• • •
ZAIRA spent the remaining daylight hours making sure she knew the exact locations of every water-based changeling in Venice. The task was complicated by the fact that they didn’t exactly stand out or call attention to themselves, but thanks to the groundwork laid by Arrows since the squad began, she had back-end access to a number of very secure databases. She also had a network of informants in the city.
She’d started putting that network in place the instant she was assigned the Venice command. Marjorie and Naoshi had always assumed they’d be in command when Venice went active, but logistically, they couldn’t run Venice as a fully functioning base of Arrow operations and maintain the complex system of safe houses around the world. The latter was a task at which they were expert and that no one else could do. That, at least, was what Aden had told them—and it was all categorically true. Marjorie and Naoshi had long ago proven their exceptional ability to settle at-risk Arrows into safe new lives.
What Aden didn’t point out was that his parents, despite their undisputable skill and position as initiators of the rebellion, were, in many ways, stuck in the past and in the old way of doing things. In contrast, Zaira, like many other Arrows who’d come of age with Aden, understood that while fear was a weapon, even better was information—and not just from Psy sources.
It was that kind of a commander Aden had needed in Venice.
After she kept her word and paid the first few scared informants as promised, others had started to pass over pieces of data. According to one of her long-term and more talkative informants, word on the street was that “the scary Psy chick is all about business—don’t mess with her and she’ll treat you square. Cross her and maybe you find your ass floating in a canal one dark night.”
As far as street reps went, Zaira was pleased with hers.
In the end, she calculated she’d identified eighty-five to ninety percent of the water changelings in the city. The remainder had to have come in via no known transport options, never registered to receive any services, and drawn zero notice. Miane Levèque and her guards failed only on the last factor—and Zaira knew that had been on purpose.
The BlackSea alpha had wanted to make her presence felt.
Now, as Zaira pulled herself onto the balcony outside the hotel room where Miane Levèque slept tonight, she didn’t for an instant forget that the other woman was a deadly predator.
The lock on the balcony door was more secure than she’d expected, but Zaira had always been good at getting into places. Waiting in silence for ten minutes until she was certain no one was moving in the room beyond, the night hushed around her, she slipped inside. Her eyes already adjusted to the darkness, she saw that she was in an elegant living area. No one else breathed in the room.
She knew that there was, however, a guard on the door directly outside.
Zaira had checked the hallway before she came in this way.
Conscious of the acute hearing possessed by so many changelings, she made her way to the bedroom door in absolute quiet and listened. No movement.
Slipping inside, she saw Miane’s form beneath the sheets in the large bed. Most people would have believed her asleep. “Your body is too tense.”
The BlackSea alpha’s hand reached out to turn on a bedside lamp. Its glow was soft rather than cutting, but Zaira was prepared regardless. She’d narrowed her eyes so as not to be overwhelmed by a sudden change from dark to light.
“Really?” Miane said. “I thought I’d controlled the tension.”
“Enough to fool the majority of people.” Zaira leaned against the wall by the door, arms folded. “You don’t need the gun you’ve got in your other hand. If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead.”
“Are you sure?” The other woman sat up, the sheet sliding away to reveal a slip in a pale color Zaira thought might be called champagne. Her eyes held Zaira’s and they weren’t black as they’d been during their initial meeting, but a lighter shade.
“Yes,” she said, as Miane got out of bed and, placing the gun on the bedside table, pulled on the robe that had been thrown over a nearby chair. That robe matched the slip. “I’m an assassin. You’re well trained and dangerous, but you don’t expect me to come up behind you and snap your spine.”
“You’d have to get that close to me first.”
“I could’ve done it two hours ago, while you were visiting the elderly human who lives in the neighboring district.”
Miane went preternaturally still. “You followed me.”
“Of course.” Zaira wasn’t about to allow a threat to wander freely around her city. “The human is a relative? Your features are distinctive.”
“My grandmother,” Miane said, and Zaira knew she’d only shared that because it was something Zaira could easily discover on her own. “Would you like a coffee?”
Zaira stepped aside to let the BlackSea alpha pass into the other room, careful to follow at a pace that allowed her eyes to adjust to the much brighter light Miane had flicked on. “No coffee for me.”
Waiting while the other woman prepared one for herself, she wasn’t surprised when the door opened, the big male named Malachai in the doorway. His eyes went to Zaira, grew hard. “Miane?”
“I’m fine, Mal. Zaira decided to drop by for a visit.”
“Next time, use the door,” Malachai said, his voice holding the distinct edge of a growl.
Zaira kept her silence and wondered what sea creature growled. Or perhaps that was the human part of Malachai.