CHAPTER TEN

Dawn broke on a scene of chaos at Dante’s villa. Polizia swarmed the halls and grounds, searching for evidence that he was harboring the Black Witch. Keeping the reins on his temper was difficult as Dante watched the smug bastards ransack his home and disrespect his guardsmen. The fiery Matteo nearly started a fight when a group of them got in his face demanding access to Dante’s study, but luckily his brother kept him restrained. Always the more stolid of the two, Angelo managed to diffuse the situation and keep the polizia from entering Dante’s private office, as well.

Already rattled by Shade’s failure to return the night before, he had greeted the polizia at his door with seething anger. Drawing upon the deep arrogance of a prince of a First Family, he’d forced them to wait over an hour in the pre-dawn chill, feigning disbelief and outrage, and swearing he’d bring them all up on charges when the council of the First Families met in the winter. It was no idle threat. The polizia had little true power in Malavita. The sergeant in charge seemed ready to back down – until a Brotherhood priest appeared bearing a new warrant for the Black Witch which now included the charge of murder of two Ruby Pontifex. Clad in long crimson robes with a pair of crossed blades embroidered on his left breast, the Blademaster Jacobis was not so easily turned away.

He’d directed the search in near silence, his dark eyes ever watchful, his red hair tied back in a tight queue, making his features sharply vulpine. Dante had crossed his path only once and had done all he could to avoid him since. There was something about the priest which set his hair on end. Those watchful eyes of his seemed to see right into his soul. Giving him free rein of his home, hoping and praying Shade wouldn’t show up in the midst of the search, he’d retreated to his study to wait out the invaders.

Finally, the search having produced only a pile of fine women’s clothing and a vast collection of cosmetics, the polizia had left. But there had been a promise of more to come in Brother Jacobis’ cold eyes. With the morning sun flooding his private study, setting fire to dust motes, and limning the dark wood of his desk, Dante sat tipped back in his chair, his feet up and grinding the warrant beneath his boot heels. Two Ruby Pontifex. He scoffed. What rubbish. Half the city would be in ruins if Shade fought two Ruby Pontifex.

Shockingly, the polizia had done little damage to the villa, though poor Lizette had been beside herself when the thugs had confiscated everything from the most elaborate gown to the last drop of perfume. Shade’s alter ego, the Lady Nox, would have nothing to wear to the next ball. Dante had sent the lady’s maid to her chamber with an order for a sleeping draught. He was tempted to take one himself to blunt his nerves, but he’d chosen brandy instead. Fear and rage rolled through him in unending waves, and the liquor was doing little to calm him.

When Shade returned, he would wring her neck for putting him through this ordeal. If he lost her now, he would never get his Veil. If he lost her now…

His heart contracted and he squeezed his eyes shut. Where was she?

“My lord!”

His eyes snapped open. Angelo had thrust his head into the study. He and Matteo were standing watch outside his door, unwilling to leave him unguarded even though the polizia had withdrawn. Grim excitement lit the fair-haired man’s face. His heart leapt into a gallop and Dante’s feet dropped to the floor. “What is it?” he snapped, though he already knew the answer.

“She’s here, my prince. The witch has returned.”

“Where is Korin?!” Shade’s shout echoed in the foyer. She’d burst through the main doors, sending the footmen backpedaling and a maid into squeaking flight as Dante descended the grand staircase to greet her. “I’m going to kill that bastard!”

Taken aback by her appearance – she was covered in filth, her hair a wild tangle around a face twisted with fury – Dante paused. He’d spent a sleepless night waiting for her return, worried for her safety more than he dared admit. The polizia had raided his very home in search of her mere hours before. Because of whatever had happened in the city. Whatever had gone wrong. Because of her.

His relief at seeing her safe, his worry and fear, all of it evaporated like dew before the hot sun. Anger to match hers filled him.

“What in the lowest hells happened?” he demanded. “Do you have any idea what I’ve just endured? The polizia invaded my villa. The Brotherhood sent a Blademaster to my very door! All searching for you. And now you return at last only to scream death threats against my most loyal retainer? What madness has possessed you?”

