, the Frenchman had no official position in Phoenix Inc.’s power structure, and from all accounts didn't want one.

Technically, Rousseau could be called a freelance consultant, nothing more. He'd lent resources to Phoenix more than once, and had borrowed some occasionally—like the young werewolf, Alcide.

Scott was also aware the vamp had been working some political magic for them in DC on this vote mess, but Miles’ own business dealings tended to keep him very busy in France. He didn't really meddle in his wife's company.

Though…he'd always had a marked interest in the Society, come to think of it. And Cross's involvement with them. Scott had always put that down to Cross making that attempt on Kelsey's life. Now he recalled that wasn't entirely accurate; Miles had shared intel on the Society during that whole mess,
before
the threat to Miles' wife had even occurred. Which meant the French vamp already had eyes on the Iron Hand Society? Why?

More questions Scott had asked himself in the last few days rang in his head, one after the other.

Why
had the vampire been on the grounds two nights ago? And without Kelsey? Why was he poking his aristocratic nose into Phoenix business? And putting pressure on Jules to do things the big man disagreed with? Things that cut Scott out of a loop that was more his than anyone else's?

“Just what the hell is going on here?”

There was a moment of silence, then a sigh came over the speaker.

“The demon whose file you pulled and saw Jules' name on is a part of a bigger problem that may involve Docie May. It's not just about Fannie's murder anymore, Scott."

“Goddamn it, Miles. That’s not going to cut it and you know it.” This from Jules." Scott's more invested than anyone.”

“Don’t
ever
assume you comprehend the extent of
my
investment when it comes to demons, Gentry,” Miles snapped.

Scott and Jules exchanged a look at the bite in the vampire's tone.

“It's not that I don't want Scott on board," Miles said, obviously trying to moderate his tone. "Just not at the cost of jeopardizing the mission.”

“It's not like this is my first goddamn rodeo, you son of a bitch!”

“Then you’re aware that the more people who know a secret—no matter how trustworthy those people are—the less likely it is to
remain
a secret.” Miles’ deliberately patronizing tone was not lost on Scott. They'd both been soldiers and officers, but the vampire had a few hundred years in the ranks on him.

It still pissed Scott off.

“No shit, but if this has to do with Cross…”

“We’re not 100% on that yet,” Jules spoke up. “But it seems likely given Docie May is involved. Miles, just
tell
him already. We’re on a scrambled line, but keep it sketchy, I'll fill in the details for him later.”

“Fine." The word was icy, but Miles took a breath and continued. "I got some intel a few years back that the Iron Hand Society intended to reach out to the Convenīre."

“How? Where? Why?” The questions spilled out, rapid fire.

“The first two I’m
not
answering and Jules
can’t
because he doesn’t know, Davidson, so don’t bother interrogating him after I hang up. The answer to the third is a bit unclear, but the potential for disaster here is huge. Demons aren't exactly joiners, you know that much, right?"

"Yes." In the shade uprisings that'd pockmarked the 90's and the first decade of the new millennia, demons had stayed well clear. They hadn't been a part of the conflicts in Korea and Russia. Which was why Scott knew so little about them. Of course, hardly anyone did.

Miles wasn't hardly anyone.

"Demons consider themselves the first race; which may be true enough. They're terribly arrogant, but they've a right to be. Demons are incredibly powerful, particularly when they stand as a group, which thankfully for the world they haven't done in human history. When I heard the Society was thinking of reaching out to them, I'll be honest, I thought it a bit of a laugh, but I kept an eye out as I monitor all demon activity. Call it a…hobby."

Scott's eyes flickered to Jules, who shrugged. They both knew the French vamp was lying, but neither was inclined to call him on it. "It's taken the Society almost three years to get to this point, but…I will tell you what I
think
is going on. I think Docie May is acting as a liaison between the Society and the Convenīre. They may be partnering up on something. Or entertaining the notion, at least."

"Something?"

"My money is on the vote. The Reasonable Executives Act."

Scott took a mental step back.

The vote that could remove Kelsey, Miles' wife, as the CEO of Phoenix Inc. That was intended to severely restrict all shade involvement in the higher echelons of business in America. The very vote Jules' meeting this morning had been about. "Seriously?"

