The Den of Shadows Quartet - Amelia Atwater-Rhodes [120]
They were still waiting.
Turquoise finally slipped away from the hall, stretching as she shouldered open the door to the bright outside.
A stranger, a young woman no more than twenty-five years old, was waiting for her. She held up her hands to show she was unarmed. “Turquoise Draka?” she inquired. Her voice was polished, the accent vaguely English.
Turquoise nodded cautiously Her eyes had adjusted to the sunlight now, and she sized up this woman. She looked fairly harm less, with brown hair pulled back in an elegant twist, and wearing a cream business suit over a chocolate-colored blouse. A leather folio leaned against the wall beside her.
However, the woman’s heels made no sound on the stone walk as she approached, and even in the mid-June heat, her face showed no hint of sweat. Turquoise trusted her ability to recognize a vampire on sight, but just because this woman was not a bloodsucker did not mean she was human.
“Ah, and here is Ravyn Aniketos,” the woman called, as Ravyn slipped tiredly through the door. Though she must still have been sunblind, Ravyn drew a dagger instantly upon hearing her name.
Ravyn and Turquoise exchanged a look, and a mental shrug passed between them. Although they were enemies at times, rivals for power always, they were both intelligent enough to put their differences aside if confronted by a threat. Vampire, witch, shape-shifter, or human, this woman didn’t stand a chance if her intentions were less than friendly.
“Something I can help you with?” Turquoise inquired warily.
“Yes. My name is Jillian Red.” The name had the sound of a pseudonym. Jillian extended her hand, but did not seem surprised when no one reached out to shake it. “I have been following your careers for about a year now. You both hold quite impressive ranks, and have shown a certain rancor toward a breed I am not too fond of myself.”
Bored already, Turquoise assumed the woman’s lengthy speech was just winding toward another job.
Ravyn had actually started to walk away. Turquoise debated doing the same, but was stopped by the woman’s next words.
“You both show a certain promise in your history, namely, some unpleasant experiences with the trade.”
Turquoise did not need to ask which trade. From the sudden tension that pulsed through Ravyn’s body as she turned back, she had understood the words just as well.
“And what do you know of our history?” Ravyn asked, voice silky as a black widow’s thread.
Jillian Red sighed. “You, Ravyn, first came to vampiric attention when you were fifteen, and were brought into the trade by a low-power mercenary named Jared. You were lucky enough to avoid the professional slave traders, but unlucky enough —”
Ravyn shook her head, sending silky cranberry hair shuddering about her shoulders. “This is unnecessary.”
“Unlucky enough,” Jillian continued, “to be in the midst of vampires who respected Jared’s claim of ownership and because of it would not come to your aid no matter how much they disapproved of his treatment of you.”
Ravyn was by this point visibly simmering, her frame so rigid Turquoise suspected bone and sinew would shatter if the hunter tried to move.
“Shortly after he acquired you, Jared was found dead,” Jillian finished, “and about a week after that, you entered Crimson.”
“What is the job?” Ravyn snapped.
“Shall we find someplace to sit and discuss the particulars?” Jillian suggested. “Even if you choose not to accept my offer, which I doubt, you will be well paid for your time.”
“Lead the way” Turquoise said, when Ravyn did not immediately speak. If this woman knew as much about Turquoise’s history as she did about Ravyn’s, that knowledge could make her inconvenient, if not dangerous. It would not hurt to learn what she wanted.
CHAPTER 2
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, they were