Shade threw her soiled cloak back from her shoulders, holding herself like a queen, unaffected by his anger. Behind her stood his Imperial emissary, looking slightly chagrinned. Dante’s lips thinned. What part had he played in all of this? Dante knew Raiden didn’t hesitate to throw himself into a fight. He was beginning to think the Emperor had played a joke on him, sending such a volatile diplomat.

Crossing to the staircase, Shade grasped a carved finial as if she intended to tear it loose and stabbed a finger at him. “I am going to kill your pet Sicani. He sent me to bargain with a den of thieves. They tossed me into the sewer because I wouldn’t accept their conditions!”

Dante blinked, aghast. That explained her appearance. “What conditions? Tell me what happened.” He started down to her one slow step at a time, horror overriding his anger. “Please, tell me you acquired the stones we need? All is lost if you didn’t!”

“Of course I have the stones. They were mine to begin with.” Her face grew flushed. “They stole those stones. Their thievery killed my father. Korin knew before he sent me; he knew what their actions cost me, yet he sent me anyway. For that, I will make him pay.”

“You will do no such thing,” he said sharply. Two more steps took him to a riser just above her. She looked up at him defiantly, her jaw set in a stubborn line. Now that he knew she had the stones, he struggled to let go of his anger. She’d done what was asked, even if she’d kicked a hornet’s nest in the process. He gripped the banister as hard as he could, attempting calm. “What conditions did they demand in exchange for the cornerstones? What did they ask that was so difficult?”

“They wanted me to raise my Veil in a place of their choosing and I refused.” She jerked her chin disparagingly. “Tell your loyal retainer I won’t be raising my Veil at the Nexus. I’ll raise it where I planned to from the start. Beyond the Razor Ridge mountains, in Kindred lands.”

Dante blinked. The Nexus? He knew the place. To his family, to all descendants of a First Family, it was a sacred place. It had once been the golden heart of Malavita before the war and the blight and was still a confluence of power and ancient magic. But it lay close to the Glass Fields, subject to the warp and weft of that unstable stretch of broken horror. Not even the Brotherhood had dared raise a Veil at the Nexus and nothing was sacred to them any longer.

Yet, he could understand why Korin and the Coterie would have chosen it. A strong Veil at the Nexus would have far-reaching consequences. It would touch all the qaraz in the land, and its strength might feed the ancient pathways, and thus strengthen every Veil. It might restore the beating heart of Malavita and stabilize the Wastes themselves.

Dante stepped off the final stair, looming over her. “Where we raise our Veil is not your choice alone,” he said. “The Nexus has advantages you should consider, advantages I’m sure drew Korin and the Coterie to their choice. Korin is wise, and I trust him more than anyone. Don’t let your anger cloud your mind to what’s best for all of us.”

“My mind is clear,” she countered in a hiss. “It will be my power which raises the Veil. My knowledge! Without me, you have nothing. So.” She jabbed a thumb to her filthy chest. “I decide where to raise it. I decide where it is safest to anchor my Quattro Canto!”

“And you think that place is in lands you’ve never even seen?” he scoffed.

She grew still. “I have seen them,” she said softly, almost reverently. Her expression grew distant, picturing something in her mind’s eye. “I have seen the valley which my Veil will shelter. It calls to me in my dreams.” The vague expression left her face and she fixed him with a sharp look. Anger and determination burned bright in eyes as green as grass. “I won’t let Korin or the Coterie force me from my path. This is my vision. My destiny!”

He stared at her in disbelief. Her vision? Her destiny? He’d never heard her sound so much like a zealot. He shook his head. Was her hatred for the Coterie driving her to this extreme? Or was it something else?

Aware he was treading on dangerous ground he threw her past in her face like a bucket of cold water. “Is this about Satine?” He said it quietly, calmly. It wouldn’t do to accuse her like a raving madman. He didn’t want her to think he was speaking out of jealousy. “Do you so desperately want to chase after the lover who spurned you, you would ruin all our plans?”

She blanched at his words. She’d pretended her dalliance with her tattoo master had been nothing, but he’d caught the sorrow in her eyes when she’d related the tale. He ignored her hurt, though he felt a twist in his belly at the look on her face.

