“Greetings! You’ve reached VAL, where death—”
“Porca puttana!”
Reynaldo interrupted Nigel’s Beethan’s cheerful voice with an oath. He flung his paintbrush into the turpentine with such force, droplets of paint-infused liquid landed on the Aubusson carpet beneath him. He didn’t bother checking for potential damage. He didn’t care.
“Uh...okay. Hi there. Apologies, but I don’t speak German. Or whatever,” Nigel replied.
“It’s Italian.”
“Oh. Okay. I’m gonna guess it’s not a nice word, which is just...wild. While I’m at it, I’ll take another stab at conjecture. Is this...um...Count Reynaldo Moroseni, by any chance?”
“Who else could it be?”
“I have several associates that come to mind. Would you like a listing?”
“No. I would like you to answer your line the first time!”
“This is classic. Aren’t you the guy who doesn’t even open a missive unless he feels like it?”
“That is beside the point. I have called. And you failed to return my messages!”
There was a brief pause. “Messages?” Nigel asked with a choked tone.
“I have called four times! Four! And left messages with the answering service!”
“Holy shit!”
The line went dead. Reynaldo stared at the cell phone incomprehensively for a long moment.
What was this?
The bastardo hung up on him?
Realization hit. He flung the phone at a far wall; so far away he could barely see the impact. He could hear the satisfying sound, however. It did little to curb the rage. His heart rate kicked up, pumping a dark violet color through his vision with every beat. He grabbed the paintbrush, stabbed it into one of the colors on his palette, and flung it onto the canvas he was wrecking, pushing with such force the brush went right through. And that wasn’t the worst of it.
He was shaking.
He almost had the tremor conquered when a loud operatic aria filled the chamber with sound. Reynaldo instantly released the brush, leaving it dangling in place to flip a paint-flecked lace cuff off his hand. He shoved beneath a velvet lapel of his satin jacket, grabbed a pack of cell phones. It took too long to access. Frustration sent a snarl across his features while his canines vibrated ominously. Finally, he had it free. He yanked a phone from the pack, clicked connect, and started speaking before the line opened.
“This had best be Nigel!”
“Whoa. Calm down, buddy.”
“You coglione! If you were anywhere near me right now—!”
“Mellow out, man. I’ll get to you. Akron? You on the line?”
“Affirmative.”
The depth and breadth of the deep voice that answered had an immediate effect. Reynaldo straightened. Blinked. Physically controlled any shudder. A sense of relief washed through him with a palpable cooling sensation, overriding the urgency of moments before. His newly regenerated heartbeat stuttered and slowed. The violet haze even started receding. And all of it felt extremely odd.
“I know you wanted me to run the desk today, Sir, but this is heavy. I might need some advice.”
“And it involves Count Moroseni? Interesting.”
“I’m about to obliterate Castle Poenari. 4-D Team Blue is on approach. We have about eight minutes unless you disagree.”
Nigel had deployed a 4-D team and was targeting the VAL headquarters? Reynaldo knew the other letters stood for destroy, disinfect, and disappear. This was news and almost interesting enough to take Reynaldo’s mind off his problem.
Almost.
“Associates are all evacuated—uh. Except Ethelstone and Steph. They’re awaiting me at the hangar. And we could really use his twin, Athlerod, but hey. He’s out of range.”
“You know where he is?”
“Of course. He’s my responsibility, remember?”
“Go on,” Akron answered.
“It started with Moroseni. What he said without meaning to. By the way, I’m gonna guess he found his mate and then lost her, and I’ll get to that, Reynaldo. Once I’m airborne.”
Reynaldo pulled the phone from his ear and stared at it. It wasn’t just due to Nigel’s correct interpretation of his call, but the kid’s authoritative tone was also a surprise, especially considering the barely mature voice he possessed.
“The Hunter organization has gained a lot of brain power, Sir...and I mean a lot. Reynaldo told me he’s left messages with an answering service we don’t have.”
“We've been hacked?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You certain it’s them?”
