Chapter Seventeen
Ambrose was in the Catskills.
So damn close. This whole time. Him and half his fucking clan, Liam thought as he looked down on the site from a nest, similar to the one they had found, high in the trees at a reasonably good position to view a great deal of Ambrose’s compound.
“Well, we could always call the local authorities and rat him out,” Kellen suggested. “Technically, he’s not supposed to be off the reservation.”
“Neither is she,” Liam pointed out dryly, cocking his head at Devon. “Anyway it’s a gray area. They never punish runaways, just send them back to their own Cities. He’s guilty of far more than a simple straying charge.”
“Human law isn’t going to apply here,” Devon said softly, narrowing her eyes on the activity around the main house.
It was a huge, corner masterpiece, guaranteed to have every bell and whistle money could buy and all the comforts imaginable.
Also all the best security. Technology aside, though, Ambrose had a huge crowd of Morphates constantly moving in and out of the main house and huddling around three of the smaller houses on the property.
The compound was just about as hard to get to as Devon’s property was.
“Ambrose has to be made to answer to Morphate law,” she continued.
“Which he broke the minute he seceded from the Alpha Council. It’s also the only thing we have proof of.
The only thing that can have him deposed as Alpha of Dark Phoenix and thrown in an Alpha Council Penitentiary.
Everything else, the attempts on my life, the attempts to gain the mercury weaponry for himself, his crimes against Morphates and humans …
we have no proof of them. He’s made sure of that. He’s always made sure of that.”
“Why don’t we just cloud this guy,” Kellen asked irritably.
“You just answered your own question,” Liam said. “Because he’d go up in smoke and be forgotten in a second. Or be a martyr forever.”
“The last thing we need is a Morphate civil war with the memory of Ambrose at its core,” Devon said bitterly.
“But to imprison him and make an example of him, to show other Morphates that his behavior will not be tolerated, that is what is needed. Between his capture and handing over my mercury weapons to humans, we can drastically change the playing field. It will bring others in line very quickly. The Morphates can pursue their rights the way our human ancestors did it. The way women did it. Legally. Politically.”
“Christ,” Kellen hissed. “You have a lot of faith in humans. That they won’t just turn on you and start putting the whole lot of you down one by one. We have plenty of examples of that in our history too, you know.”
“I know,” she said softly.
Devon left it at that. They didn’t need to talk about just how big a risk she was taking.
But she wasn’t the one who had started this journey.
Kincaid Gregory had started it nearly fifty years ago when he had anticipated the trouble Morphates like Ambrose would cause.
And with the newer generations of Morphates becoming stranger and more powerful, it was best they had some way to control them.
“So what’s the plan, boss?” Kellen asked, looking through his glasses and watching the way the Morphates moved, looking for patterns that would indicate security teams, routines, and shifts.
Liam looked at Devon.
“What’s the plan, Devona Chandler?” he asked her softly.
“Well, I was kind of thinking of knocking on the front door.”
“Ambrose, you are not going to believe this,” Max blurted out as he burst into the main parlor.
Ambrose slid a venomous look at the new generation Morphate and wondered to himself why he insisted on surrounding himself with these impulsive, uncontrollable children.
Bad enough his final assassin had not checked in for over twenty-four hours.
He’d rather expected Rhiannon would fuck up.
Had almost counted on it, really. He’d hoped her attack would make Devona flee in panic.
After all, having an attacker make it all the way into the bedroom was bound to shake her confidence in the security and safety of her property.
Knee-jerk reaction, especially when protecting a precious payload like Devona was protecting, would be to relocate to a place deemed safer.
Out of reach. Different. It would have provided him the perfect opportunity to attack her in force once and for all.
A caravan was always weaker than a fixed position.
He would have achieved all his goals at once: killing the traitor and acquiring the weapons for himself.
But Devona had not budged. Had barely blinked.
She had stayed snuggled into her home with her pathetic human security force.
What a joke. That something so weak and so fallible could ever stand up to a superior Morphate.
