Pranath Rao’s assistant showed her into her father’s room, where Pranath sat in bed, showered and dressed in a crisp white shirt with a raised collar. A blanket of fine black wool covered his lower half.
His bed desk was busy with documents and organizers.
“A moment, Payal.”
She used that time to make a subtle scan of the room. The mirrors at the back were still in place, but she felt no minds in that area. That might be true—or it might be a complex shield. It could be done, though it was hard work. As far as she knew, the only people who regularly maintained such shields were those like the Arrows.
Her father wouldn’t have hired just anyone for his guards; his people would be highly trained. Not Arrows, since Arrows couldn’t be bought. Mercenaries, then. Possibly leftovers from the Council superstructure, people who’d managed to get away because they’d kept their heads down.
“Father.” Lalit walked into the room.
Pranath looked up. “I was informed you were here.” A reminder that he knew everything that happened in Vara. “But this is a private meeting, Lalit.”
“To which Payal invited me,” Lalit said with apparent equanimity.
“We need to discuss the Tirawa offer that just came in.” Payal held her father’s gaze. “I want Lalit to run that negotiation.”
Lalit’s head swiveled toward her, but he said nothing. Pranath, in contrast, put aside the organizer on which he’d been focused, and said, “Is there a reason you don’t want to personally handle such a major deal?”
“I’m part of the Ruling Coalition,” she pointed out. “There are certain duties I must perform that will take me away at times. Lalit’s more than capable of closing this.”
“Are you?” Pranath demanded of her brother. “You’ve been slipping of late. Did you really think I wouldn’t hear of you demolishing your suite? That kind of a lack of control is of a child.”
She didn’t expect it. Not then.
Lalit had used his telekinesis to pick up Pranath and break his neck before their father was even aware of what was happening. “Good-bye, Father dearest.”
No guards responded.
Pranath hadn’t had anyone on standby. He’d been expecting only Payal. Whom he had on a leash.
She shoved Lalit telekinetically to the other end of the room as he began to turn toward her. He smashed into the wall, cracks going out in every direction … then smiled and said, “You and me, little sister. Oh wait, we have another sibling, don’t we?” Then he vanished.
Canto, Lalit just killed our father! I think he’s going for Karishma! She teleported the split second afterward, right into Karishma’s living space at the school … just in time to see Lalit blink out of there. It happened so fast that she couldn’t tell if he’d had anyone with him. “Kari!”
She’s not at the school, remember? Canto’s calm, clear voice. You told me she and Visha Ramachandran went on a small vacation to a rural property that you own.
Payal’s panic flatlined. Yes, and Lalit has no knowledge of that property.
I just used your passwords to access the security system of the vacation property, Canto added. I can see them—they’re fine, doing a puzzle in the living area. If Lalit could get there, he’d be there already.
Thank you. Her mind snapping back into focus, she returned to her father’s suite.
The doors flung open at the same instant, Pranath Rao’s guards arriving too late.
She slammed them back with her Tk before they could raise their weapons. “My brother is now a murderer.” One who was on tape, because she had zero doubts her father had a security system that recorded everything. Including Lalit’s vicious and mocking good-bye, and the way he’d just slightly raised his right hand at the exact moment Pranath was killed. A small tell, but one Lalit had developed young; it wouldn’t be hard to prove that, of the two of them, he was the one who’d committed the murder.
“Call Enforcement and send out an alert that he is dangerous and wanted for the murder of his father.” Lalit’s plan must be to take her out, too, then seize control of the entire Rao empire. But the instant she made his crime public, she would throw a massive spanner in the works—and might just flush him out.
Her father’s secretary coughed. “Are you sure, ma’am? This is family business.”
“I’m sure,” she said, her voice arctic. “This is my family now. If I ever need to repeat an order again, you won’t like it.”
No flinch, no reaction, but the middle-aged man