Chapter Four
Sergio Procella had been brought in, looking far less confident than he had the night before. Felix had finished up with Hugo and arrived right after Rowan and Genevieve had gone in.
“Here’s how this will go. You,” she pointed at Felix, “know the score. Don’t make me have to repeat myself about your place in this process. Because I won’t. Instead, I’ll have you removed. Are we clear?”
Felix clearly didn’t like what she was saying, but he nodded his agreement.
“And you,” she pointed at Sergio, knowing how rude he’d find it, “will answer my questions truthfully. If you plan to keep wasting time by not answering questions, this will end, and you’ll still be in jail. Nothing you do outside telling me what I ask you to will free you from this predicament. We can have a conversation, or you can fuck off back to your cell.”
The patriarch of the Procella family wasn’t as smart as his attorney. “You can’t keep me here.”
Rowan leaned over and slapped his face three times in quick succession, leaving a red mark and a crack in his composure. A crack she’d wedge open until he split and spilled all his secrets.
“If that were true, you’d be at your club complaining about the temperature of your lunch or whatever rich people get up to all day. If that were true, you’d have scurried out the door after I slapped your face just now. Or attempted in any way to defend yourself. So. Let’s focus on what’s true, shall we? A week ago, Sergio, you got in contact with the Weres who do your dirty work. You very cheekily put a hit on my life,” Rowan said.
Sergio’s mouth dropped open and Rowan wished she’d have slapped him two more times for being such a dick. How could he be surprised she’d have figured it out?
“There’s more,” she said.
“Lies!” Sergio yelled. “You’re making this up to frame me and my family.”
Genevieve took up next. “And then , Hugo called them back and pushed up the deadline. Moreover, he told them to make it hurt, even if it had to be public. Which of course it was, as you along with a few million others watched numerous video clips filmed as the attack happened in real time.”
Rowan indicated the room they were in. “So here we all sit. The problem is, Sergio, you have more money and influence than sense. Never a winning proposition in the long run. Money isn’t that hard to come by, especially if you don’t care about legality. Power though? You earn it and if you fuck it up, getting it back is a whole different story.” She would spend a few hours every fucking day until the sun burnt out to keep him from ever achieving real power again.
“You have no proof of any of this,” Sergio said less confidently. “You don’t look that bad off to me.”
While she didn’t break eye contact with Sergio, Rowan recounted, “Well, here’s the thing. I do have proof. Because you have more entitlement than sense, you paid your werewolf hitmen with fake money. I’ve seen your fucking mansion. Half a million dollars wouldn’t have broken your backs. And for what? You didn’t think they’d notice after the spell wore off and they had a bunch of paper instead of US legal tender? Greedy and shortsighted. Especially when you were already being looked at by the Conclave and Hunter Corp.”
She shrugged and then shared a look with Genevieve like, can you believe the nerve of this guy?
“So now you’ve gone and pissed off the shifters who do your dirty work and have so much evidence against you. If you’d paid them fairly, their masters back in Seattle wouldn’t come after you. They’d go about their business because there’s inherent risk being a hit man. Like being caught up and taken into custody. And then questioned. We found the ones who’d escaped and took those Weres too. None of them wanted to roll on you until they realized you’d double-crossed them. Now? Multiple parties have identified you and Hugo as the people they received orders from. I have the paper that was spelled to look like money and the duffel bags it was delivered in. Hugo’s magical signature is all over the paper, but the duffel bags, well, I’m told they have your magic on them. Your life is so complicated right now.” Rowan sent him a sunny smile.
“That certainly does seem like a lot of proof,” Genevieve agreed. “I’m the one who was able to verify your magic on the duffel bags. I found several of that same brand and type in your home office along with some very illegal spells.”
“This interview is over,” Sergio said, voice shaky as he shot to his feet.
Rowan stood, slamming Sergio back into the chair. “I didn’t give you permission to move, old man. David, please bring me the restraints,” she said, knowing her valet was listening in the other room, awaiting any orders.
“Don’t touch me!” Sergio shouted.
Felix bent to speak to him in soothing tone, so Rowan leaned over, flicked the tip of Sergio’s nose, and said, “ Boop. You’re not done, Sergio.”
“You can’t do this. This is medieval,” Sergio gasped out.
Rowan and Genevieve both laughed at that.
Rowan said, “That medieval stuff is unwieldy. Have you ever seen an iron maiden? They’re huge and heavy. Where would I even keep one?”
Genevieve nodded. “Fortunately, we have lightweight materials now that are stronger or just as strong as iron. Implements that are mobile. Techniques that target the softest inner bits like memories and emotions. They take up less cleanup after use, and are far more brutal.” She discussed it like she was talking about what sort of rosebush she was considering planting. So breezy and mundane it was rendered terrifying.
“Ah, David. Thank you,” Rowan told him as he came in.
Sergio stood and put an arm out to shove Rowan from the way. Instead, she sidestepped—he’d pay for the twinge in her leg as she did—and then gave him two hard shots to his kidneys that sent him back down.
