Dead Man Rising

You enjoyed it. But that was unfair. So had I. "For fuck's sake. You could be next, Sebastiano. Quit fucking around with me and tell me what I need to know or I'll leave you to it and track it down from the other end."

Polyamour held up the spade necklace. It glittered, a venomous dart of light. "I'm dead anyway. We couldn't kill Mirovitch, we were just kids. It was Keller's idea that they… they each take some." Her hand jittered. The spade danced, more barbs of light spitting. "I don't know all of it, Valentine. My job was to get them into Mirovitch's private rooms past the security. Keller couldn't take him on by himself. And nobody wanted to take him on in a Feeder duel. Nobody wanted to become a Feeder, hunted down, despised even after treatment. So Keller came up with the idea. They each take a part."

I blinked. That's part of why the inquiry was sealed. If word got out that a circle of psions—just kids—had slipped their collars and murdered the Headmaster of a school, especially one as experienced as Mirovitch…

That would be even worse than the public-relations fiasco of a school with a Headmaster gone awry. It was publicly more palatable for the Headmaster to abuse the students. Psions were already hated and feared equally in some places, uneasily accepted at best. The Hegemony needed us, we were protected under the law—but publicity was another thing entirely.

My stomach turned sour. It was the reality of living in the modern world, but it still nauseated me. It was more acceptable for him to abuse us than for us to turn on him. Because after all, if psions could kill when they were children, where did that leave the adults? Too dangerous to be left alive, maybe. That was the logical extension to that thought, wasn't it?

Jace shifted slightly. I caught his meaning as if he'd laid it in my brain with a telepath's light open touch.

"Keller?"

"Kellerman." Polyambur sighed.

The name didn't ring a bell. "I must not have met him."

Her voice took on a scraping note of sarcasm, elegantly done of course. "I doubt you'd remember it even if you did. He was eminently forgettable."

"Kellerman?"

Polyamour shivered, her hair trembling—I didn't bother to speak softly, and the entire room reverberated, the tray ringing softly against the creaking table, the walls groaning slightly, the curtains over the windows blown back, throwing gauzy shadows over the walls. I wondered if her body was betraying her, if she was fighting the urge to come back and drop at my feet, fawn on me.

I suppressed a shiver. I thanked my gods I hadn't been born a sexwitch or been sent out as a breeder. Or indentured to a colony. Or any of the thousand other things that could have happened.

Still… it would be so easy to scare her a little, just a very little, and feel that delicious drowning feedback again.

"It was a nickname. Kellerman Lourdes. His parents were Novo Christer, died in a colony transport crash." Polyamour let out a low breath. "What else do you want?"

"Why the Feeder glyphs? And who else was in this?" The pattern was rising from the depths of coincidence like a shape breaking up through smooth glassy water, pieces falling into place. But not enough pieces, and not nearly quickly enough.

"Only Keller knew. We'd meet him in that boathouse on the grounds—you remember that shack? Anyway, none of us knew about anything other than the person we recruited—never more than one more—and Keller. He took secrecy very seriously. I was only recruited to get Keller and the others through the security."

"The others?" You'd think she'd be spilling everything she ever even thought she knew about this Keller and Mirovitch, I thought sourly. But she was pale and shaking, only the flush of my power keeping her from collapsing. If memory could reopen the scars on my back and almost force me into shock, echo in Eddie's head loud enough to make him shake even after all these years, and push the fabled Polyamour into losing her careful control, then she deserved a few seconds and all the gentleness I could muster.

Especially since I was almost trembling with the urge to do something unforgivable, just so I could have a few moments of oblivion. I had never understood bought sex before, never.

Not until now.

"I think Yasrule was one of them. Maybe. I don't know." Tears thickened her exquisite voice, welling in her dark, haunted eyes.

"You weren't there? How could you short out the security and—"

"He liked orgies." When she mentioned Mirovitch, it was obvious; her voice took on a weight of whispery fear and utter loathing that scraped the air and made it bleed. "So I brought fresh meat, and I brought Keller. I had to get close to him and—"

"Sekhmet sa'es," I whispered. "Your one recruit and Keller."

She nodded. "Once we were inside, Keller slipped his collar and bought enough time for me to get the security circle down. Then I dragged the meat away—she was a Magi, Dolores Ancien-Ruiz, she didn't know anything. That's why I hate myself. He was busy with her while I' Keller started his… plan… and I worked on the net." Polyamour held up her caramel hand, examining her shaking fingers as if they belonged to someone else. "I do hate myself for that."

I had to know. "Why?"

Her shoulders dropped and she pulled them back taut again. "Dolores committed suicide two years later. She was eleven when she hung herself."

Shit. I would have wanted to question her too. The thought of an eleven-year-old girl hanging herself… I pushed it away.

"I hauled her out of the Headmaster's House. She was screaming. They went past me—they were all wearing ski masks, but I thought I recognized Yasrule. And Aran. And Hollin."

"Hollin? Hollin Sukerow?" Him I knew, by reputation at least. I glanced up at Jace, who was pale, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. It wasn't a comfortable story. He was vulnerable to Poly's pheromones, too. I wondered what he smelled when she drenched the air with fear.

"The very same." Polyamour's chin lifted, a faint note of challenge. "Are you almost done? I have an appointment I would rather not miss."

As if you have anything more important to do. But it might just have been that she wanted us gone, that she wanted to start forgetting the fear that made her helpless. I made it to my feet, this time scooping up my sword. Paced over to her, avoiding the low table. I don't know what she saw in my face, but she dropped her eyes, her entire body shifting just a few millimeters. It was amazing how she could express complete but grudging submission with such a subtle movement. I wished I had body language that expressive.

Less than a foot from her, I halted. My fingernails scraped her hand as I took the spade necklace from her slackening fingers. This close, with my aura blurring and wrapping around her, she sighed, leaning forward as if she would lay her head on my shoulder.

I stuffed both spade necklaces into my pocket and caught her nape again with my free hand, holding my sword well clear. Polyamour's forehead touched mine.

Her skin was fevered, but still not as warm as mine. She exhaled, I smelled human breath, coffee, and sexwitch musk. If I kissed her, she would melt against me, and Jace would be left standing on the couch. It had been a long, long time for me; and she…

But I want to scare her. I don't think I could control myself. The thought frightened me, because it was so goddamn tempting, and would be oh so very easy.

What have I become?

Her aura turned gold as I pushed Power into her, more and more and more until she cried out hoarsely, her body shuddering and hips jerking helplessly forward again. My fingers suddenly turned to iron to brace her. "Full-up," I whispered. "Now for a few nights, you don't have to feed. Take a vacation. And stop beating yourself up over Dolores." My own breath caught as I inhaled, struggling for control. Kept it. I don't do that. I don't use people like that. I DON'T.