Not that I intended backing out. Even if Jack would let me back out.

"Why is he calling in his generals?"

"Because he plans his war against the other syndicates."

"In a month," I said, suddenly remembering Dia's message to Gautier. "When the Directorate lies in your control."

Her gaze swept me. "How did you guess?"

"Fledging clairvoyance skills," I muttered, and rubbed a hand across my eyes. "We have to stop him."

"Yes." She hesitated. "Starr and his lieutenants have their very own, very secure floor under the mansion, and it is fitted with all the latest scanners. It is there he'll meet his people and plan his war. You will not get anywhere near it. Your best bet is the arena, winning the attentions of Alden and Leo, and reading their minds every night. If you can."

And that "if" seemed to be getting bigger and bigger every time I thought about it. I grabbed my backpack and stood up. "The plans?"

She rose and moved to the mantelpiece to pick up a notebook and several rolled-up sheets of paper. "Everything I know about security is in here." She handed me the book and the papers. "The other item is the contract you are supposed to have signed on recruitment. It's basically a work agreement and terms. The others will have read it."

"Then I'd better, too."

She nodded. "And in answer to your earlier question about my sight, I have assistance to help me see when I am outside the boundaries of this house."

I raised my eyebrows. "What type of assistance?"

"If you knew Misha as well as you have said, then you will know of the Fravardin."

I nodded. The Fravardin were guardian spirits Misha had met and enlisted when he'd been in the Middle East. "He never did tell me how he'd managed to get their services, though."

She smiled. "He saved them. Now they are indebted to him, and honor bound to following his wishes, even after his death."

One of his apparent wishes was the Fravardin protecting me, but I hadn't sensed the creatures, let alone met one face-to-face. If you could meet a spirit creature face-to-face, that was. "How is that related to your sight?"

"One of the Fravardin was placed in my service. Whenever I go beyond the four walls of this house, he is with me. I am able to connect through his mind and use his eyes."

I snorted softly. "So you were never in clanger last night, even if those vamps hadn't been a setup?"

"No. The Fravardin would have taken care of any real threat."

Which was a warning as much as it was a statement. "Then why couldn't you use the Fravardin to take out Starr and rescue your daughter?"

"Because he is my eyes, and my bodyguard when required, but nothing more. Risa is my child, but she does not fall within his guardianship role."

"So they're sticklers for obeying Misha's wishes to the word?"

"Yes."

Then maybe I wouldn't feel the Fravardin's presence until my life was in danger. But how would it know if it wasn't around? And did I really want an answer to that, especially if it meant putting my life on the line to find out?

The answer was a resounding no.

"Why would Misha give you one of the Fravardin? I thought the five of you were less than friendly with each other."

She smiled. "That is true up to a point. But Misha and I shared more of a history than the others. I suppose you could say that he is my brother."

"You're his sister?" I said, incredulously. "But… aren't you all clones?"

She nodded. "Yes, but Misha and I are clones of siblings. Our original selves were born of a Helki mother and silver pack father, and were fraternal twins, born of the same mother and father. If a clone is capable of sibling love, then I guess we shared that. I miss him."

"So—" I paused, trying to gather my suddenly scattered thoughts. "If you're clones of siblings, does it mean that, like the originals, you are both able to shift shape?"

She raised a pale eyebrow. "What makes you ask that?"

"Simple curiosity." I'd wondered when I'd first found out about the Helkis and their shapeshifting abilities if Misha might have had another form—wondered whether the body he wore all the time was really his. Of course, he was dead and it really didn't matter anymore, but still, part of me wanted to know. Especially when his "sister" had the potential to either make or break our mission. My gaze went to her blue eyes—eyes that were so very different to his. Deliberately so, probably. "Misha told me that shape-shifting took a lot of power, and that the eyes were the hardest part to maintain. So which of you is closest to your real form, and how could he—and you—maintain the changes day in and day out?"

"Our changes are subtle, which is why we are able to maintain them so easily." She smiled, but it was a fleeting, almost sad thing. "Last night you saw our true hair color. Misha preferred to maintain silver hair rather than the mixed color, but he never changed his eye color. Like the original, he was born with silver eyes."

"And you?"

"Helki brown, ringed by blue."

"So why do you change it?"

"Because blue is more effective in my work." The bright depths of her eyes suddenly cleared of any emotion, and were all the more chilling because of it. "For Misha alone, I would have my revenge."

"Which is why Starr took Risa hostage."

"Yes."

"So why haven't you contacted the Directorate before now?"

"Because of Gautier. Because I did not know how much you knew about him, or how far his influence went." She snorted softly. "If I were to believe everything he said, he practically runs the place now."

That had my eyebrows raising. "I was given the impression that you and Gautier never met during your information exchanges."

"We don't."

"Then how have you talked to him?"

"Where else would I talk to him? At the estate, of course."

Chapter Five

Fuck was the only word that came immediately to mind, and even that didn't really encompass the shitload of trouble that had just raised its ugly head. Or, given it was Gautier we were talking about, maybe that should have been its greasy, stinking, ugly head.

"Well, at least that explains where Gautier has disappeared to on the few occasions we've lost him," Jack commented. "But it doesn't change our plans. Liander's work is subtle, but good. I doubt he'd recognize either of you."

Maybe not by sight, but if I opened my mouth and started throwing barbs his way, like I normally did, he'd certainly suspect. There weren't many people as stupid as I tended to be when he was around.

"All you have to do," Jack continued, "is keep out of his way, and keep your mouth shut. And that's an order, not a suggestion."

One I'd definitely try to obey. Gautier had already beaten up on me—I had no intention of giving him a second chance. Especially in a place where there was no one to save my ass at the last moment.

"So," I said to Dia, "how often does he appear there?"

She shrugged. "Only very occasionally. Starr does not wish him to be seen or recognized."

"He's a guardian—they work at night. I doubt any of Starr's regulars would recognize him."

Her smile was grim. "There are politicians who have access to files. Starr doesn't want to take the risk because he believes Gautier's position at the Directorate is unknown and safe."

Then yay us for keeping our knowledge of him a secret.

"Is he one of Starr's lovers?" Somehow, I just couldn't imagine Gautier being homosexual. Though, I couldn't actually imagine him making love to women, either. He'd always seemed asexual to me.

"No. Starr uses him as an occasional form of punishment—do something seriously wrong, and you fight Gautier." She hesitated. "No one has ever beaten him."

No surprise there. The man was a stinking fighting machine. "Does he kill them?"