The Council of Shadows Read online

  “After I killed her,” Ellen said with satisfaction.

  Quite a girl, Harvey thought admiringly.

  Then she went on: “Farmer here will take you to the next stage, Peter.”

  They hugged, and Ellen kissed him gently on the brow. “You get to work, you hear me?”

  “I will. Professor Duquesne is a first-class mind. Though I’ll need some test subjects . . . and there will be a lot of equipment.. . .”

  “We will see that you have all you need,” Adrian said. “And you have plenty of motivation, no?”

  “Fuck, yes,” Boase said, his face grim for a moment. Then, a little shyly, he extended a hand. “And thank you too.”

  “You are welcome, for what it’s worth.”

  “But shouldn’t Duquesne have a spunky young daughter, o squarejawed scientist?” Ellen teased. “A redheaded tomboy who can hand you a soldering iron while you cook up the world saver in the hidden underground lab?”

  Everyone laughed, except Farmer, who jerked his head brusquely at the vehicle. When the van pulled away, Harvey looked inquiringly at the pair.

  “So, you needed to talk to me?”

  Adrian nodded. “It was Ellen’s idea.”

  And for a masochist bottom, she surely does rule that boy with a rod of iron, Harvey thought.

  “You noticed how disorganized that attack was?” Adrian said.

  Harvey nodded. “Shadowspawn usually are. They don’t need to be better. Probably just came here on impulse.”

  “Or they could have detected Peter’s e-mail. He was using one of the pseudonyms he operated under while he was at Rancho Sangre and doing work for Adrienne.”

  Harvey snorted. “You see either of those two as hackers? Exceptin’ in the literal sense of the word.”

  Adrian shrugged. “Not directly, no. . .”

  Ellen cut in: “Theresa, Adrienne’s household manager, was very good with systems. She could be working for Adrienne’s parents now? She was born a renfield there before Jules was, ah . . . killed. Before his body was killed, that is.”

  “That is possible,” Adrian said. “They would be unlikely to kill her, then. She might have given them a heads-up. They would have been better organized, if my sister were still running that little faction of theirs. Dmitri and Dale Shadowsblade were both here. I bested Dmitri in the contest of Power, but if they had attacked together. . .”

  “We’d be toast,” Harvey acknowledged. “Without you, we’d have been toast anyway—or gorilla fodder.”

  “So Rancho Sangre must be disorganized too,” Ellen said firmly. She crossed her arms, took a deep breath, and went on: “And Adrian’s children are there.”

  Harvey grunted and leaned back against the Humvee. “So, you know?”

  She shot a glance at Adrian. “He—”

  “My darling, I wasn’t sure. I was Adrienne’s . . . captive for a while in Calcutta. Seven years ago. My mind was not my own for much of that time. And—” He sighed. “I feared you were right. Perhaps I did not inquire more because I did not want to know.”

  “They’re not in any danger,” Harvey pointed out, feeling a trickle of alarm. “Adrian’s parents will take care of them.”

  “Adrian’s parents will turn them into killers,” Ellen said.

  “Well, Adrian. . .”

  “. . . was rescued, Mr. Ledbetter. By force. Usually I’m not one for removing children by force, but in this case . . . their mother is dead, Adrian is their father, and leaving them there is the equivalent of having them raised by Nazis. Not just the risk to them, but the people they’ll hurt.”

  She called me by my last name. Uh-oh.

  “And so will Leon and Leila be rescued. Think of what an asset they could be to our side, too.”

  Ellen’s face was beautiful, but right now you could see the bone structure under it, and that was beyond all prettiness. Her blue eyes glinted.

  “Look—” he began.

  Behind her, Adrian smiled. It was almost a smirk, and he mouthed silently: Good luck.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Ol’ buddy, this is crazy.”

  Ellen crossed her arms and glared at Harvey. “No, it isn’t,” she snapped.

  “Harvey—” Adrian began.

  All three of them fell silent as the waitress brought their food. Harvey beamed at her.

  “Now that’s a taco,” he said, taking a happy bite. “My compliments to the chef, darlin’.”

