Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Corrie!”
Even though ninety-five years had passed, Aunt Corrie was not much older than Evelyn remembered her being; the auburn in her hair was threaded through with icy gray strands, the perpetual stress lines between her eyes deeper.
The familiar smell of her soap, amber and rose petals, were a balm to Evelyn’s frazzled nerves.
The calming influence helped her come back to reality.
Galactic standard health screenings had prolonged human life well past the century mark, but one tended to look the part when one was over a hundred years of age.
Enough time spent in stasis would have kept Aunt Corrie from aging just at it had Evelyn, but it was clear to her that Corrie hadn’t spent the majority of the last century in her own pod.
She looked closer to sixty than one hundred and sixty.
Corrie set this all up.
She stepped back and glanced at the crew, cringing when she realized she’d completely ignored Nannette’s admonitions to stand behind her.
She and Aiden both had blasters in their hands, pointed at the floor.
The look in Aiden’s eyes was furious enough to melt glass.
Lillian had a firm hand on Elenor’s shoulder, murmuring something soothing in her wife’s ear.
Evelyn turned back to Corrie and saw her wince under the weight of Aiden’s glare.
“What the fuck, Corrie? What is going on?” Evelyn asked. She crossed her arms over her chest and did her best to prevent herself from shaking, unsure if it was the shock at seeing her aunt or the cold.
“Corrie?” Aiden asked with a frown. “Is that what we should be calling you? Not Vinnie?” He took a few steps closer to Evelyn. She appreciated the silent show of support and shot him a brief smile.
“Oh, I’ll answer to anything. I’ve grown used to being Vinnie, but my true name is Corvinia Moreau.” She adjusted her tie. “Why don’t we sit? This is going to take a while.”
Evelyn stomped to the plush gray sofa and took the seat nearest the arm.
She folded her legs up to rest her chin on her knees and hugged her legs close.
Aiden perched on the arm next to her. It warmed some of the freezing chill Evelyn was battling off to know he felt so protective.
Nannette sat next to Evelyn on the sofa, and she heard her mutter something into her comm under her breath.
Probably telling the others not to rush; we’re not being shot.
Lillian and Elenor took the loveseat, leaving Corvinia to sit in the battered green leather armchair.
Evelyn watched her cross her legs and settle herself.
“Tea? Water?”
“Stop stalling, Corrie,” Evelyn said. She was used to watching Corvinia delay with pleasantries, but now was not the time.
Corvinia sighed. “I’ve grown unaccustomed to plain speaking, darling. You’ve been gone too long, and I’ve been too mired in bullshit.”
Nannette snorted. “That’s politics for you.”
“But she’s not a politician. Corrie’s an actor. Minister of Arts and Culture. At least, you were,” Evelyn said, turning her head. “What happened?”
“What happened is the plan went to shit.”
“Funnily enough, I did sort that out myself.” Understatement of the century.
“Things chugged along as you’d negotiated for almost a year. What none of us realized was that behind the scenes, Emil had an entirely different framework planned out.”
Evelyn heard the door softly swing open behind her, and at the noise, Corvinia tensed, reaching her hand toward her pocket. Lillian’s view of the door was clear, and she gave a quick wave down the hallway. Aiden was stock still beside her, maintaining his glare.
This may be the most impressive case of resting bitch face I’ve ever seen.
Veronique, Tariel, and Veselko streamed into the room. Veronique was holding a takeout cup with a clear dome threatening to overflow with whipped cream. She popped a straw into it and handed it to Evelyn.
“Thought you might need this.”
Evelyn arched an eyebrow. “Is this a milkshake?”
“It’s medicinal.”
Evelyn shot her a bemused grin. “Do you solve every problem with sugar?”
“Only the ones that can’t be solved with sex.”
Evelyn snorted and took a sip of the drink. She nearly choked when the liquor hit her mouth, Irish cream and vodka laced the smooth creamy drink. She arched an eyebrow at Veronique.
“It’s Vegas,” she said with a shrug. “It would have been harder to find a milkshake without booze in it.”
Veronique plopped down on the floor in front of Evelyn, a seductive guard dog sprawled at her feet.
Tariel took the last sofa spot, his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle.
Veselko lounged against the wall and started playing with the folding knife he perpetually kept in his pocket.
