His face was handsome in that traditional way of good breeding and money: square jaw, patrician nose, good cheekbones; all the features a child could inherit from generations of very rich men marrying very beautiful women. Sometimes the offspring of those families looked softened by the luxury they were born into. There was nothing soft about Benedict. His eyes were sharp and cold, two chunks of ice radiating intelligence and menace.

A trace of magic brushed against me, the hint of a glacial mind. My instincts screamed in alarm. I let it wash over me. I had become so good at suppressing my magic, I looked inert to others. The magic drenched me and withdrew. A Prime. Some sort of mental branch. Very strong.

If this was a private equity firm, I would eat my coat.

“Authorization granted,” he said, and hung up. His voice matched him, smooth and resonant, with a practiced quality to it, as if he’d spent some time with a vocal coach. “I see you found me, Ms. Baylor.”

I had no idea what he was, but he had no idea what I was either. If I let him think he rattled me, I might not get out of this alive.

“It was touch and go for a while,” I said. “I almost made camp in the Ottoman room but decided to press on.”

Benedict smiled. The small hairs on the back of my neck rose.

“Why are you here, Ms. Baylor?”

“I’ve been retained by House Etterson. It’s my understanding Sigourney Etterson had an investment account with your firm. Her records indicate she liquidated it. I’m attempting to locate those funds.”

“An admirable pursuit.”

“My client is in severe emotional distress after the death of her mother and sister. Her family home is gone, and she’s trying to pick up the pieces. She needs every dime of her inheritance to rebuild her House. We’re unable to account for the two million dollars. We would appreciate any assistance you could provide us.”

Benedict pondered me.

The next step would be to threaten him with a lawsuit if his firm failed to cough up the information. I didn’t want to push that far, not yet. I was alone in the office of an unknown Prime, asking uncomfortable questions and skating on thin ice.

Silence stretched.

Benedict turned his monitor sideways, so I could see it. On the screen Celia leaned forward and smiled at me.

“You come into my house, Ms. Baylor, and use magic on my staff. You can see how it presents me with a dilemma.”

I waited. Silence stretched.

“I find it interesting that you feel absolutely no pressure to fill the lull in the conversation,” he said.

“What makes you think I used magic? Perhaps Celia simply felt some compassion for the two young people who are now orphaned.”

Benedict smiled at me, a quick, precise baring of perfect teeth. “You’re right. I could blame Celia for her sudden attack of kindness. Unfortunately, Celia doesn’t understand the meaning of the word. She approximates human emotions the same way a chameleon mimics his environment to survive. I’ll be blunt: you intrigue me. You don’t taste like a psionic; they give off a mental stench they can’t mask. I don’t detect the sharpness of a telepath or the particular flavor of a dominator. You’re definitely not an empath. I tend to disturb them beyond their level of comfort. You almost taste like nothing, yet there is this slight hint of spice. A beguiling aftertaste.”

And he went right into creepy. “I think you give yourself too little credit, Mr. De Lacy. Empaths aren’t the only people you disturb beyond their comfort level.”

Benedict chuckled, got up, and strolled over to the window, where a blue crystal elephant stood on a small table next to a collection of matching heavy tumblers. The beast wore a delicate harness of gold that looked spun rather than forged and carried a decanter on its back, half full of what looked like whiskey. Baccarat crystal, antique, midnight shade of blue . . . a hundred thousand, maybe more.

He poured two fingers of amber liquor into a tumbler. “Whiskey?”

“Nine-thirty in the morning is a bit early for me.”

Benedict raised his glass to his lips. “I’ve been up for twenty-two hours. You and this whiskey are a pleasant diversion at the end of a very long day.”

The way he said it set my teeth on edge. Every woman had an instinct that warned her when things were about to spin out of control, and that instinct took in the way he looked at me and started screaming. I had to get out of this office.

I reached deep down and pulled Victoria Tremaine’s granddaughter out. Surprisingly, it was easier than I remembered.

“Since we agreed on being blunt, I hope you don’t mind if I indulge.”

