“They must hunt. I suspect that it has to do with their digestive systems. Certain enzymes that only activate after a chase or perhaps after the hormonal burst that precedes the kill. We do not fully understand it. We supplement their diet, but primary nutrition must come from hunting. We maintain both deer and buffalo herds on our land for that purpose.”
“What if she stumbles across a person?” Augustine asked.
“The property is fenced in and well protected. Cameras, alarms, guard towers. Besides, Celeste is very intelligent. She is aware of what her prey is. If a child were to blunder into her path as she is charging after a deer, she would jump over them and stay locked on her dinner.”
The camera zoomed in on the two guards. They waited. Moments ticked by.
Kayson checked his watch and went back to the metal door, opened it, went inside, and reappeared with a black janitorial cart, a platform on wheels with a large metal cabinet and a trash bin attached to it. He wheeled it through the gates. Aleah looked at the woods one last time and followed him.
The view switched to the interior camera. A cozy habitat occupied a room the size of a small warehouse, grass, moss, big rocks, and fallen tree trunks under a large skylight. Two oaks spread their branches over the grass. They had built the habitat around the trees. A stream ran into a shallow pond, kept atbarely a third full. Kitty could swim, enjoyed it even, and yet Diana couldn’t help but worry about an accidental drowning. A shallow man-made cave rose in the corner, layered with straw. On it, a soft blue clump curled, about the size of an adult female beagle.
Kayson wheeled the cart forward and pulled a pitchfork from the rack by the wall. Aleah walked up behind him. Her arm snapped up.
Diana had watched the recording over and over. She’d nearly memorized it by now, but even so, she could barely make out the outline of the knife in the woman’s hand. The blade was so small. Three inches, if that.
Aleah clamped one hand over Kayson’s mouth and slit his throat. He thrashed in her grip. She let him go. Kayson stumbled forward, careened to the side, and collapsed.
She felt that cut across her own neck, like a searing wire that sliced her carotid. Diana clamped her rage and grief into an iron fist and held herself still.
On the screen, Aleah walked to the cave, picked up Kitty, slid her into a bag, lowered the bag into the metal cabinet, and wheeled the cart away.
“An illusion mage,” Augustine said. “Likely a low-range Significant, possibly an upper-level Notable. Probably a woman.”
Diana blinked. “How did you know?”
On the screen,the assassin pushed the cart out of the enclosure. The view blinked, switching to the outer camera. As she turned the corner, her face blurred for the briefest of moments. She kept walking out, receding from view.
“Ah. So that’s what prompted you to come to me,” Augustine said. “She gave herself away.”
“How did you know?” Diana repeated.
That direct stare again. How interesting. He wasn’t in the habit of revealing secrets of his brand of magic, but he wanted to know her reaction.
“Most people don’t realize how often they subconsciously touch their face. We scratch our chins, brush our lips, rub our eyes… The murder victim touched his face four times. The killer didn’t touch her face once. She didn’t smile or raise her eyebrows. She didn’t emote at all.”
The industry term was “dead face.” It was a sure giveaway.
“An illusion mage in disguise is acutely aware of their face at all times. Holding an illusion over stationary features is one thing. Holding it while your face moves is much harder. Every touch and every contraction of the facial muscles magnify the risk of failure.”
“But why a Significant?” she asked. “I thought only Primes could produce illusions that appeared on camera.”
“That’s what common wisdom says. Common wisdom also states that animal mages are barely able to hold conversations and treat other people like objects.”
“Yes.”
“We both know that neither is exactly accurate. The other guard was important to you.”
A hint of something vicious sparked in her eyes and melted. Her expression was perfectly placid the entire time, and her voice was measured and calm, even distant.
“Kayson had been with our House for ten years. He left behind a wife and an infant child. I’ve known Aleah since she was fourteen. She is the daughter of a long-term employee. Our House paid for her veterinary education and training. We found her in her garden. She was shot twice, in the back and in thehead. She is in a medically induced coma. We don’t know if she will survive.”
Diana Harrison was livid. It wasn’t just an insult to the House. No, these people were family, in the traditional sense of the word. She cared about them, and she buried her rage very deep inside herself. Inevitably, it would explode.
He was right to delay the payment. This was deeply personal, and it promised to be messy and brutal. He would need plausible deniability when things turned ugly.
“My condolences,” he offered.
“Thank you.” She faced him. “You are right. It’s not that we are unable to form attachments to people, Augustine. It’s that we are conditioned to reject them.”
