Part 33 (2/2)
Miranda shut her eyes again, trying to concentrate. If she could summon enough strength, she could call for help-surely David would be able to sense her, even if they were really far away. She reached out with her senses . . .
. . . and found them blocked. She couldn't feel anything beyond the cell. That meant that David couldn't feel her either.
”Oh, G.o.d,” she said. ”I can't project. We're cut off.”
”I know that.”
”There's a room like this at the Haven . . . it's where I learned to s.h.i.+eld myself. No matter what goes on inside, it can't get outside. Psychic signals, even cell phones and the coms . . . they won't be able to find us.”
”It takes an incredible amount of power to create a s.h.i.+elded chamber,” Deven noted, eyes wandering around the room. ”Either she's got resources beyond a few amulets from Volundr or this place existed before she got here.”
”What do we do?” she asked, starting to panic. ”What do we do?”
”First . . . calm down. They might not be able to find us via the Signet bond, but there are other ways. You're married to a genius, remember?”
”He hasn't been able to find Ovaska so far. What if-”
”Things are different now. By kidnapping us, she changed her MO. That throws in more variables. They'll find us, Miranda. We just have to survive until they do.”
”Can you Mist?”
Deven shook his head. ”I'm way too scattered already.”
”Why hasn't she killed us yet?”
Deven snorted quietly. ”Clearly you've never been vengeful. Killing someone who can't see your face isn't nearly as satisfying . . . and killing us while we were in pain would have been merciful.”
”So she could be here any minute to finish us off,” Miranda concluded. ”We have to be ready for her-I just need to get up-”
She didn't have a chance to finish the thought, much less formulate a plan. There was the sound of a metal bolt shooting home, and a door across from the cells swung open.
Marja Ovaska walked into the room, giving them both a nasty, self-satisfied smile. She was wearing a metal disc on a chain identical to the one she'd lost at Drew's school . . . and she was holding a hand-carved stake.
She stood in front of the cell doors for a minute, not speaking, just watching Miranda. She was, Miranda noticed, a strikingly beautiful woman with cropped blond hair and large blue eyes; Miranda pictured her standing next to Sophie's dark pixie looks, and the image made a wistful sort of sense. It also helped explain why Deven had developed a soft spot for the couple; physically they reminded Miranda of the Pair, with one small and dark, the other tall and blond.
Miranda started to speak, but Ovaska cut her off. ”Don't bother,” she said, and yes, she had an accent now that Miranda hadn't heard the night of Drew's death. ”I don't care if you're sorry.”
”Well, good,” Deven said caustically. ”Miranda may have sympathy for your sob story-poor you, your lover died, now you have to strike back. Cue the violins. I couldn't care less.”
Ovaska looked at him with loathing . . . but also, Miranda sensed, with the slightest undercurrent of fear. Deven had been right . . . even though she had the power here, and even though she was no longer part of the Shadow, an agent was always an agent, and even chained to the wall at her mercy, the Alpha was still the Alpha.
”We both know this isn't about Miranda getting Sophie killed,” Deven went on. ”Sophie made her own choices-that's what's eating you alive. Because when it came down to it, she chose Miranda, and the Signets, over you.”
”Shut up,” Ovaska said softly.
”If you're going to kill us, kill us,” the Prime told her. ”If you stall, you'll be caught. I taught you better than that . . . unless . . .”
”Deven,” Miranda interrupted, ”don't taunt the crazy person with the stake!”
But Deven was staring at Ovaska hard, eyes narrowed. ”She's not crazy. Are you, Marja? Did you really bring us here to kill us? This whole setup . . . the bomb, the cells, the poison . . . it's more than simple vengeance. I know you.”
Now Ovaska smiled. ”Do you think so?”
”You're not this sentimental. Sophie was the one who begged me not to kill you both. Even in love, even facing execution at my hands, you didn't betray a sc.r.a.p of emotion. If all you wanted was revenge, you would have found a way to kill Miranda by now . . . you wouldn't have missed the first time.”
”You said she was sizing me up,” Miranda said. ”And that killing the others was to hurt me.”
Deven shook his head. ”That may be true, but it's not the whole story. The more complicated this whole thing became, the less sense it made. It's cliche, Marja. Scorned woman out for blood-bulls.h.i.+t. Volundr introduced you to someone, didn't he? Someone with a lot of money and a very particular purpose.”
Still smiling, Ovaska took a key from her pocket and opened Deven's cell door. She walked up to him so that they were inches apart and said to him very calmly, ”Now you're the one who's stalling.”
She rested the point of the stake against Deven's cheek, then drew it slowly down his neck, over his chest. ”What do you suppose would happen to the Red Shadow if I killed the Alpha?” she asked.
”Well,” Deven replied, ”given that I issued a kill order on you, even if you walk out of this building alive, you'll find out pretty quickly.”
”I fooled you once,” Marja told him. ”You walked right into the trap I set for you. I evaded the Southern Elite for weeks. If I can do that, I can outfox your agents.”
”Why did you set a trap, again?” Deven asked. ”Why are we here?”
Miranda focused her will on her limbs, and slowly, very slowly, she got her hands underneath her to try and push herself up. She didn't know what she was going to do, but she wasn't going to lie there on the floor and wait for Ovaska to make a move. One way or another she was going to go down fighting.
Ovaska's head jerked toward her. ”Don't try it,” she snapped. ”There's nowhere for you to go.”
Deven seized her lapsed attention, pulled his knees up to his chest, and kicked Ovaska hard in the midsection. She staggered backward, hitting the bars with a loud clank, and flailed sideways to grab the bars and stay upright. The stake, knocked out of her hand, clattered to the floor inches from the wall of bars between the cells.
Miranda shoved herself up and dove for it, sticking her arm through the bars and getting her hand around the stake.
As she jerked backward Ovaska regained her footing, and pain exploded through Miranda's hand as Ovaska stomped on her fingers. Miranda cried out and dropped the stake, which Ovaska bent and retrieved. Miranda pulled her arm back just in time to avoid another stomp.
Miranda held her arm against her chest, the pain of her broken fingers nearly making her sick.
Ovaska glared down at her. ”b.i.t.c.h,” she snarled.
She returned her attention to Deven, who didn't look particularly disappointed that the gamble hadn't worked. ”Worth a try,” he said.
Ovaska straightened her clothes, rotating her neck as if to work out a kink, then considered the stake in her hand and the Prime bound before her. ”You're right,” she said finally. ”Yes, I wanted revenge. Killing all her little friends did make me feel better . . . although if one of them had talked, told me how to find the Haven, that would have made things much easier for me. Your people are nothing if not loyal. It's annoying. But it turns out there are greater powers out there than the Signets . . . and bigger paychecks than the Shadow.”
Deven met her eyes. ”Who are you working for, Marja?”
She smiled. ”Not you.”
She glanced over at Miranda. ”The contract stipulates: one live Signet, physically intact, to be delivered tonight. As they say, I can kill two birds with one stone. I can destroy the woman who destroyed my life, and I can make myself obscenely rich and finally get out of the game. This is what I learned from you, Sire. Cold, calculating efficiency. This woman is important to my client, and to my desire for justice . . . and you . . .”
She ran her fingers down the shaft of the stake, pondering a moment longer, before she finished, ”You, Sire, are expendable.”
She smiled. Then she drove the stake into Deven's stomach.
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