“I checked the Abyss Link. Not only have I been locked out, but my actions invited in a worm. It’s attempting a trace now. I can barely spot it and couldn’t stop it. I’m telling you, somebody is very smart all-of-a-sudden. I don’t know who. Or how. But I’m impressed. I believe they’ve been triangulating our position with each of Moroseni’s prior calls. Judging by the fact they let his last call through, they’re closing in, and that should explain my subsequent actions.”
“Impressive,” Akron said.
“You agree then?”
“Completely,” Akron replied.
“There! I’m done. Systems wiped clean. And...I’m out! Will call you both back.”
The connection ended. Reynaldo dropped the phone. Lifted the pack and watched it until one of them sang again. He must have lost the ability to tell time because it felt like it took forever. He instantly went upright again. Slid the phone out. Pressed the connect button. Held the cell to his ear. Akron was speaking so Reynaldo had to wait some more.
“...ascertain intelligence level.”
“I intend to, just as soon as—oh. Reynaldo? You connected?” Nigel asked.
“Si!” Reynaldo expostulated.
“Sorry about the delay with your issue, man. It probably felt like eternity. Let me make it up to you. I’ve got search bars open. Shoot.”
“Shoot?”
“Yeah. Like...start firing details. You want to find your mate, don’t you? I mean, we’ve done this before. It’s not that hard. I just need a description. Last known location. Stuff like that.”
“How much time do I have?”
“That does not sound fortuitous,” Akron inserted.
“I could probably handle this, Sir. You can go back to...whatever it is you’re doing.”
“I thought you knew me better, Nigel.”
“Sir?”
“I have lived an eternity of sameness, Nigel. On occasion, curiosity takes the edge from that. And I have to admit...I am very curious at the moment.”
“Okay. Well then, in answer to your question, Reynaldo, we’re on a satellite link. And we’re flying...which should make us impossible to track. Then again, I had the same impression about our former headquarters transmission capabilities, and look where that got us.”
“Pardon?” Reynaldo asked.
“Oh. Sorry. I’m starting to wander around with facts like Akron does. You want bottom line? You got two minutes. I’m not risking more.”
“Two minutes!”
“I can call you back if needed.”
“Oh. All right then. What do you want again?”
“Let’s start with description. Approximate height. Weight. Coloring. Any foreign accent? You know, stuff like that.”
“Unknown,” Reynaldo replied.
“Unknown? Okay. We’ve had to track down mates with less. How about last known location? And maybe a time?”
“Chateau Boreonne. Last evening.”
“You’re in France, then?”
“Si.”
“Wow. Headlines already. A masquerade ball was held at the chateau last night. Huge turn-out. Lots of press. But the real news is the balcony collapse. Eight dead. Dozens injured. They’re asking for anyone with information on attendees to come forward. Oh. Looks like they even lost an ambulance. And the crew. As well as the injured man they were transporting.”
“Do tell,” Reynaldo said with a flat tone.
“That couldn’t have been you. The guy was described as wearing all black, and everyone knows you favor loud vivid—wait. Here’s the long blond hair. So. It was you in the ambulance. That was a risky move, don’t you think?”
“I was not thinking at the time, but it is unimportant. They will never find the vehicle, while the crew? It was dark. I was provoked beyond reason. One of them even tried to stick needles in me! Let me just say...should they be located...they will not remember much.”
“Fair enough. I guess. But crap. This is going to be tough. Do you know how many people were there?”
“No.”
“According to the article there were hundreds of invitations. Some of those folks probably brought a ‘plus one’. And that doesn’t include all the others. You know; the gate crashers. Security. Wait staff. Caterers. Musicians. Anything jump out at you?”
“There was a cellist.”
“Okay. This just got a lot easier.”
“I am not saying it is her.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. I mean, no. I mean yes, I am certain I cannot say.”
“Is that because she was masked?”
The cellist was not masked.”
“So, it was her?”
“I told you I cannot say.”
“Are we talking in circles, or does it just sound that way?”
“Circles,” Akron responded.
“Okay. I’ll clarify. Reynaldo? I’m asking if the reason you cannot describe a mate is because she was masked.”
“Oh. No.”