Evelyn’s emotions threatened to overwhelm her.
It had been one thing to know the crew had wanted her to be safe physically during the meeting with the mysterious Vinnie.
But ensuring her emotional safety was as safeguarded as possible as well was too much.
Evelyn didn’t deserve this. Aiden’s hand came to rest on her shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze of reassurance.
Corvinia took it all in silently. Evelyn was well acquainted with the quality of her poker face. There was a slight flash of satisfaction in her eyes that Evelyn wasn’t sure she liked, but she wanted answers more than to call her aunt on it for the moment.
“As I said, most of the first year went as well as could be expected. The overt military threats stopped, the raiders cooled off once protection was back in place. We started to rebuild. The progress reports they sent regarding your physical health were satisfactory. Then, your father received the first photo. You were in your pod, and there was a hand holding a knife to your throat.”
Evelyn’s eyes bugged open. “Say that again?”
“A knife. To your throat. You and your father expected Emil to adhere to your agreement like a gentleman. He’s not, and never has been. He’s a ruthless dictator who knew exactly what he had: the ultimate bargaining chip. He knew your father would give him everything he wanted to keep you safe.”
Evelyn let out a huge sigh, the air blowing her hair around her face. “Well, shit. I’m glad I slept through that.” She took a pull of the milkshake. “So I really did just deliver myself off to be a hostage. Go me.”
“The photo arrived without any demands. Just a picture. Then suggestions started to be made. Changes to policy. The implication being that as soon as your father stepped out of line, you’d have your throat slit.”
“Wasn’t this an illogical threat?” Tariel asked. “If Emil killed Evelyn, he’d be out of his Amplifier. He’d be back where he started, and no one else would volunteer.”
Corvinia nodded. “That’s exactly what I said to Hubert, but he wouldn’t be reasoned with. He feared that if Emil killed Evelyn, the next step would be to wage all out war on Tanalia, kidnap his entire line and extended family.”
“So Papa started implementing changes,” Evelyn said. Hubert Alpertti may have been consumed by the responsibilities of his office, but he had always loved his daughters.
“Yes. More and more people ‘conveniently’ moved off planet to assist with projects on Bauder,” Corvinia said, making little quotation fingers.
“Not to mention the ones that had suspicious accidents. Before we knew it, half our top scientists were gone. Bauder’s soldiers had a base built at the capital.
They started holding mixers at the university, trying to promote relationships with the hopes children with .
. . sensitivities would be the ultimate result. ”
Evelyn heard Nannette gulp at Corrie’s latest revelation. She reached out and gave her knee a gentle pat. She wasn’t sure why that specific tidbit had spooked the knife-wielding beauty, but everyone had baggage they were hauling through life.
“Your family started to be seen less and less in public. First your sisters and their spouses, then your mother and finally, your father. I couldn’t get a straight answer out of Hubert as to their whereabouts.
Then he stopped taking my communications.
I was barred entry from the palace, the summer house, brushed off as new security protocols. ”
At that, Evelyn frowned. “Papa would never not take your calls. You’re family.”
Corvinia sighed and uncrossed her legs, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. “I later discovered that they had all wound up in similar pods to the one you were being held in.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Her grip on the flimsy paper cup tightened, and she wanted to hurl her milkshake across the room. This was all her fault.
Aiden gingerly took the cup from her and placed it on the table.
“That’s exactly what I said when I tracked them down,” Corvinia said, holding out a hand in agreement.
“It was bad enough that your father let you go through with your initial plan, but that he folded like a cheap card table. Well. It was frustrating to say the least. Tanalia was completely being run by a shadow government.”
“What about the other ministers?” Veronique asked from her spot on the floor. “Didn’t anyone else notice their orders were coming from a suspicious source?”
“Eventually, yes. For a while they all thought I was paranoid. Part and parcel of my job. Eventually they either fell in line or were replaced.”
“Part and parcel? What does paranoia have to do with the arts?” Evelyn asked.
There was no need for Corvinia to worry about being replaced; worst-case scenario a dozen theaters would scoop her up to chair their programing committees.
Her title would give her job security as long as she wanted to work in the theatre, not to mention her reputation on the stage.
“The better question,” Veselko said, “is why was Hubert taking political advice from an arts minister? Long standing relationship or not, why heed your warnings? Why not a defense minister?”