Chapter 16

Had Natán hired Zaven to go after Maud? No, Zaven was very insistent about that being his plan. It had been a boast. He wanted Natán to know he’d found an infernal.

I spent the ride home in a blur of jumbled thoughts.

When Roman Whittaker, a British vamp operative, and serial killer of half shedim, was brought back to London HQ, he was murdered in his cell. Director Booker Harrison, the head of that chapter, covered that fact up. Roman would have been staked anyway, since he’d confessed to the murders, but the undetected access to him in that secured cell was what made Ezra and me suspect a Maccabee’s involvement in killing infernals.

Someone with knowledge of Maccabee vamp cells, arrest procedures, and the ability to dodge all security protocols—both magic and tech-based—had silenced Roman.

I’d spent the past two months chasing any whisper to substantiate our suspicions, but concluded that while a powerful figure was involved, it wasn’t anyone from my organization.

Natán Cardoso fit the parameters. He was a former level three Maccabee, knew our procedures inside and out, and I had no doubt he could bypass any security protocols. It also made total sense that a dangerous undead Mafia head would be interested in vampire invincibility.

If I didn’t still feel sick to my stomach that the Authority Council was focused on Ezra, I’d have laughed, because they should have been targeting an entirely different Cardoso.

How long would it be before Natán came for me? Or was it too late?

Was I already in his sights?

When I got home, I lit the second night Hanukkah candles with a quarter of my usual enthusiasm, then I stood by the microwave reheating the risotto Sachie had bought for me, staring into space.

How was I supposed to broach this with Ezra? Asking him if his dad was tangled up in killing infernals would be far worse than when I’d asked if Primes left bodies when staked.

“Earth to Avi.” Sach leaned back against the kitchen counter.

I shook my head to clear it and removed the steaming plate from the microwave.

“Bets on whether Darsh and Silas have slept together yet?” She waggled her eyebrows.

“We’d have heard from Darsh if that were the case. Besides, Silas wouldn’t go down that fast.”

“Phrasing.” Sachie snickered. She sat down across from me, elbow on the dining room table and head in hand. “Want to tell me what you found at Zaven’s place?”

Well, his wife sang off-key but with laughter in her voice, and his little boy liked carrot sticks and the moment that towers fell over and he could stomp among the blocks like he was Godzilla.

“Zaven blackmailed Maud to impress Natán Cardoso.”

Sachie whistled. “You sure?”

“Very strongly positive. Walk through it with me?”

She nodded.

“Starting from the top,” I said. “Six half shedim are murdered in ritualistic killings. Their eyes and hearts are cut out and they’re exsanguinated.”

“No sign of the organs or blood in the vamp black market,” Sachie said.

“Right. However, the killers use a very rare and expensive drug called Claret to speed up the blood loss. Our main suspects are a British vamp operative called Roman Whittaker and Dr. Athena Metaxas.”

“Their motive being that they were using infernal blood to inoculate humans from being turned.” Sachie reached for my fork. “Are you going to eat that, or…”

I pulled my plate closer and took a bite. “When we captured Roman, he confessed to killing Metaxas. She was his link to Claret.” She was also how Roman found the infernals, being one herself. I didn’t have that ability, but different shedim magic for different half shedim and all that. “Roman twisted her hatred of vampires into a belief that she was doing good in the world,” I said. “But the inoculation was a lie. Darsh posited that vamps wanted the infernals’ blood to perform dark magic, which Roman basically confirmed. He was after vampire invincibility.”

Sachie plucked an apple out of the fruit bowl on the table. “How does that lead to Natán specifically, versus any one of a hundred vampires?”

“Roman was murdered in his cell at British HQ.”

“That points to a Maccabee with clearance.”

“I investigated and ruled it out.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were looking into that angle?”

“Plausible deniability and lack of hard evidence.”

“I don’t need protecting.” She shook her half-eaten apple at me. “Yes, Natán was a Maccabee and could have gotten to Roman. He’d also have a fast track to procuring Claret.”

“Right? Suppose he has the missing infernal blood. That brings us to Sire’s Spark.”

Sachie swallowed her next bite. “Natán wasn’t involved in the original theft from the gallery, but he could have stolen it afterward. He could have even arranged for the other artifacts to go back to the cops as a red herring.”

I nodded, though that had been my mother, not Natán. Either he didn’t know about the artifact, or he was still looking for it. I very resolutely did not look toward my bedroom.

“That gives us murdered infernals, their missing blood with magic properties, and an allegedly powerful artifact.” Sachie placed the apple core on a napkin. “I’m going to ask you a question. I’ll ask it once and then never again because I believe that you’ll answer honestly. Did you know Maud was an infernal when you arrested her and then lie to Darsh and me? Plausible deniability?”

I’d wondered when my reckoning for all the lies I’d told Sachie would come. And whether it would be a relief.

I chewed my risotto like it was delicious and not a lump of cardboard in my mouth. The shittiest part of having done exactly what Sachie was asking?

It was the fact that I hadn’t lost a second’s worth of sleep over telling them this fib. I’d drawn a line in the sand that night. Okay, it was more of a circle, with Maccabees, including my mother and my best friends, on the outside, and me and my sister within.