“Here I am yet again, dealing with a man who thinks with his ego instead of his brain.” Rowan put a hand at her hip. “I’ve mcfucking had it with you. Try me again and see.” She pointed again and then shackled his leg to the rung in the floor designed for that very thing.
“Do something!” Sergio barked to Felix, who leaned in and attempted to quietly rein his client in, reminding him of what was going on.
Naturally, Sergio wasn’t used to being reined in, so he reared back, disgust on his face, and turned to Rowan yet again.
“This is an outrage. I’m a citizen of the United States. I demand to be freed.” Sergio’s breathing sped and his pupils were way larger than they’d been earlier.
Finally , the elder Procella seemed to sense the depth of trouble he was in.
Genevieve said in her snootiest tones, “What nation or state you reside in is meaningless. You are a Genetic witch. As such you are governed by the Conclave. To attempt to claim protection from humans would involve them in our business. Which is a crime punishable by death. As this is something you’ve already been found guilty of, you might want to avoid trying that again.”
Sergio’s mouth closed with a snap.
Rowan withheld a snort of appreciation for the way that was all delivered. Sergio was sweating again. Felix looked tired. She almost felt bad for him. Then again, his client tried to have her murdered. So there was that.
Genevieve had occupied every inch of her position. A Senator. One of their most powerful elders. An Aubert. Rowan would sit quietly and let that disturb Sergio while a witch handled witch business.
“Hiring wolf shifters is not against the rules. Many witches do this for a variety of reasons. We don’t even care about the mildly illegal ones. But this isn’t mildly illegal at all. You, a Genetic witch, have contracted with the Shank family—who in our files are designated a crime syndicate—to murder the Hunter Rowan Summerwaite. With explicit instructions to make it public. Violating several of our most sacrosanct laws. You’re in a great deal of difficulty,” Genevieve said and while her expression was mock sadness, her tone held zero.
“I will not be interviewed with her in the room,” Sergio said.
Ignoring him entirely, Genevieve turned her attention to Felix. “A guard will escort you to your vehicle. Sergio will remain here until further notice. Along with Hugo. Their magic will be nullified, and they will be kept in cells that have been altered to make certain no magic other than that of a few recognized witches will be cast. You have been found guilty of the crimes previously mentioned, but a full investigation into the scope of your actions is in process. Should that investigation find more deviations from our law, charges will be added.”
Sergio attempted to stand, but he was still shackled to the floor, so he didn’t get far. Red faced, he yelled about being outraged, yadda yadda.
“Understand you won’t leave this building, even if you work yourself into a stroke.” Rowan shrugged. “Throw your fit, but you’ll still be in custody. The more cooperative you are, the less harsh that sentence will be. If you want to talk about things pertinent to this situation, you can let a guard know. At some point we’ll be back. You’re on my schedule now, Sergio. And it’s your fault I’m so busy.”
“Let me talk to him,” Felix requested.
Rowan gathered her things one-armed, and headed to the door. “No. I have the wolves in custody too. I’ve got the fake money and the duffel. I’ve got your ass, Sergio. And I’m serving it—and your family—up to the Conclave on a pretty platter. Whether or not you explain to help us understand why you did these things, you’re fucked, and it couldn’t happen to a more deserving person.”
She walked out to the hall, staring at Felix until he assured Sergio he’d be doing all he could before he scurried around the Conclave guard, one of Konrad’s personal team. The strawberry blond Vampire who materialized to move Sergio—still yelling—to a cell was someone who’d been in Clive’s service for two centuries. She kept her expression utterly blank—Vampires were so good at that—as she hauled the witch out of the interview room and toward the specially prepared cell, Konrad’s guard leading the way.
Genevieve said to Felix, “Get in contact with Alfonso. Tell him to get himself back here to Vegas.”
“I don’t know where he is. But,” he added quickly, “I will get word as far as I can to those who might. Are there still charges against him?”
“That remains to be seen. How can we know if he keeps running away?” Genevieve asked in a silky purr full of violence Rowan approved of greatly. She wasn’t going to tell Felix much because they couldn’t trust him.
He looked like he was going to argue a moment but remembered himself in time. Point to him. “What of Antonia? Hugo has been found. You were holding her for a reason that no longer exists.”
“Antonia, much like her father, has obstructed our investigation. But you do correctly point out Hugo has been arrested.” Rowan didn’t say anything else. She didn’t want Felix telling anyone they had plans to search the Procella mansion. And until that happened, Antonia was staying her ass right where she was.
“Can she at least have her magic back until her fate is decided?” Felix tried again.
Rowan couldn’t fault the guy. He was doing his job the best he could, even in the face of absolute loss.
Genevieve’s nose wrinkled a moment as she processed the question. “No. Yours will return once you leave here. The spell in place prevents you from revealing the location of anyone in custody. If you even think about telling anyone, I’ll know. You won’t like the result.”
“I’m attempting to represent my clients—my family—the best I can.”
