Four Dead Queens(57)

“Why did you make me steal the comm chips in the first place?” I asked. “If they were always intended for you?”

The woman beside Mackiel stiffened. He replied, “Who said the messages were intended for me?”

“If they weren’t, then who were they meant for?”

“I would hate to speak on someone else’s behalf, but I’m afraid the intended recipient can no longer speak for himself,” he replied. The woman beside him grinned manically.

“You killed him,” Varin said.

“I did nothing of the sort,” Mackiel replied. “But the henchmen might’ve got a little carried away. You know what they’re like.” Again, he blamed the henchmen. Did he even realize the darkness he’d invited into his life? While his father had been treacherous, devising a plan to murder the queens was a step too far. Something he could not come back from.

“Why are you doing this?” We’d come here to find out more about who was pulling the strings, but now I wanted to know why Mackiel was involved and why he’d dragged me into it. “What have you been promised for the comm chips?”

“What it’s always about.” He rubbed his fingers together. “And I’ve evolved beyond petty stealing.” Beyond his father’s work—he didn’t have to say it. “Don’t be cross you haven’t caught up”—the right side of his mouth twisted upward—“yet.”

“You’re still trying to best your father,” I thought out loud, ignoring his last jibe. “Still trying to do something he wasn’t powerful enough to do.”

Mackiel’s kohl-lined eyes narrowed. “Don’t speak of my father.”

“One of your little rules,” I said in a singsong voice. “I’m not playing your games anymore. I don’t have to abide by your rules.” I paused, then whispered, “You can’t make your father love you, Mackiel. He’s dead.”

Mackiel lunged for me across the table. The woman pulled him back by his arm. “Enough,” she said. Her hand hovered near a pocket inside her jacket. “We need to leave, Mackiel. We’ve been here too long.” She glanced at me.

His serious mood faded and he nodded. “All right, then.” He gestured toward the door. “Time to see your favorite henchmen.”

He wasn’t planning to kill us here, or perhaps he couldn’t face killing his closest friend, after all. But I couldn’t trust him, not again. But what defense did we have? We’d turned in Varin’s destabilizer at the meeting room’s check-in point; the rooms were too close to the palace to allow the presence of weapons.

The woman touched her jacket again, where a gun could have been holstered. Only she would’ve been searched for weapons as we had been.

That’s it! She wasn’t touching her jacket to warn us she was armed, but rather out of habit. She was as unarmed as we were.

I quickly reassessed the situation. Varin was tall and muscular. I was swift, nimble and unpredictable. The woman was heavier than I was; a little softer, a little slower. And Mackiel had the strength of a coat hanger.

I gave Varin a slight shake of my head. We aren’t leaving.

Leaning against the metal table, I said, “I don’t think so, Mackiel. We paid for an hour in this room, and I want my money’s worth.”

A small crease formed between Varin’s brows, but he kept silent. Good Eonist.

Mackiel winked at me. “I’m afraid I’m not here for that, darlin’. But if we leave now, there may be time later.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and his insinuation. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Our days in each other’s company are over. We’re over.” He was going to have to drag me from this room, and I knew he didn’t have the strength to do so.

A muscle flicked in his neck, the only sign of uncertainty. “Now, let’s not be difficult, darlin’. You know I hate it when you’re difficult.”

I placed my hand on my hip. “Oh, but what is it you said? You made me, so you only have yourself to blame.”

Mackiel bared his teeth like a wild animal. “We. Leave. Now.”

“Or? You don’t have anything I want. And I always need something in return, isn’t that right?”

Varin shifted to my side, but I moved back toward the incinerator. I didn’t want to be protected. I wanted to hurt. I wanted Mackiel to hurt. For what he’d said about my father, and for betraying me.

“Come on, Mackiel,” I goaded. “Scared to take me on without your henchmen by your side? Sweet, innocent me? Your porcelain doll.”

“I will hurt you.” Mackiel spoke through gritted teeth. “If I must.”

The woman moved toward me, but Mackiel flicked her away. He was angry. And when he was angry, he didn’t think clearly. Perfect.

I pursed my lips. “I don’t think you care that I ingested the chips.” Mackiel continued inching toward me. “You only care that I disobeyed you.”

“I was waiting for the day you would, darlin’, but today is not that day.”

“Today, tomorrow, the next—what does it matter? For you never made me,” I sneered at him. “I wanted to be one of your dippers. I became one. I needed a place to stay. You gave me a room. Everything I wanted, you gave it to me. Like that—” I snapped my fingers. “I was never yours. And that day on the dock?” I leaned over the table toward him. “I wanted you to drown.”