  Unexpectedly, the heavyset woman smiled at him as she plopped down a basket of sopapillas and covered it with a cloth to keep them warm.

  “We don’t have no chef,” she said. “All we got here at Teresa’s is a cook.”

  Ellen’s nose twitched, and saliva spurted into her mouth; her stomach twisted with a need so intense it was almost nausea. She’d been too keyed up to realize just how hungry she was. Still was, despite the energy drinks and nut bars she’d devoured as they drove into town.

  What with waiting to be attacked by monsters, shooting monsters. . . well, shooting at monsters . . . donating blood and coupling like mad stoats, she thought. God, what a movie this would make! Rated R, of course.

  With an effort, she restrained herself from gobbling, the spiced barbacoa beef and onions tingling on her tongue. The puffed bread with honey tasted even better.

  “Mighty strange how sometimes the best tacos are in these little places you’d swear probably cooked up roof rabbit. I recall this time near Abilene—” Harvey began reminiscently.

  “Shut up with the funny, rustic good-ol’-boy thing, Harvey,” she said. “I’m a small-town girl myself and it doesn’t fool me. And I’m not going to forget those kids because I’m stuffing my face.”

  She took a bite of her taco and glared. Harvey shrugged; he was about the most imperturbable man she’d ever met. At least he couldn’t sense her emotions anymore, not with his limited talent and the protections Adrian had installed.

  At last she pushed the plate away and drank the last of her Diet Coke. Adrian looked at it and raised a brow, chuckling.

  “What?”

  “It just seems a little. . .”

  He indicated the plates, now mostly clear of their tacos, burritos, refried beans and much else.

  “I just prefer the taste of aspartame. And you’re not going to distract me either, Adrian. Tell me honestly—will there ever be a better time?”

  He sighed and rested his face in his hands for a moment, elbows on the table.

  “I am so tired,” he said softly. “No. There will not. But answer me honestly, chérie. Why do you care? Why are you ready to take risks for children who are not yours? Did you fall in love with them on brief acquaintance?”

  “No. I only saw them a couple of times, and . . .” She hesitated. “Frankly, I thought they were. . .”

  “Creepy, you said. Then why?”

  “Because they’re yours, and I love you. Tell me you haven’t been thinking about this since I first told you about them. You froze then and it’s been eating at you ever since. So I think this is something you need to do.”

  “Yes, I have been thinking about them.” Adrian sighed. “It . . . has been obsessing me. I thought I hid it better.”

  “Honey, we’re sorta linked. It isn’t all one-way, you know.”

  Softly he went on: “I try to suppress it because it isn’t really concern for them in any immediate sense. I think of them, but what the, the eye of my mind sees is myself, as a little boy. Myself and Adrienne, when we were like kittens playing together in the sun. Before we ate of the tree of knowledge and had to choose between good and evil.”

  Harvey touched Adrian on the shoulder. Ellen fought down a slight pang; they’d been together for a long time before she met Adrian at all. It was illogical, but. . .

  What was that old saying? The heart has its reasons that the mind knows not?

  “Son, you should let that go,” Harvey said, his voice quiet but compelling. “You can’t help those two kids you remember, even if one
of them was you. They’re both dead. They became you, you and your sister. You both made your choices.”

  Adrian looked up at the Texan. “Harvey, I made the choices I did because of you. You took me out. Adrienne stayed behind and became . . . what she is. It was a close thing for me even so, sometimes, Harvey. Being good is hard for us. It’s so easy for you humans—I’ve known a lot of bitterness, a lot of envy over that.”

  Ellen laid her hand on her husband’s shoulder, beside that of his friend.

  “You did manage it, darling.”

  “But . . . I had the opportunity. Adrienne never did; and the little girl I loved is dead, murdered by the thing she became. How can I leave the flesh of my flesh there, to lose them the same way?”

  Ellen nodded. “You can’t. And no child should be treated the way they will be.”

  Adrian sighed and looked down at his elegant, slender hands. “My parents will . . . love them, in their way.”

  “That makes things worse, not better. You can turn against an outright abuser. Someone who really loves you can lead you into the pit.”