“This has nothing to do with Satine,” she said, brushing aside his accusation with a wave of her hand. But he could see the color high on her cheeks. It contrasted sharply with the sudden paleness of her skin. “But I’m glad you have expressed your true feelings. Imagine, all this time, I thought you had faith in me.”

She backed away from him, her head twisting toward the hallway which led further into the villa. “It has been a long night, my lord,” she said stiffly, far more formal than she’d ever been with him. With a deep regret, he felt a wall rise between them. “Do I have your permission to take my leave?”

“You don’t need my permission–”

“Very well, my lord. I’ll be in my rooms if you have need of me.” She paused, half-turned toward the hallway and escape, and glanced back toward the main entrance. “Oh, and Captain Mad has some news for you.”

Dante faced the Imperial who stood like a sentry beside the wide-open doors. He’d been so still and silent, Dante had forgotten he was even there. But those sharp black eyes had missed nothing of his exchange with Shade. They scrutinized him yet revealed nothing of Raiden’s thoughts. “What news?” he asked.

Shade answered for him. “He has agreed to sign your royal charter.”

* * *

“Her foolish stubbornness will be the ruin of us all.”

Korin reached for the bottle of brandy on Dante’s desk, his eyes bright with anger and deep frown lines around his mouth. The bottle was half empty. Dante had been steadily working through it when his mentor had barged into his study. The news that Shade had refused the Coterie’s conditions yet taken the stones had driven Korin into a rage. He’d paced the room, wearing a path in the fine woven rug and excoriating Shade relentlessly until Dante had begged him to stop. The brandy had removed the last remnants of his own anger and he was tired. Beyond tired. His alliance with the Black Witch had been exposed far sooner than he’d hoped, and his own emissary had managed to kill two Ruby Pontifex. It was only a matter of time before the Brotherhood struck. The polizia raid had been a gambit. He’d already instructed his people to be ready and doubled the guards patrolling the grounds.

Yet, I sit here getting drunk like a fool.

He’d wanted to warn Shade, as well, but feared she might slam the door in his face if he tried. He winced and ran a hand over his beard. He never should have brought up her old lover – she’d told him about Satine only after they’d shared one too many bottles of wine. She’d confided in him, fighting tears, trying to laugh it off as a youthful transgression, but the incident had obviously wounded her deeply. And he’d thrown it in her face. The look of betrayal in her eyes haunted him.

She brought home our cornerstones and managed to get the charter signed all in the same day.

The Imperial royal charter lay spread out on his desk, the ink barely dry and the wax seal still warm. He perused it again, the terms and conditions. The Empire had been generous, granting them autonomy in their governance. As long as they delivered on the promised gemstones. A hefty lavishment, true, but one he felt confident in fulfilling. Everything was falling into place.

Except my witch hates me.

“She is as stubborn a woman as I’ve ever met,” Korin continued angrily, pouring himself a drink without so much as a by your leave. “What does it matter where we acquired the cornerstones? It’s not as if Celeste and the others knew what would happen when their agent took the stones. Of course, there were risks. We are all prepared to die for our cause, why should her father be any different?”

“I doubt Shade sees it that way…”

He made a rude noise. “She sees what she wants to see. Fool girl.” He took a swig from his glass, and his lips pinched as he swallowed. “Did she really say she had a vision about where to raise the Veil?”

Dante nodded. It had been a strange revelation. Shade wasn’t the most spiritual of women. Visions and destiny seemed out of character for such a pragmatic soul. But, if she said she was being led by a vision, he had to believe her. He looked at Korin, frowning. “Why does it matter where she wants to raise the Veil? If she can find a way through the mountains, such a secure location might be to our benefit. Besides, the Nexus is sacrosanct. Did you ever consider you and the Coterie are wrong in your insistence she raise it there?”

Korin’s brow furrowed and his eyes took on a brooding look. Rhythmically, he tapped his fingers against his cut-crystal glass. “I don’t like this talk of visions,” he murmured, as if he hadn’t heard a word of what Dante said. “Why is she so driven to oppose us? One must ask who, or what, sent her this vision.”