Superior in intelligence, superior in strength, and superior in longevity. In a word: perfect. They were perfect.
“Do surprise me,” Ambrose invited the young Morphate darkly, making it very clear that he was thoroughly annoyed.
“Devona Chandler is at the gate requesting an audience!” Max veritably overflowed with the news. And why not? He was right. No one would have believed him.
Ambrose sat up straight, his spine growing long and his shoulders squaring as a sensation of utter delight swam through him. He shifted his gaze to the man seated in the chair across from him.
“Well. What do you make of that?” he asked.
“Hubris,” was the reply. “She’s no doubt going to try and negotiate with you the way she has tried negotiating with all the other Alphas on the Council. After all, she has no reason to think you have been the one trying to end her life. You’ve left no proof. No trail.”
“It’s one of my most sterling talents,” Ambrose agreed with a pleased smile. “How exciting. Now I don’t have to kill her. I can lock the bitch up and dissect her twice a day for the rest of eternity.” Ambrose sighed with pleasure at the thought.
“I rather like the idea,” his companion agreed. “The possibilities are endless, if you don’t mind sharing access.”
Ambrose quickly frowned, then just as quickly shrugged off the covetous craving that caused it. What did it matter who did the poking and prodding? As long as he got to watch it.
“But I am forced to wonder how she knew I was here. Like her, I am using a human persona for my holdings here. I have no choice.” His tone was dripping with contempt at being forced to sneak past human laws.
But soon that wouldn’t matter. Soon humans would learn what it felt like to be lorded over and treated like second-class citizens.
A plan that would be ruined if Devona succeeded in handing over her mercury weaponry.
No. It would not do at all if the insects suddenly became venomous.
“She is a brilliant woman and no less resourceful than you are,” the other man pointed out. “I doubt it took much work for her to find you.”
“She only thinks she is clever,” Ambrose bit out. “She’s about to learn what a truly superior mind is capable of. Bring her here,” he commanded of Max. “And someone get me Tansy and Jacan.”
Devona’s heart was pounding at a speed that ought to have killed her, had she not been immortal.
She walked up to the house, flanked on either side by Ambrose’s Morphates.
She wondered how this was going to play out.
Wondered if she was just plain crazy for attempting this.
Liam had only gone along with her plan after she’d agreed to three ground rules: she’d been fitted with a radio comm to be left entirely open the whole time, they had waited for dark to fall, and his teams were already infiltrating the property.
They had moved past the cameras, tricked the motion and heat sensors, and snuck in quite close to the house from all different directions.
She had made certain they were armed to the hilt with mercury weapons.
The rest was up to their stellar training and the man who led them.
As expected, her arrival caused something of a spectacle.
News had flown through the compound about who Ambrose’s guest was.
She was being stared at from all quarters.
Morphates were trying to be discreet and failing miserably as they gravitated toward the front porch to get a look at her.
That was very much a part of her plan. To draw them all in.
The fewer Morphates they needed to corral, the better.
It was best Ambrose’s people got a very good look at what was about to happen.
Ambrose was standing in the center of the parlor she was led to.
There were other Morphates around, some sitting in chairs, some lounging at a nearby bar.
One in particular was a tall, stunning black woman not three feet to his right rear.
To his rear left was a very strong and intimidating male in a leather vest with a smaller but tough looking female right at his side.
“Greetings, Devona. Welcome to my home.”
Oh, how smug he seemed, Devona thought as she swallowed back a swell of bile in her throat.
He was just so confident of his superiority.
He had tried to annihilate her in half a dozen or more different ways, and yet he stood there greeting her as if she were the closest of friends.
She had wondered, as she had met with the other Alphas and their lieutenants, time and again, “Is this who wants me dead?” And now, here she was standing in front of him, knowing for certain it was Ambrose, and she honestly couldn’t tell herself whether she would have been able to discern the truth from his congenial demeanor as he stepped forward and extended his hand.
She wasn’t stupid enough to take it.
She smiled to cover her rebuff.
“Ambrose. Thank you for seeing me without announcement. I know it’s terribly rude of me.”