  “And the children are Shadowspawn, Ellen. Purebreds, even more than I. Perhaps the purest-bred in twenty thousand years. Very powerful, hideously dangerous.”

  Ellen snorted. “Now, that’s, well, racist. You aren’t a bad man, Adrian. And you’re extremely powerful and dangerous. There’s no reason they have to be bad, no matter what they can do. You’re vacillating. It isn’t like you.” More quietly. “They look so much like you. The boy was like seeing you at that age.”

  “Oh, Jesus,” Harvey said wearily. “Do you two do this we-are-thedyadic-unit thing all the time?”

  Ellen flushed; she’d become very used to being alone with Adrian. Adrian’s face firmed and lost the slightly wistful expression it had worn for an instant.

  “And there is a nexus here, Harvey.”

  The Texan’s face altered, going very still. A probability nexus was nothing to take lightly. The fact that they could seldom be pinned down in detail simply made that more essential. Nobody who had enough of the Power to Wreak at all doubted the existence of the precognitive ability, and Adrian had an awesome degree of it.

  “What sort?” he said cautiously.

  “I am not altogether sure, but a powerful one. Extremely powerful, and growing very rapidly; I can feel it looming out of the spray of futures, cutting across one path after another. And I am increasingly convinced that not doing this is black-pathed. When I try to invoke common sense and convince myself not to do it, cold winds blow. Both for me personally and for the world. It has been troubling me for some time; I think that was why I avoided thinking of the children as much as I could. Since Ellen mentioned them it has been forcing its way into my conscious mind.”

  One of the grizzled eyebrows went up. “You sure your feelings aren’t pushin’ you there?”

  Adrian spread his hands. “No, I’m not sure of that at all,” he said frankly. “But one can never be sure. Even with an overt Seeing, rather than just an intimation like this. It is enough to convince me, my old. And my subconscious has a lively sense of self-preservation. If the Power is prompting me to do this thing, despite the obvious risks, then there is some hideous danger involved in not doing it. We cannot know what the danger is, but it is there. And if we ignore the warning, we will find out the danger far too late.”

  “Or someone stronger than you is tweakin’ it.”

  Harvey held up a hand as Ellen began to speak; she felt a little relief. Even now, parts of her brain screamed, This is crazy! at logic like that.

  And that’s after I’ve seen people turn into . . . well, not bats, but things with wings, and walk through walls.

  “All right,” Harvey said slowly. “I’ve got a powerful respect for your precog, Adrian. Plus we do have some downtime in a few months, and it is the best opportunity. . . which don’t make it good. It’s an unjustified risk before the Tbilisi thing. Though I can probably even sell it to Sheila Polson.”

  Adrian raised a brow and said to Ellen: “Did I mention her? The Brotherhood’s executive for western North America?”

  “Yes. Bigoted bitch was the term you used.”

  Adrian grinned. “I didn’t think she altogether liked me,” he said. “And I thought that she disliked me for my genes, which I can’t help, rather than my actions, which I usually can. Doubly ironic because she has considerably more of the Shadowspawn inheritance than Harvey here. Projected self-loathing is one of the occupational hazards of the Brotherhood. Also a reason I, ah, resigned.”

  Harvey snorted. “She didn’t like you, until you pulled off the Rancho Sangre thing. Hajime and the late unlamented Adrienne, that’s quite a bit of counting coup. You got real chops with her now, son.”

  “We pulled that off.”

  “Yeah, it ain’t hurt my chops with the organization either. There’s not a person in the Brotherhood didn’t cheer, which makes up for bein’ a loose cannon, sorta. A little.”

  Ellen murmured. “Harvey Ledbetter, organization man?”

  “Not so much. More like the Brotherhood’s indispensible skunk,” Harvey said. “But I think I can sell it to her. Say rescuin’ a pureblood and raisin’ him right worked with you, and there’s no reason we couldn’t do it again; and we should strike fast, because the younger we get ’em, the more likely it is to work out right. It’d make a powerful difference if we had more major mojo like yours on our side. I can bring her’round . . . if I work at it for a while.”

  “Ah,” Adrian said. “That is good!”

  “And I’ll go on the op, too, of course.”