Genevieve straightened her spine and looked down her nose at the other witch. Power seemed to flow from her in wave after wave. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking anything you or the Procellas have or are connected to can get in the way of my duty.” When she paused, threads of Dust Devil magic began to flicker all around her, threading through her own. It locked together like chain mail, adamantine.
So. Fucking. Cool.
Genevieve’s kill shot was, “There will be no further appeals to human legal structures. I will execute him myself if he exposes us to humans. If you’re involved, I’ll execute you as well.”
Oooh. Genevieve was being scary. Rowan loved it.
Felix remained quiet. He must have sensed Genevieve was at the very end of her patience.
“We are not humans. We are the Conclave.” Genevieve’s magic swirled around her, mimicking dust devils in the wild. “I am beyond your petty powers and potions. Go and tell them, Felix. They can know and their choice after that will be on their shoulders.”
Rowan had been watching the interchange, knowing Genevieve was the best person to deliver the scary witch stuff.
When it was appropriate and Felix had clearly understood the message, Rowan said, “Bess Procella has been interviewed in Auckland, and taken into custody. You could have told us, any of you really, that she was on some swanky ten-month-long world cruise and saved us time. Funny how you all just said she was on a work trip, but you didn’t know exactly where. But we found out anyway. If you take nothing else away here, know to your core, I will always find out, Felix.”
“I assure you, it was not a plan to hide her. She wasn’t here during any of this. It didn’t involve her in any way. And no one asked me directly.”
Rowan sneered. “That’s the definition of a plan, fucko. You know a thing is coming up and you decide how you’ll react. To control the flow of information to what you want. And you were asked where she was. All of you were.”
“She was in the middle of the ocean. I didn’t know exactly where. That much is true,” he insisted.
Rowan shook her head, disgusted. “This verbal loaf of absolute nonsense might fly with humans, or other dumbassed witches like you, but I’m not human or a dumbass.”
“She didn’t know of the arrests. No one has been in contact with her.”
Which she doubted, though Bess had denied any knowledge during her interview. Rowan was very cruise averse, but even she knew they had internet and ways to communicate with the mainland. There was no way a bunch of rich people who could afford some swanky, nearly yearlong cruise would tolerate being inconvenienced by not being able to contact their brokers or whoever back home.
Hunter Corp. and the Conclave would find out anyway, because all her electronics had been confiscated, and there was currently a major search through the ship’s systems for all incoming and outgoing communications.
Not that she was going to tell Felix. He must have known they’d look. Maybe he, like his family, thought everyone else was too stupid to find all the clues they’d dropped.
“Is this a tour run by the Procella family business?” she asked. Might as well use his fear and guilt to see what he’d say. And compare it with what Bess herself had claimed.
“Not directly. But the family is working on some collaborations with the company that she’s cruising with currently,” Felix answered carefully. “We like to have an understanding of each new venue before we decide to take on any business dealings with them.”
“Tell me something, Felix,” Rowan urged. “Next in line for the business. Who do you think Sergio will choose? Not who wants to be chosen most. Don’t waste my time with that. You’re their lawyer and some third cousin so you see inside with a unique perspective. You’re not giving away state secrets or anything. It’s a way to cooperate.”
“It’s not Hugo at all, is it?” Genevieve said quietly.
“One might argue Bess is ideally situated to take over. The company began with her family back in England in the sixteenth century,” Felix said instead of directly answering that last question.
“Armbruster?” Genevieve used the name of the family line Bess had come from.
“Back then they were the Clares. Then Armbrusters married in.”
Genevieve made no major outward indication of how she felt about that revelation, but Rowan noted the slightest narrowing of her friend’s gaze.
“Get me the information about those contacts as soon as possible,” Genevieve said with so much finality Felix shut his mouth and nodded his agreement before scurrying off.
Rowan gave her a sideways look. Something had been revealed and she wasn’t entirely sure but it seemed to have come from that tidbit about Bess and her family.
“I think we leave off seeing Antonia tonight altogether,” Rowan said quietly. “She’ll still try you with all that big-eyed I didn’t know bullshit. These families are as bad as Vampire families. Just know that.”
“As it pertains to the Procellas, I totally agree.” Genevieve laughed prettily and slung her arm around Rowan’s shoulder a moment. “Hold,” she murmured and then a shimmering wall popped into place. “Now, your husband will be annoyed he cannot spy. We should talk about this connection Bess has. It could be nothing, but the Clares have come up in another matter. They’re one of the families my team has been quietly investigating. I’m not sure how we missed that link. I’m rather annoyed by that so once I leave here, I need to speak to my team and to Konrad. He’ll have heard that bit with Felix in the hall and made the same connection I did.”
“All right. I’ll wager David has done the same thing. Hopefully he’s working with Konrad, but I get that your dad will take more time to come to fully trust me and Hunter Corp. the longer we work more closely together.”
“He’s coming around. He recognizes your nobility. Your honor and power. I will share what I find, regardless. You might see something I don’t.”