“Please.” He invited me with a sweep of his hand.

“I came here with a simple request for information, and instead I’ve been kept waiting, given the runaround, and now we’re here in your multimillion-dollar man cave, while you are going out of your way to be gauche and vaguely threatening. Why, I can’t imagine.”

He laughed.

Right. I rose. “Mr. De Lacy, thank you for this incredibly frustrating and fruitless visit. Your time is valuable but so is mine. I’m done. I’ll see you in court.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you leave, Ms. Baylor.” He stared at me. A shockwave of alarm punched through my spine. “I simply must know what you are. Fortunately for me, there is an easy way to find out.”

Power splayed out of him, piercing my senses. I saw it through the prism of my magic, a dark, churning cloud, erupting from him like a nest of dark serpents. It hung around him, streaked with flashes of purple and red. Phantom mouths snapped the air with ghostly fangs, melting and re-forming, each cluster of darkness a living, malevolent thing wanting to bite and tear with those awful teeth.

Fear slammed into me. Every fiber of my being wanted to flee.

Benedict smiled at me from within that seething cloud. The mouths snapped, reaching for me.

The elephant decanter next to Benedict exploded. Glittering shards of blue crystal rained down on the rug and the table. Behind it, a hole gaped in the window panel. A sniper shot, most likely from the top of the high-rise apartment under construction across the street.

The serpent nest folded in on itself, sucked back into Benedict. He chuckled. “You have interesting friends, Ms. Baylor.”

I had no idea who’d shot the decanter. Right now it didn’t matter. I had to get the hell out of here, before De Lacy decided it wasn’t funny anymore. The sniper had saved my life.

“Perhaps you simply have incompetent enemies. My friends wouldn’t have missed. Good day, Mr. De Lacy. I’ll show myself out. Please have one of your minions meet me at the elevator.”

He raised his glass in a kind of salute. “Say hello to Montgomery for me.”

He thought I worked for Augustine. I had no idea why, but I’d sort it out later.

I turned and made the long trek to the door. My knees shook. If nobody met me at that elevator, I would have to go back in there. I reached into my pocket. My fingers closed about a reassuring length of chalk.

If I did get trapped, I would make my stand by the elevator. No matter what kind of hell he fermented inside him, I could draw an arcane circle faster than he could, and once I had that boost, my chances shot up. He liked surprises? Well, I would give him one he would never forget.

I opened the door and stepped into the hallway. The elevator stood open, the same Asian man waiting inside with the same serious expression.

A few moments later, the elevator released me into the lobby. No sign of the receptionist.

I crossed the floor. My heart was beating too fast. I reached the doors.

Please be open.

The door swung open under the pressure of my hand and I walked back into the sunshine.

Chapter 7

I was on Katy Freeway, driving home, when I noticed a tail. It would have been harder to spot it if they weren’t driving two IAG Guardian light-armored personnel carriers. The Guardian was a favorite among the Houses that had to transport their private armies, and Grandma Frida had worked on about a million of them.

The Guardian resembled an SUV that had been kidnapped by a paramilitary organization and force-fed steroids. Armored enough to withstand multiple hits from high-power rifles and light machine guns, the Guardian came equipped with off-road capabilities and could be customized to mount light and heavy machine guns. The goons chasing me had opted for a toned-down “city profile” without all of the scary protruding barrels. They religiously changed lanes when I did, and when I slowed to fifty-five miles an hour, which would cause any sensible Texan to blow by me, they hung back and waited.

Benedict De Lacy didn’t like losing his decanter.

Nobody except family knew where I would be today. The two vehicles weren’t behind me when I’d left Diatheke, so they must’ve bugged the Element while I was inside.

When the sniper shot the elephant, he or she had given Benedict a sign that I had backup. Diatheke wasn’t what it seemed, and Benedict probably hated any kind of spotlight. If the sniper and I were on the same team and I failed to exit the building, there would be consequences. Benedict had decided on a wiser course of action—let me leave and hit me en route with a team that couldn’t be traced to his firm.