  “No,” Adrian said, shaking his head. “You were definitely made as the shooter during the fracas. Not the first time you’d killed them. . . remember how Hajime tried to make me give you up, by name? It takes a great hatred for them to notice a specific human that way.”

  Harvey grinned with happy ferocity. “I don’t mind havin’ that sort of rep. Still, I know the ground. . . .”

  “And it knows you, by now: Wreakings aimed at you specifically. I am fairly sure that the Tōkairin would do so, and my parents. Farmer and Guha would do; they were covered by my penumbra and got out before anyone paid attention to them. Or any reliable Brotherhood muscle. And technical and logistic support, of course.”

  “That I think I can do, ol’ buddy. Properly motivated, that is.”

  Ellen felt her skin prickle at something in Harvey’s smile. “You want something for it,” she said.

  I didn’t watch all that bargaining at the gallery for nothing.

  Harvey leaned back and put a toothpick between his lips. “Tryin’ to quit,” he said in explanation. “And yeah, I do want something.”

  “What?” Adrian said.

  “A promise. I’m goin’ along with this against my better judgment. I want a blank check for some operation sometime you think stinks. Solemn oath, Adrian, ol’ buddy. I call in the favor and you go along with it, no questions, beginning to end.”

  Adrian hesitated, his eyes narrowing. Ellen remembered something he’d said once: that Harvey could be drastic sometimes.

  You know, these guys really are terrorists in a way. I mean, they don’t go out of their way to kill bystanders, but they don’t seem to give much of a damn about it either, except for Adrian . . . and Adrian can play really rough too, I think. And they’ll step on renfields like bugs. Which is fine in one way, but on the other hand that includes guys like Jose and his family, whom I mostly liked. Fighting the Bad Guys is more complicated than I thought, even when they are really-for-true evil.

  “You really mean it,” Adrian said.

  “Oh, yeah,” Harvey said, relaxed, one arm hooked around the rear of the chair. “That’s my price. Take it or leave it.”

  Adrian glanced at Ellen. “I can deny you nothing,” he said, and the words were for her. “My oath, old friend. And I am glad of it, too. Once more Ellen is making me do something I very much wanted to do. . . but I doubted my own wanti
ng.”

  “Okay, first installment on the payback,” Harvey said promptly. He pulled out his phone and selected a number. “I can recognize when my talent’s prompting me, even if it isn’t in your league. Just tell her Operation Defarge is a go. Nothin’ else.”

  Adrian shot him a look, shrugged, and took the phone.

  “You have reached Polson Consulting. All of our operatives are serving other customers at the moment; please leave a name and number and we’ll get back to you.”

  “Mowgli here. Lefarge is a go,” Adrian said, and snapped off the phone.

  “Mowgli?” Ellen said; it had been a long time since she read Kipling.

  “My code name,” Adrian said. “One of them.”

  “Oh . . . the human boy raised by wolves . . . Bit of an ironic inversion. . .”

  He sighed. “We should go back to Santa Fe for a stop. I need to pick up a few things there. Then we’ll head to California. It’s some time before the Council meets, and . . . I was hoping our physicists would come up with something that might help us there.”

  “So was I,” Harvey said. “When you’re ready, I’ll come a-runnin’ to earn the rest of my favor. Meantime, business calls and it’s a far, far better thing.”

  Ellen turned and looked at Adrian as the Texan nodded and left.

  “What was that?”

  Adrian frowned slightly. “Harvey isn’t any great adept, but he has mental shields like machined tungsten carbide,” he said. “There was just a flicker.. . .”

  Ellen snorted. “You get too dependent on reading people’s minds, darling. My take is that he was improvising, but he has something in mind you’re not going to like. At all. Whatever this Defarge thing is, it’s going to be a bone in your throat.”

  Adrian shrugged; then went abstracted for a moment. “The world-lines are tangled, too many Wreaking along them . . . but you are right. Let’s get on the road, then. Perhaps we can rest a little in Santa Fe.”

  “Maybe I can see Giselle? She’ll have worried herself sick, and I didn’t dare write.”

  “Perhaps.”