The Eldritch Conspiracy

“Celia.” Bruno’s voice was gently chiding. I looked up and found I couldn’t look away. His gaze was intense, the flames at the backs of his eyes flaring. “I love you. I want you. And even if we don’t work out, I’m not going back. I’m not that person anymore. I bought this house for a reason. This is my home now.” He continued, speaking softly and with amazing intensity. “I like teaching. I’m good at it. Once I finish my doctorate and my course work, I’m going to apply for a university staff position. I’ll still make artifacts, but I’ll choose what to create and who to make them for.”



Wow. Part of me was shocked … and another part wasn’t. No, he hadn’t discussed any of this with me before. But I wasn’t upset about that. We aren’t engaged. We aren’t planning a future together. Not yet; maybe not ever. I’d been dating both Bruno and John Creede for a while and I would have had no right to bitch if he dated Angelina Bonetti or anybody else—even though I had to admit to myself that I wouldn’t like it.



Teaching at Bayview would be a really good fit for him. He’d hate the politics, but he’d be good at it. And if we did manage to work things out and become a “real couple,” well, he’d be right here. No more long distance.



“I’m happy for you. I think it’s a good idea.”



“But?”



I smiled at him a little sadly. “I feel like too much happened while I was out of town. Everything’s changed.”



A quick shrug. “You’re tough, Celia. And smart. You’ll catch up.”



I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure what to say.



He smiled and took my hand. “Come back to bed. Who knows, maybe we’ll even get some sleep.”



9



“I’m sorry,” I said as I extended my hand to the woman who had stood upon my entering the conference room. Helen Baker is a member of the Serenity Secret Service. She is tall, with chiseled features and a seriously buff body underneath the conservative black suit she was wearing with a dove gray blouse. The last time I’d seen her she’d had a buzz cut. Apparently she’d decided to let her blond hair grow out a bit; though it was still short, it was not as short, and it had been styled to look more feminine. She looked good, I thought.



Baker rose from the slight bow she’d given me and accepted my handshake. “There’s no need to apologize, Princess. You’re not late, I arrived early.” That was obvious. She’d had time to take over the conference room, setting up her computer and a projection screen. And I spotted several old-fashioned display boards leaning against the wall.



I realized Baker was still standing. Apparently she wouldn’t sit until I did. She was probably following royal etiquette. That was something I definitely needed to brush up on for my new assignment. I’d done a bit of research a couple of years ago, but it had been awhile. I’d forgotten most of it.



“Actually, I’m apologizing because…”—I paused for a second, searching for the right phrasing—“bringing me in makes it seem that you guys aren’t capable of doing your jobs. And that is not true.” I’d worked with Baker and other members of the Siren Secret Service before. They were efficient, well trained, and scary good. “I can’t imagine why I’d be needed.” I pulled out the chair directly across from her, turning it so that I would have a good view of the projection screen.



Baker smiled and took her seat. “But you are needed.” She reached into the padded laptop case on the table and withdrew a manila folder. “I’m a clairvoyant. I’ve seen it myself. There are no specifics. The people moving against us have used powerful black magic to shield their actions—demonic magics. You, Princess, have more experience fighting the demonic than anyone on our staff. You also have fought and executed at least ten vampires, even one übervamp. There has never been a vampire on Serenity, so none of our people has that experience. We’ve trained for it, but training and experience are two very different things. Don’t presume we’re insulted. I assure you, we’re not. We’re eager to learn your techniques.”



It was weird, hearing my last few years summed up so neatly. Baker made everything sound so matter-of-fact, but every one of those incidents had been terrifying, dangerous, and damn near fatal to me and lots of other people.



“So there’s no friction?”



Her expression grew rueful. “Not from me. But I can’t say that everyone on staff is thrilled. Especially since it’s been made clear that the queen wants us to protect you as well.”



“No.”



She raised her eyebrows but didn’t say anything.



“Say it to her as respectfully as you can, but no. If I’m going to do Adriana any good at all, I have to be able to do what is necessary. That means I have to take risks. I may have to throw myself in front of a bullet. I can’t do that if you guys are protecting me. It won’t work. And it puts your team in an untenable position. So, tell the queen that I refuse.”



“Refuse to be in the wedding party or refuse to be protected?”