“Then why? You didn’t have enough time before the balcony collapsed onto you? And then you had to pretend to be humanly hurt so as to not arouse suspicion? And then what? She was gone when you returned?”
“No.”
“What part is wrong?”
“It was a fat woman wearing a crucifix.”
“That is not a nice way to describe your mate.”
Akron sounded like he snorted. Reynaldo slid off the stool, flung his free hand up. Started pacing as he spoke. “I am not describing my mate! I am describing the woman who assaulted me once I fell with the balcony.”
“Okay. So your mate is not a fat woman wearing a cross. Got it.”
“Exactly. No. I mean, wait. It could be.”
“What could be?”
“My mate.”
“You sure you have one? I mean—?”
“Stronzo! I am breathing! My heart is beating. And I’m getting angered again.”
“I’m checking translation...and you just called me asshole. How nice. Maybe you could help by giving me something to go on?”
Reynaldo’s hand tightened on the phone. He spoke between set teeth. “It started with the gent in the bloomers.”
“Gent? Your mate is a male? Wow. This is just...uh. Wow.”
“No. I mean. I do not know. It could be.”
“You can’t tell? Must be a real looker.”
Nigel may have been speaking beneath his breath but it was useless. The cell phone vibrated with what could be Akron’s chuckling. Reynaldo swiveled at the far wall, grinding bits of the cell phone he’d earlier flung beneath his shoes.
“Coglione!”
“I’m looking that up, too. And...great. You’ve been calling me a moron.”
“This is not helpful! We are just wasting time!”
“I’m doing the best I can here. I can’t even use proximity, since air flight could get potentially anyone in the world to that party. Can you narrow it down at all?”
“I do not know who my mate is. If it is a her. Or a him. Or even an it!”
“An it? Man. I wish it was a hermaphrodite. At least I could find that kind of person. Do you think it possible? I mean...no. It’s not. Although I have to say...if that mating card did get dealt to an associate, it would be you, Reynaldo.”
“You are a complete—!”
“No more name calling, okay? I’m going with the cellist. Gut instinct. Oh. Look. Her name is Simone Ryan. Interesting. She lives in a flat in Paris with several roommates of variable sexes, but with the rent there, that’s probably normal.”
“Send her an invitation, Nigel,” Akron spoke up.
“To where?”
“Moroseni’s chateau, of course.”
Reynaldo stopped pacing. His heart stalled. His breath was right behind it. Was it possible?
“What’s the cover story?”
“Recital. Tutelage. Tea and crumpets. Doesn’t matter. Make something up.”
“She’s a single female. Early thirties. Couple of degrees. One in art history, the other is...chemistry? What the—? Where is the music one?”
“I believe you will find that individuals blessed with creative talents usually possess it in more than one discipline, Nigel. Sometimes they have an aptitude in many fields. Hence the term Renaissance man – or woman, as the case may be.”
“All right. I’ll bite. Miss Simone is an artist. A musician. And a chemist. She sounds brainy. I doubt she’ll go off to a hidden palace in the countryside. By herself, anyway. I think I should invite others.”
“That would defeat the purpose, Nigel. I’m certain Reynaldo wants her alone.”
“Yes. Yes. I do,” Reynaldo exclaimed.
“How should I word this thing, then?” Nigel asked.
“That won’t matter, my boy. What matters is the messenger you send.”
“What?”
“Leaders don’t need to be the best at something, Nigel. They only need to know who is, and utilize them.”
“I’m not tracking, Sir. Come again?” Nigel asked. Reynaldo almost voiced his confusion, as well. He was just as mystified.
“Assign this to someone with superior mesmeric capabilities and the ability to be out in daylight.”
“That’s a tough one, Sir. Most associates are en-route to safe zones. And nobody comes to mind. Who do you recommend?”
Akron sighed heavily. The cell phone speaker whined painfully. Reynaldo pulled it several inches from his ear.
“Sir?” Nigel asked.
“I am your candidate, Nigel.”
“Oh. Well...yeah. But you—? I mean...uh. Are you saying you wouldn’t mind delivering a message in Paris today?”
“Oh. Trust me, Nigel. It would be my pleasure.”