"Yes." Miles' tone was grim. "We already know the Society had a hand in crafting the language of the bill. I think you're aware that Senator Raines is our eyes and ears on the US Senate Committee on Health, Education, Labor and Pensions. Well, he's been able to confirm some very shifty stuff is going on. Shifty even for Washington, Scott. This bill is the Society's baby at heart. If the Convenīre throws their weight behind it, with all their backroom power, it'll go through. To be honest, though, I am more worried about the long-term potential of a partnership between those two factions…and what their end game might be."

There was a moment of silence as all three men considered Miles' words.

The most powerful force in the shade world, with the craziest.

“I thought the Convenīre didn’t play nice with
anyone?
And would they really risk attaching themselves to such an outspoken fringe group? They're supposed to be smarter than that. They've never liked attracting attention.” Yet, Scott couldn't help but recall the feeling he'd gotten in Centaries the other night.

Having good instincts was such a bitch sometimes.

“I would tend to agree. It is highly probable that Cross—or far more likely, Preshea Abbey—is making overtures that will be rebuffed, and that nothing will come of this. The Convenīre are probably just toying with the Society for reasons of their own.

"Personally though, I like to assume the worst. It's kept me alive this long…in a matter of speaking," Miles gave a cough.

"And there's one thing I know," the vampire continued, "if the demons were to become
convinced
that they could strike a blow at humans that would have a real, brutal and significant effect... It would be tempting to some of them.
Irresistible.
They've waited millennia for just such an opportunity. This vote could do a lot of damage to shade/human relations.”

Scott was thinking hard, taking it all in. He knew Abbey was the real brains behind the Society. Not that Cross wasn’t smart, he just wasn’t invested.

The vampire was a reluctant figurehead from all the intel they had gathered. It was Jules' opinion that Cross had only given into the Society’s request to be their poster boy for the protection they could offer him—and the access to their assets.

Why then was
Docie Ma
y involved in this overture? She was, by all accounts, Cross’s most loyal creature. If he was sending her in, the bastard was fucking invested alright. But Docie May hardly seemed like the sort you’d send on a mission of
diplomacy
.

Especially to a group as volatile as the goddamn Convenīre.

He shook his head. “This shit makes no kind of sense.”

“I'm aware of that. We need better intel to put the pieces together. The vote will hit the Senate after the Christmas recess, Scott. I'm played out on that board. I found an ace in the hole, though. Desdemona."

Scott straightened. Miles, on speaker phone, was oblivious to the way his expression tensed. Jules wasn't. Scott ignored his friend's curious gaze. "Explain."

"She knows Calimente very well. Guido Calimente, the demon whose file you pulled. What wild hair made you look him up? Dustin played dumb when Jules asked for details. Getting information out of that man he doesn't want to give is like trying to hold onto soap in the shower; the tighter you squeeze the more he shoots right out of your hand."

A tic started in Scott's jaw, "I met him."

Jules leaned forward, frowning in sudden suspicion, "You
met
him? That wasn't in your goddamn report."

"Well maybe, kemosabe," Scott looked him in the eye, "that's because I hadn’t met him when I wrote that report."

"So when
did
you meet him
?"
There was a tic in Jules' jaw now.

"Last night. At Centaries."

"You disobeyed a direct order?" His tone was incredulous, and pissed. Jules pushed away from his desk, glaring across it.

"Thought you said I wasn't in the ranks anymore? What's this 'order' shit?"

"Jesus! Davidson, you know better than any man or woman here the importance of chain of command, of…"

"Transparency? Between friends?"

"I can't tell you everything.
I fucking can't.
I'm your boss, damnit! If you were thinking straight you'd never pull this shit.
Jesus,
Scott
.
Miles is right, you really could jeopardize everything.
"

Jules got to his feet, his big hands on his desk, feet spread wide as if bracing for a blow. "Tell me straight, right now.
Can I trust you?
Can I fucking trust you to follow orders?"

Scott actually had to think about it. Maybe if Jules were anyone else, he would've told him to fuck off.
But this was Jules.
Jules had known Fannie longer than Scott; he'd loved her, bled for her and had nearly killed himself trying to save her.

With a deep breath, he met the vampire's dark eyes. "Yes."

Jules's grip on the desk tightened. "If you do something like that again," he said, "I
will
yank you off anything to do with Cross and the Society. And fire your ass to boot. Got it?"

"I got it. But keeping me away from Centaries may've just gotten a lot harder for you to enforce. On my way out of the club last night, I ran into Docie May. She slipped this into my pocket." Scott handed over the note he'd found less than an hour ago.

Jules flattened the crumpled piece of paper on the desk. His mouth fell open as he scanned it.