I shrugged. “I’d prefer protected. But whichever is necessary.”



“She won’t like that.”



Probably not. But— “Queen Lopaka is a sensible ruler. She’ll see the logic.” And while she liked me, she loved her daughter. Protecting Adriana would be her primary concern.



“Very well, if you insist.” She gestured toward the screen. “Shall we get started?”



“Please.”



Baker’s briefing was fairly thorough, especially considering they didn’t know much about the Guardians of the Faith. They were a terrorist group that had started up about two years earlier, beginning with some anti-siren chatter on the Web. They hadn’t become really organized or vocal until King Dahlmar’s engagement to Adriana went public. Since then, they’d mobilized, taking credit for a number of smaller events before the plane crash and bombing of the shop where Adriana had bought her bridesmaids’ dresses. All of the Guardians’ propaganda was virulently anti-siren, and there were specific threats against Adriana, Queen Lopaka, and me. Their stated goal was to prevent the royal wedding at any cost.



I didn’t like the “any cost” part, because that put them on a fanatic list that only a few groups in the world could lay claim to. Worse, despite all of the Guardians’ activity, the siren and Rusland intelligence organizations had no names or locations for any members, and any leads tended to quickly peter out.



Baker turned to her laptop and began her next prepared presentation, on the wedding itself, complete with PowerPoint slides. Nice that the queen’s staff had embraced technology.



The ceremony on Serenity would be short and casual … and a security nightmare. In the distant past, sirens didn’t marry. They used the men they wanted for as long as they wanted and then compelled them to leave and never return. Girl children were kept and raised. Boys weren’t. But while change came slowly among the sirens, it did come. Marriages now existed, mostly as a promise to keep and support all children of the union. For the average siren and her husband, that meant posting an intent to marry in the newspaper and signing official papers in front of a local judge.



Adriana’s marriage on Serenity would be a bit more formal than that due to her rank, but not much. The day of the wedding had been declared a national holiday. Streets were being blocked off along the entire 2.3 mile route from the palace to the courthouse where the chief justice would be waiting. The route for the procession—by the bridal party, on foot, nice and slow. My head hurt just thinking about all the ways that could go wrong.



Afterward, there would be a private luau on the grounds of the royal compound, for which security would be a piece of cake by comparison. I’d already RSVP’d “no” because of the whole sunshine thing, but Baker informed me they’d changed the plans slightly to accommodate me by placing the wedding party under a canopy and keeping the entertainment and the cooking pit in the open. Baker and her superiors had decided not to discuss the change of plans in public, giving us an element of surprise.



The second ceremony, taking place two days later in Rusland, would be a traditional Orthodox Christian wedding ceremony. This would be a much more formal and elaborate affair, much like the royal wedding of the British prince a couple of years prior. The Siren Secret Service was cooperating with their Ruslandic counterparts on the details.



I glanced up at the wall clock. “I know there’s more, and I’ll need to go over it with you later, but we’re almost out of time. What’s on tap for today?”



Baker scowled, but couldn’t really argue. “Adriana flew the queen and the other two bridesmaids over from Serenity last night. They are guests at the Serenial Embassy. They’re scheduled to have breakfast until 8:30 with the ambassador and his wife. At 8:33, they’ll get in the limo and come here. They should arrive between 8:59 and 9:04 depending on traffic.” She glanced down, checking her notes.



“At approximately 9:58, you will arrive at the shop of designer Amelie Annette Bertrand. The shop has been closed to everyone except the princess and our people have made a thorough security sweep of the shop and the area around it. We will have guards posted at every exit and patrolling the neighborhood. At 11:45, the car will pick you up at the shop and take the group to Simone’s, where a private room has been reserved for lunch. The facilities have already been secured. At 1:15, the car will take you and the others to designer Angel Herrera’s showroom. Security measures will be identical to those at the Bertrand shop.”



I could tell from her narrative that security for the day was going to be tight. Good. I still didn’t know exactly where I fit in the scheme of things, how well the team would react to having me included. But there was only one way to find out.



“Do you mind if I have Dawna make me a copy of the itinerary while I go arm up?”



“Not necessary.” She reached into the laptop case and handed me a sheet of paper and a thumb drive. “I was afraid we wouldn’t have time to cover everything, so I took the liberty of putting it all on a flash drive for you.”