“Very well. Say goodbye to your precious husband.” She opened the office door and started to walk away. “Kill the man,” she said to Giovanni.
“Wait!”
Cassandra turned back, slowly, a brow raised, arms across her chest. She repeated, “Tell me what you know and I will spare his life.”
Kitsune knew this woman would kill Grant with less thought than she’d give to her dinner, but she had to buy time. She knew Nicholas and Mike would come, if they could. “How can I believe you?”
Cassandra eyed her, said coolly, “I don’t enjoy killing, but I’ve found it sometimes necessary. I am not a psychopath.” She lurched back. Why had she said it aloud? Saying the word made something deep inside her hot and eager. No, no, not eager. She wasn’t mad, she wasn’t. She remembered Drummond had called her crazy, remembered how she’d wanted to rip his heart out.
She got hold of herself. “Tell you what, you talk to me, tell me what they’re planning to do now, tell me what they know, and I’ll let your husband go and call in my own private doctor to see to you.”
Yeah, like that would ever happen. Kitsune looked directly into her eyes. “They are studying your private financials. They know about your broker, Rodgers, in Singapore, how he invests the money you make profiting from the storms you create. As for what they will do, I have no idea. How could I?”
Cassandra was shaking her head, she couldn’t believe it. How could they know about Landry Rodgers? If she’d had any doubts about destroying Washington, she had none now. She heard herself ask, “Do they know about my mother?” Where had that come from? She didn’t believe for an instant the FBI could find her mother.
“I know there’s an FBI agent in London right now, reading all St. Germaine’s notes from her second book on Appleton Kohath. Your great-great-whatever—the mastermind of all this, right?”
Cassandra kicked Kitsune in the ribs again. Kitsune held herself perfectly still, let the pain settle, accepting it, dealing with it. At least she hadn’t broken a rib with that kick. The Wellies weren’t hard enough.
Cassandra closed her eyes a moment, cursed. How had they found out about that bloody biographer? She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Drummond and Caine think it does.”
&n
bsp; Cassandra tapped her fingers along the desk. “Do you know my idiot father gave that woman my great-great-grandfather’s journal? When the original biography came, he read it, saw he wasn’t in it, and so he went back to St. Germaine and gave her our private papers, the sick, vengeful bastard. He was so excited someone was going to write about his contributions, his achievements, but what he really wanted was cash and fame. He even called himself the Kohath heir.
“You want to talk about crazy? My worthless immoral father is certifiable. When we heard what he did—” She broke off, panting now, rage pouring through her. This time she banged her fist into one of the file cabinets. It had to hurt, but she didn’t seem to notice. “I’m glad he’s dead, and now Ajax and I won’t ever have to worry about what he’ll say, never have to see his face again, hear his whining voice. Who could blame us for kicking him out of Genesis? Who could blame us for taking care of him?”
Kitsune didn’t move, watched Cassandra Kohath spin out of control. The woman was shaking now, pacing the small space, hitting her fist against her palm. “If only my mother hadn’t trusted him, if only she hadn’t given him access to the Kohath papers! And look at what he did! He betrayed our family, he betrayed my mother!”
Suddenly, Cassandra became perfectly still. She stared into the distance at something Kitsune couldn’t see. A tear streaked down her cheek. Then she whispered, “If only my mother were here, I know she would have killed him herself.” She was mumbling to herself now, pacing. “At least Lilith took care of that ridiculous biographer and my bastard of a father. But now it’s up to me to get all those papers back. They’re mine, do you hear me? They’re mine.”
She stopped talking, rubbed her hand over her forehead.
Kitsune took it all in. They’d had their own father murdered? And the biographer? And Lilith? At this moment, it didn’t matter. Reality became a red pinpoint light for Kitsune. Cassandra was looking at her, death in her eyes, and Kitsune knew it was all over for her. Still, she had to try.
“So Lilith murdered both your father and the biographer?”
Cassandra smiled down at Kitsune. “You’ve learned a valuable lesson now, haven’t you? No one crosses me or my brother.”
Kitsune said nothing more, what was there to say?
She watched Cassandra’s face change. She braced herself, mentally, said goodbye to Grant.
The idea came to Cassandra in a flash. So clear, so perfect, she now knew exactly what to do. Both she and Ajax knew their grandfather would die before he’d hand over the formula. But now they wouldn’t have to torture him to get him to tell them the combination to his precious vault.
At her feet lay a master thief, that’s what Lilith had called the Fox in a worshipful voice, and she’d sworn this pitiful woman was the best in the world. She remembered now Lilith had been devastated when they’d told her the thief had to die, it was too dangerous to allow her to live, but Ajax had finally talked her around and she’d given the order to Pazzi. But the thief, this Fox, had proved her worth, her skill—she’d actually managed to steal the staff out of the Topkapi museum. So why couldn’t the Fox open her grandfather’s vault?
Kitsune could nearly taste Cassandra’s sudden excitement. What was going on here? Cassandra leaned down and patted Kitsune’s face, then, she jumped to her feet and nearly danced out of the small office. “Don’t go anywhere,” she sang out over her shoulder. And without another word, she was gone. She heard Cassandra say to Giovanni, “We’re leaving now. Bring her. Leave the man.”
“Shall I kill him?”
“No, it’s a waste of a good bullet. Leave him for the rats.”
Kitsune closed her eyes. Why had the crazy woman kept her alive? What did she want? It didn’t matter. All she cared about was Grant, and she knew he’d be okay, Nicholas and Mike would find him, free him.
It was Harry who came into the office, and in his hand was a syringe. She saw some marks on his face from her blows and a bandage on his arm where she’d gotten him with her Ka-Bar. Even though he’d beaten the crap out of her, in that moment she didn’t care.