Demon Revealed (High Demon #2)(37)
Author: Connie Suttle

"I know you’ve sent Griffin to check on her a time or two."

"He was happy to do so—said he’d already considered it before I asked."

"Then he’s seen something, too."

"Yes. It frightens me at times to know my son is the Oracle."

Reah, we’ll be sending Ry and Tory tomorrow—you need to find an excuse to hire both of them; Lendill sent as I was pouring out a glass of wine. The day had been an exhausting one; it was very late, I had an appointment with Arvil the following morning to go over the accounts for all his restaurants and I hadn’t taken time for dinner. Now things would be even more complicated with Tory coming. Yes, I loved him and missed him, but there was Teeg. What would happen?

Did you tell Tory about Teeg?

Yes—he knows to be circumspect. Don’t say anything to Ry or Tory that you don’t want overheard. Send it to them in mindspeech only. They know not to push it, Reah. That was fine for him to say—what if I wanted to throw myself at Tory and weep? The stress from walking the tightrope between Arvil and the ASD was beginning to wear on me. I was tired of constantly feeling afraid. It interrupted my slumber and permeated my dreams, even with Teeg there to smooth things over and send me back to sleep. Now I was expected to produce a valid reason to hire Ry and Tory. And then stay away from Tory, as if he were a stranger or something.

I blew out a breath, realizing as I did so that my hair was now long enough to stir a little if I blew a sigh upward. Resolving to pay more attention to my appearance in the mirror before going to bed, I asked Lendill what kind of work I ought to find for Ry and Tory.

Security or bodyguarding would be best but do what you can, he replied, cutting off our communication.

Haral handed a credit chip to the cocktail waitress. "Just make sure you tell her that one of our best customers has a complaint. Bring her to the office at the back of the casino around fourteen bells."

The cocktail waitress nodded. She’d taken others to Haral before, in exchange for a fat, non-identifying credit chip. Those were difficult to come by and untraceable. She had nearly enough money to leave Campiaa and set herself up elsewhere. She was still pretty but on Campiaa, cocktail waitresses were younger.

She’d turned her head when some of the girls she’d taken to Haral came up missing afterward. At least he was neat in his work—she’d never found signs of blood or other evidence of any crime. Besides, people came up missing on Campiaa all the time. The constabulary tended not to hunt for them unless they were paid very well to do so. Even then, if Arvil San Gerxon was involved, nothing was ever done. He owned the constabulary, after all. If the waitress had known then that Haral’s target was one of Arvil’s new heirs, she never would have agreed, no matter the cost.

Teeg didn’t come to bed until very late, and I was scheduled to get up in only a click or two. He pulled me against him and was asleep almost immediately. I left him in bed when I woke, bathing and dressing in our adjoining bath as quietly as I could. Tiptoeing out later, I scrounged something for breakfast in the kitchen, although the staff offered to make whatever I wanted. I got fruit and tea before going to my meeting with Arvil. That was the one thing I could say about Arvil—he was an early riser.

"Here are the accounts, Lord Arvil. I’ve fired everyone who had anything to do with the false billings and bad inventories." I pushed the comp-vid to Arvil, who slid his finger in a practiced manner down the screen, checking through everything I’d flagged.

"Did you recover any credits on this one?" One of the head cooks I’d fired had found a way to transfer a percentage of all income into his personal account.

"I had security help with that one—we went to the bank and took back what he’d funneled into his account—that record will be on the recovery file." I started to rise to show Arvil how to pull it up—he waved me back down—he’d already found it.

"Very good, Reah," Arvil nodded happily. He’d found the other accounts I’d recovered for him. Some think that stealing from a thief isn’t stealing. Well, stealing is stealing. You might justify it now and then, but it’s still theft. "What did you do with them afterward?"

"Made sure they were sent away and put their fingerprints and eye scans into the database of known criminals who can’t return," I said. If Arvil expected me to murder them while they stood in front of me, he needed to find another heir.

"Good," he said and kept flipping through the accounts. I felt wrung out when I left his office about a click later. Arvil seemed satisfied with everything we were doing, including inviting some of his best guests to a reception to serve really good desserts, wine and cheese.

Kiasz and I had ordered cheeses the day before—the best that could be gotten. With the black market on Campiaa, that turned out to be quite a lot. We intended to serve salmon in small crusts too—normally it was served as a main dish, but we were making small ones for the limited number of guests we had, in addition to smaller versions of other, nicer dishes meant to lure them to the restaurants.

Arvil promised to get some of his big name entertainers to attend so the guests would be satisfied all the way around. We’d planned it for two nights later, so there was plenty to do. I hunched my shoulders as I walked out the side door to Arvil’s palace, heading toward the side gate and the nearest employee entrance into The San Gerxon Casino.

"Reah, I think I’m in love." Kiasz had tasted the small salmon pastries. They had the lightest, flakiest crust surrounding the salmon with just a bit of butter, onion, herbs and creamy sauce.

"You wouldn’t know love if it jumped up and bit you on the ass." Kiasz’s assistant cook (and his lover, I’d learned) came by and swatted the ass in question. That made me laugh. Yindu, Kiasz’s assistant, was short, brown-haired and loved Kiasz. I couldn’t fault him—he was loyal to Kiasz. We’d had a talk about it, Kiasz and I. I told him that the relationship couldn’t interfere with the running of the kitchen. He’d agreed. Yindu wasn’t suffering any over his superior being his lover. "Where did you learn to make this pastry? I might be in love, too." Yindu tried one of the salmon-filled pastries.

"Pastry was the first thing I learned how to make," I said. "Followed by vegetables, pasta, sauces, desserts and main courses."

"Where did you learn?" Kiasz was interested. Arvil already had that information—the false records held a bit of truth—they said I’d worked in the kitchens at Desh’s on Tulgalan. It never said my last name used to be Desh, though. "I worked in the kitchens at Desh’s number two," I said. "On Tulgalan."