Being an infernal was an identity-level secret that would change how Maud was perceived by the world. All her accomplishments, the fact she was smart, and funny, or any little personality quirks, they’d be eclipsed by the prevalent belief that all shedim were evil, which trumped any humanity.

Sachie didn’t understand that, or it didn’t matter to her, because she wasn’t a half shedim. She didn’t live her life on guard, terrified she’d slip and reveal this core self-truth.

So, no, I would never out Maud.

“She’s not an infernal,” I said.

“Okay.” Sach gathered up her apple core. “Promise me you’ll speak to Ezra immediately about his father and not confront Natán directly.”

“Ezra isn’t his father’s keeper,” I said hotly. He wasn’t even involved with the Kosher Nostra anymore, not that that was mine to share, even with Sach.

“Chill, Avi.” She spoke as she headed for the kitchen with her dishes. “I’ll happily point out Ezra’s many crimes, but this isn’t one of them. I worked that infernals case with him. He was upset and angry.”

“I won’t confront Natán. I can’t promise a timeline on the rest.”

“Fair enough.” There was the sound of the compost bucket lid opening.

Tell her . Cherry’s desire pulsed in my head.

Sachie had opened a door. All I had to do was step through and unburden myself with the secret that had weighed me down my entire life. That relief was almost overwhelming.

I owed her the truth.

Except Sachie didn’t want truth; she wanted hope.

My best friend had risked her relationship with her family for her belief in our organization and the work she did keeping humanity safe. When I floated my demon realm theory, I’d dented her faith—her hope—that what she did was important enough to pay the price with her parents, and that the Maccabees were on the right side of the line between good and evil.

Because of me, she’d been forced into that Authority interrogation, and taken a hit to her career.

I couldn’t work up the courage to deal the worst betrayal of all: having hidden something of this magnitude from her over decades of friendship, living together, and working together.

She might eventually accept Cherry, but she’d never forgive me .

I cleaned up my dirty dishes, feeling like our friendship had shifted slightly out of alignment, because I’d severely fucked up. Like I could see and hear Sach perfectly, but it was through a membrane-thin barrier of my making.

The Hanukkah candles snuffed out, leaving nothing but a faint smudge of smoke.

I was ready to call it a day. At 8:30PM. Screw it. My eyelids were gummy and I was scraped raw. I was an adult. I could go to bed whenever I damn well pleased.

My closet door was slightly ajar and some of the purses on the floor had fallen out. I tossed them back inside, covering up the safe like I was bricking Sire’s Spark up.

It’s not like the crystal was whispering to me or sending shivers up my spine. I didn’t have any scary dreams about having used it and any side effects had worn off that same night. I was still twitchy this close to it, though, because it had turned me into a bloodhound for infernals.

That alone was reason enough for Michael to have liberated it and hidden it in her safe, but whoever blackmailed Maud found her without the artifact’s help.

I pitched my clothes into my hamper. Now I had a potential connection between Zaven and Natán. Sire’s Spark detected my kind, but was that all it did or was it also a factor in vampire invincibility? I had to determine which it was, which meant speaking to Ezra sooner rather than later.

I froze, my arms jammed into the sleeves of the crimson sweater and my head inside the fabric, realizing I’d instinctively sought it out after a stressful day. Given what I faced, the smart move would be to clothe myself in impersonal synthetic, not this silken cloud whose every stitch was a reminder of the time and care that Ezra had poured into it. I shoved my head through the neck hole and folded the cuffs with their sparkly accents back.

It was just a sweater, not some Trojan Horse worming its way past my defenses. I crawled under the covers, my phone in hand. I’d never complimented Ezra on his successful last-minute rescue, though did I want to deal with the inevitable cocky retort?

I placed my phone on the bedside table. He was probably busy hanging out with Silas.

Unless he was being swarmed by Hellions or fending off attacks.

I grabbed the phone and texted: Where did you learn Japanese?

His response was instant. Almost like he’d been waiting—or hoping—to hear from me. My father was a firm believer in the importance of knowing different languages.

Oh. That was actually a nice fact about his dad. I was about to text as much when he sent another message.

I wanted to learn Italian to impress girls, but he spoke that already so it wasn’t a good use of my education.

If I hadn’t already hated Natán, this would have done it. Everything about Ezra’s upbringing had been a calculated move to further his dad’s power base. I tapped my thumb against the side of my phone. This was the perfect opening to launch into what I’d learned about Natán and Zaven.

Me: Spanish wasn’t seductive enough? Greedy of you, Cardoso .

It may shock you to learn that my teen years were unfortunate in the appearance department . I needed all the help I could get.

Pics or it didn’t happen . My fingers flew over the keyboard.

All evidence was destroyed.

Coward . I watched the screen intently for his reply.

He sent back a photo of a toad with a mullet.

Oof , I typed, snickering. That is unfortunate .

Do you ever wear the sweater I made you ?

The question caught me off guard. My first instinct was to lie, but once upon a time Ezra had been one of my best friends and I missed that more than I craved our chemistry. Plus, this text exchange had been fun and I was tired of everything between us being either combative or mission related.

We needed a chance to just be us.

I sent back a photo of me mugging at the camera, but with the covers at my waist so he could clearly see the sweater I wore to bed. I love it .

Thank you. Sweet dreams, Aviva .

Sweet dreams, Ezra.