His ominous statement sent a shiver up Dante’s spine. “And who do you suspect might have sent it?”

Korin snapped out of his introspection, pinning Dante with his bright eyes. “I have warned you how the Unseen can influence pliable souls. They could be using your witch against us.”

“You think Shade is pliable?” Dante laughed humorlessly. “I doubt even immortal demons could force Shade to do anything she didn’t want to do. And you called her a fool!”

His face flushed. The suspicion didn’t entirely leave his gaze, but he waved a hand, dismissing his concern. “You’re most likely right, my son. Nevertheless, she must raise her Veil at the Nexus if we hope to stabilize the Wastes and strengthen all the Veils. You must persuade her to do as we wish. Use your influence and push her toward the proper path.”

“Shade walks her own path,” Dante said. “And why do you believe I could persuade her to do anything? Right now, after what I said to her, I’d be surprised if she ever speaks to me again, let alone listens to my suggestions.”

Korin tilted his head, a knowing look on his face. “Come, my boy, don’t be dense. I’ve seen the way she looks at you, the way she flirts and teases. If anyone can persuade her, it’s you.”

Shock sobered him instantly. Dante blinked, staring at Korin as if he’d never seen him before. “It’s an act,” he insisted. “She plays the coquette to allay suspicions. There’s nothing more to it.” He rolled up the royal charter, checking first to make sure the ink had dried, and kept his face carefully blank. “Besides, I told you no one can persuade her to do anything she doesn’t want to do. Not demons, not you, and certainly not me. And right now, Shade wants to go to Kindred lands. I have no choice but to help her. Without her, there is no Veil.”

“Hmm.” Korin settled his glass on the darkened wood of Dante’s desk, but made no move to refill it. “I may have misread the situation.” His expression grew stern as he eyed Dante. “It is Shade who is the persuasive one, apparently, if she’s convinced you to let her go on this fool’s errand.”

“She did not persuade me of anything–”

“I had no idea your judgment had become clouded by your feelings. It is a mistake to care for her too deeply, Dante. I fear you will regret it.”

“My regrets are my own, old man.” Dante looked away from his sharp gaze. Korin was wrong; his feelings toward Shade were nothing more than a natural regard for an ally. It didn’t quite explain the heat rising into his cheeks, however. He shoved his chair back from his desk with a squeal of wood and stood abruptly. “And regarding Shade, my judgment is no more clouded than yours. Your animosity toward her has been clear from the beginning. You and the Coterie can’t stand the fact that she won’t be your willing pawn.”

“You know nothing of our cause, Dante, of the importance of our work–”

“And I don’t care to,” he snapped. “I know my best chance for a new Veil lies with Shade, and I will do whatever she asks of me. I’ll go to the deep Wastes and help her find the Kindred myself if I have to!”

“No,” Korin said quickly, lifting a hand toward him. His face had gone pale, his eyes suddenly sunken. “No,” he repeated, slowly lowering his hand, his fingers tightening into a fist. He thumped it on Dante’s desk, his shoulders hunching as if in defeat. “It’s far too dangerous for you to traipse off into the Wastes. You are the last Safire. I won’t lose you as I lost your sister and–” his voice grew rough, “–And the child.”

“I appreciate your concern, Korin, but I carry sapphire and I’m no unblooded boy.” He softened his tone, aware his old mentor was merely concerned for his safety. Korin’s fear for him had only intensified after Mercedes’ murder. His sister had been Korin’s favorite, and the one strongest in Sicani blood. Though years had passed, the pain her death had caused hadn’t. “I won’t put myself at risk unnecessarily, but to raise our Veil, I am forced to take risks. Can’t you see that?”

“Of course I can, but this is an unnecessary risk. You do not have to go to the Wastes with her. She can go alone.”

“Then you do support her quest to reach the Kindred?”

“No,” he said. “But it’s our only choice, thanks to Shade. You don’t need to help her find the Kindred; I already know the way.” A haunted look entered his bright eyes, a swirl of shadows. “I would know my own way home, wouldn’t I?”