“Pretending you don’t know things you have already figured out.”
I raised my eyebrows at him. “Why don’t you answer my question and I’ll tell you.”
“Let me put it to you this way: everyone you met inside that building is a trained killer. Any account managers you met, they are killers. Their managers are killers. If you met a custodian, he’s a killer. The nice receptionist who greeted you, killer.”
That’s what I’d suspected. “They’re an assassin firm.”
He nodded.
Assassin firms were the magical elite’s dirty secret. Not every House had combat Primes, but most prominent magical dynasties had money and a willingness to settle their private feuds through murder. The assassin firms operated in the shadows, selling their services to the highest bidder. Somehow, I never thought I would run across one in Houston.
“This is a specific type of industry, where reputation is very important,” Alessandro said. “Diatheke is in the middle of a rapid expansion. A year ago, they were still a small firm. Now they’re in the top eight worldwide. Benedict can afford anything he wants, except looking weak. He’ll hit back to save face and to silence.”
“Silence me?”
“You, Runa, your family, anyone who works for you. Anyone who can expose them for what they are.”
The Herald was full of Prime fanfic involving sexy assassins who were secretly bastard sons and daughters of the rich and powerful and went on to have edgy adventures. The reality was uglier and much more brutal. Nobody wanted the assassin firms to exist. People who had engaged their services wanted to silence them to tie up loose ends. Combat Primes wanted to eliminate them to maintain their power. Law enforcement wanted them gone because murder for hire was illegal and difficult to solve. The few times assassin firms had been discovered, the authorities broke them up with the assistance of the local Assemblies. I knew of four cases in the last fifty years and every one of them had ended in a slaughter. The loss of human life on both sides was catastrophic.
“Do you understand now?” Alessandro asked softly.
The enormity of the can of worms I had opened finally hit home. Benedict would do everything he could to keep from being discovered. He had a building full of killers at his disposal and he would just keep sending them after us until we were all dead. And if we went to the authorities with what we knew, we would sign Halle’s death warrant. They would slit her throat in retaliation.
This would end in blood.
What do I do? How do we prepare to fight this? How did I blunder so badly? Thoughts raced and collided in my head, too fast to make sense.
Alessandro dipped his head to look me in the eyes. “We’re going to be best friends from now on, you and me. We’re going to do everything together.”
I managed to pin a thought down and made my mouth move. “Where are you staying?”
“In the building across the street on the left of the big tree. I like to keep an eye on you. Your security is shit.”
I was getting really tired of people telling me that.
Arrosa always said, “When backed into a corner, handle it with grace.” I scrounged up some grace. I had to look very hard for it.
“How much do you know about the assassins Diatheke employs?”
“Enough.”
“I have a recording of Sigourney’s death.”
He came to life like a shark smelling blood in the water. “Show me.”
“I’ll bring it over. First, rules. One, do not attack or endanger my family. Two, share. If I find out that you discovered something and took off without telling me, the deal is off. And three, don’t give snacks to my dog without asking me first.”
“Agreed.” He winked at me.
“House Baylor is delighted to offer our hospitality to you, Mr. Sagredo. Dinner will be tonight at six. I’ll bring the recording by shortly.”
He bowed with an exaggerated flourish, went to my window, opened it, and jumped out.
I ran downstairs and burst into the media room. It was empty. I turned and sprinted into the kitchen. Empty. Where the hell was everybody?
I tore through the warehouse to the office and all but flew through the door.
Bern, Runa, and Ragnar sat at the table in the conference room with two laptops, a tablet, and notebooks with scribbled notes. In the corner Mom rested in her favorite chair, scrolling through her tablet. The four of them raised their heads and looked at me.