Dawn Study. Maria V. Snyder
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Valek scooped her up and laid her on the bed, then kissed her for a long moment. She plucked at his clothing, and he grabbed her hands. “This is for you, love.”
“Exactly. Now strip.”
He peeled off the tight garment, but his gaze never left her. Once divested of his clothing, he joined her on the bed. He trailed kisses down her neck. Valek had been convinced he’d lost her when she hadn’t returned from her mission, and he planned to savor this time with her as if it were the last. His efforts left her gasping, and he gave her three very good reasons to stay in bed.
She stretched like a cat and curled up next to him. Yelena met his gaze. “You’re really worried about the bounty on me?”
Valek traced the recently healed cut along her side with a finger. Purple bruises ringed the bright red line. “I know you can handle an assassin.” He quirked a smile. “Or two, but with fifty golds at stake...a gang of wannabe bounty hunters could come after you together and split the money.”
“All right, I’ll stay in HQ until you’ve dealt with The Mosquito,” she promised.
A weight lifted from his shoulders. He pulled her close. She snuggled against him and fell asleep almost immediately. He smoothed her long black hair back from her beautiful oval face. The knowledge that he’d do anything to keep her and the baby safe comforted him, since it required no thinking, no weighing the consequences of his actions and no hesitation.
Valek had once felt the same uncomplicated feelings for the Commander, but not anymore. Even if the Commander’s behavior had been caused by Owen’s magical hold on him, Valek could no longer return to that place of blind loyalty. His new magic complicated everything, of course. However, that would just be an excuse. No. Yelena meant more to him than his own life and happiness, and much more than the Commander’s.
* * *
Valek woke a few hours later and slid from the bed without waking his wife. An automatic smile still spread over his lips every time he thought of Yelena as his wife. Not many people knew of their marriage, and even fewer were aware of the baby, but the fact that they had exchanged vows continued to thrill him, as if he’d won the biggest tournament in the entire world.
Going down one level, Valek stopped in Fisk’s office. The stark room contained a desk, a couple chairs and a table. The young leader of the Helper’s Guild bent over his desk. The fingers of his right hand ran through his light brown hair, leaving behind rows of spikes, while his left clutched a stylus. He frowned at a sheet of parchment spread over the desk.
Valek tapped on the open door, and Fisk glanced up. Dark smudges marked his light brown eyes. The poor boy appeared years older than seventeen.
“When’s the last time you slept?” Valek asked.
Fisk blinked at him. “Sleep? What’s that?”
“Not funny.”
Fisk dropped the stylus and rubbed his face. “Wish I was joking.”
“Bring me up to date, and then take a break.”
“But—”
“It’s not a request. Exhaustion will only lead to fatal mistakes. I’ll collect the information from your guild while you rest.”
He grinned. “Half of them are terrified of you and won’t report.”
“Then they can wait until you’re awake. What’s the latest intel?”
Fisk filled him in. “We think Hans Cloud Mist is a member of the Cartel. He’s been spotted at the Moon garrison twice, and we’ve confirmed Danae Bloodgood and Toki Krystal as members.”
Valek considered this for a moment. They were all influential businesspeople who thought their accumulated wealth and business acumen meant they could do a better job of running Sitia than the appointed Councilors. “I’m beginning to suspect there are eleven members, one for each clan, with Bruns designated as their leader,” he mused.
“Sounds like something they’d do to justify their actions.”
Interesting comment. “What do you mean?”
Fisk leaned back and spread his arms. “They decided that the Sitian Council was not doing a proper job of keeping Sitia safe from the Commander. Plus the Council also failed to rein in the Sitian magicians, letting them go about their business willy-nilly.”
“Willy-nilly?”
“Yeah, you know.” Waving his hands, Fisk elaborated, “Selling null shields to anyone, using their magic for selfish reasons. I think the Cartel feels they can do better than the Councilors, but they still honor the structure the clans have established long ago. So they’re not really usurping the Council—just replacing them.”
“And that helps them sleep better at night?”
“Exactly.” Fisk rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Why is identifying the other members of the Cartel so important when Bruns has brainwashed them along with everyone else? They’ve no clue that Bruns is collaborating with Owen and the Commander.”
“You tell me.”
He huffed. “I don’t know, because in order to stop the Sitian takeover, all we have to do is stop Bruns, Owen Moon and the Commander.”
Valek suppressed a smile at the “all we have to do” comment. If only it were that easy. “Why are these people members of the Cartel?”
Fisk shot him a sour expression. “Okay, I’ll play. They’re rich and powerful. Which is why the Cartel has been so successful in getting resources and converting the garrisons—Oh!”
Valek waited as Fisk followed the logic.
“So we identify them all and wake them up to what’s really going on, so they can use that influence and power to help us instead of Bruns.”
Smart boy. “Or we assassinate them all and take them out of the equation. The added benefit is that we scare their support staff.”
Instead of a knee-jerk reaction to the thought of killing ten people, Fisk paused to consider it. “Yelena would never allow that. She doesn’t want any of the brainwashed to be killed. Besides, I think they’d be more useful alive than dead.”
“And that is why we need to know their identities.”
Fisk yawned. “We’re getting reports back from the garrisons and will soon have a complete list of personnel at each one.”
“Good. I need your people to locate a bug for me.”
“The Mosquito?” He straightened in his chair, looking more awake.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Here in the Citadel.”
“Ah, hell. Is that why Yelena needed...” He stopped. “Won’t he be with Bruns?”
“From