Ruby Fever (Hidden Legacy, #6)(16)

A PET scan wouldn’t help Linus. It would be strictly for our benefit. Dr. Patel recommended taking the wait-and-see approach. Linus would either come out of it or he wouldn’t, and there was nothing any of us could do about it.

The Compound was on high alert. Patricia Taft, our security chief, was pulling in all off-duty personnel. In twenty minutes, the entire family would gather in the conference room across from my office. I needed to present a plan of action and I had to appear calm and unrattled.

I was very rattled. Calm wasn’t even in my vocabulary right now.

As I sat here, Linus could be slowly dying. He could be taking his final breath right this second, and I wouldn’t even know until they called me. A part of me had gone into a paranoid alert anticipating that any moment my phone would ring, and Dr. Patel would announce that Linus was gone.

What then? I didn’t know, but when we all met in a few minutes, somebody was bound to ask. I would have to give them an answer. And it would have to be an honest one, because while I could lie through my teeth to the entire state of Texas, I couldn’t bullshit my family.

A quiet scratching came from my door.

I swiped the tears from my eyes, got up, and opened it. Shadow slipped into the room. She was long and shaggy, with glossy black fur that curled backward and a surprisingly toothy mouth for a smallish dog.

“How did you even find me?”

Shadow wagged her tail. She was carrying a stuffed hamburger toy in her mouth. When I got upset, she would bring me her toys, and sometimes, if I didn’t pay attention to her efforts, she would climb up on the furniture and try to put the toy into my mouth to make me feel better.

I petted her and went back to the computer. Shadow curled up in the dog bed next to me.

I tapped my keyboard to bring my computer back to life, took the USB out of my pocket, and plugged it in. Lines of nonsense code filled the screen. Encrypted. Of course. I took the storage stick out. I would have to let Bern mess with it.

I logged into the Warden Interface with my credentials. The system let me in, and I selected “Emergency Notification” from the menu at the top of the page.

A new window popped up, blank. Linus had walked me through this. I was supposed to type out the nature of my emergency and wait for a response.

Speaker Luciana Cabera was murdered in a restaurant during lunch. Warden Duncan was attacked in his home and took Styxine. He is now in a vegetative state but stable and safe in my care. I suspect Arkan’s involvement. Prince Konstantin Berezin has approached me in my official capacity with an unspecified offer of assistance. Please advise.



I hit enter and waited. I had no idea if a Speaker of a State Assembly had been murdered before, but knowing the volatility of House politics, this probably wasn’t the first time. There were likely protocols in place to deal with dead Speakers, injured Wardens, and pushy foreign princes. Perhaps we would get some help, someone with more experience, a Warden from out of state or an agent from the National Assembly.

I got a tissue and dabbed at my eyes. If only I could stop crying, I would be okay. I wasn’t sobbing. The tears just kept leaking from my eyes, squeezed out by stress and pressure. If I walked into the meeting with my eyes all red, the entire family would focus on making me feel better instead of listening to what I had to say.

I needed to sort myself out and fast. Work was a great distraction. When you couldn’t deal with stress, sometimes it helped to sidestep it. I still had the Cabera murder, and I was overdue for a video call.

Agent Wahl answered immediately. “Agent Wahl.”

Some people looked exactly the way they were supposed to. Linus looked like a Prime, a top-tier mage who had been at the apex of power for decades. Similarly, Agent Wahl looked like an FBI agent: severe haircut, grave expression, athletic build, and that no-nonsense look in his eyes that suggested he knew you were up to no good even if you didn’t and he was not amused.

“You owe me a favor.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. That little affair involving two foreign Primes and a mysterious briefcase.”

“Still not ringing any bells.”

“The one that was rigged to explode if they didn’t open it in unison.”

“Oh, that briefcase. I’d nearly forgotten the whole thing.”

“Agent Wahl, it was two months ago. I dropped everything and came to your building on a Sunday. You owe the Office of the Warden a favor.”

“I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“It wouldn’t be a favor if you did.”

He sighed. “Lay it on me.”

I gave him the address of the warehouse. Our crew would be long gone by now.

“What’s there?”

“Something I need you to take point on. Consider this an anonymous tip.”

He gave a short chuckle and hung up.

I opened a browser and searched for Konstantin Berezin. A row of images popped up, followed by numerous links. Konstantin in a sharp dark-blue uniform with bloodred trim. Imperial Air Force. Konstantin next to his father, an older hard-faced man, both in suits and overcoats, posing for a publicity shot in the middle of a snow-strewn street, with the golden cupolas of some Russian cathedral behind them. Konstantin with his brothers, all in different military uniforms at some formal function.

One brother wore the black of the Imperial Navy and a magnanimous patient smile. The other brother, dark-haired like their father, looked like he wanted to punch somebody. Anybody. He didn’t seem to care who. His deep green Army uniform fit him like a second skin. Mom would call him squared away. Konstantin stood between them with a dreamy smile, as if he had just taken a long happy nap in a hammock under some tree.