Page 45 of Concluded (The Bureau #13)

I rina . Dee must have heard Martell use his mother’s name in the distant past, but he couldn’t recall it, and he hadn’t consciously remembered her name himself. For almost forty years she’d simply been Mother (missing) and nothing else.

But now Spurling had used her name—very casually, as if the name, too, hadn’t been absent for most of Dee’s life—and although this was the most unimportant detail in the world right now, it was all that Dee could think of.

Which was so wrong when the man he loved lay bound and miserable right in front of him, and when that man’s life was probably going to be stolen very soon.

If Dee tried to focus on Achilles, however, horror came at him like a tidal wave and he had to back away. That was his master there, his beloved, and Dee had simply handed him over and pretended it was no big deal.

His mother— Irina —gripped Dee’s arm like a vice, her hands cold and hard. “I’ll keep him,” she said.

A moment later, Achilles was gone.

This was not the worst possible outcome, Dee reminded himself. Keeping implied that Achilles wasn’t dead; he’d probably been sent to the black hole. And although that place was fucking awful, Achilles had survived it twice already, so maybe he could survive again.

Meanwhile, Dee had a job to do.

As soon as Achilles disappeared, Spurling walked briskly away and through a door, followed silently by the goons who’d driven them here. Dee, who hadn’t used any magic in days, felt utterly exhausted.

“You should be polite to him,” Irina scolded. “He doesn’t know whether to trust you yet.”

“I don’t trust him either.” He felt anger roil inside him, hot and bitter. Although he knew that anger was the enemy’s weapon, he couldn’t completely tamp it down. “Is he your new husband?”

She squeezed his arm hard. “Stop it. You know as well as I do that we need somebody. I’ve had to settle before, but not this time. And when you’re the magic behind the power, well, then you’re the power. And Deedee, this is the real thing.”

He couldn’t argue with that logic, although he did want to point out that power, like money, was a hollow goal.

It didn’t seem to matter how much people had, they always seemed to want more, until the need became as all-consuming as any addiction.

But he stayed silent as she steered him through the room and down a long hall with bare white walls.

“Did you make this house for him?” Dee asked.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she said, “You’ll need a proper master. I’ll speak to Garrick about it. The idea was that the Ashley woman would suit you, but your tastes seem to run to men. Not a problem. He’ll find you one.”

Dee was still shuddering at the concept of infernal matchmaking when Irina brought him into a bedroom.

It had no windows, and the furniture was limited to a bed, an armchair, and a dresser, all of them as bland as something from a mid-range hotel—the sort that is found near highway interchanges and offers English muffins and bruised bananas for breakfast. Through a door was a small bathroom.

“Someone will bring you some food soon, and fresh clothes and a toothbrush,” Irina said, patting the mattress.

“I don’t even know what time it is.” There were no clocks in the room, and he didn’t have a watch or phone.

“It doesn’t matter.” She walked to the door but paused before leaving. “This is the best choice, Damnation. Nobody will look out for us but us.” Then she left, shutting the door firmly. When Dee tested it, he wasn’t surprised to find it locked.

“You made your own bed, Damnation,” he said out loud. “Now lie in it.”

Still clothed, he did just that.

* * *

At some indeterminate hour the next day, Irina came to fetch him. He’d been up for a while, pacing the small room like a caged animal. Today she wore a sleeveless black dress and black pumps, and her hair was starting to escape from an elaborately pinned updo.

“Where’s Spurling?” Dee demanded, not caring how petulant he sounded.

“In a meeting. He’ll join us later. Let’s have something to eat first.” She held out a hand as if he were a small child, but he ignored it and crossed his arms.

“I’m not here for a social call. I want?—”

“I know what you want. In due time. These people do things on their own schedule. Besides, I want to chat with you a bit first.”

Although he wasn’t happy about this, he figured a tantrum wouldn’t help.

And he was curious to see what she had to say, especially since she hadn’t been talkative during the hours they’d spent in the car.

He followed her out of the room and down the same long, plain hallway as the night before.

He repeated a question from the previous day.

“Did you make this house?”

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “No.”

That left him wondering what she had done for Spurling. He decided that he’d rather not know.

After walking for what felt like an unreasonably long time, they came to a room that resembled an office break room.

The overhead fluorescents cast a harsh light over white melamine cabinets, a wheezing white fridge, a cheap-looking sink, and a microwave and coffee maker.

There was also a slightly battered table and six chairs with worn upholstery sitting in the middle of the scuffed vinyl floor.

“Sit,” Irina ordered before spending ten minutes or so brewing tea and arranging food on plates. Dee thought about Achilles. Was he hungry and thirsty? In pain? Frightened?

By the time Irina handed Dee a dish with diced fruit and something that looked like a slice of quiche, his appetite had fled. He sipped some tea, though, and considered his scalded tongue a small part of his penance.

“Can you just tell me what’s going on?” he asked her. “Nobody wants to give me a straight story and I’m sick of it.”

“You can’t simplify this situation. But you’ve been spending time with the Bureau scum, so I’m sure you have at least a basic sense of it, even if the perspective is warped.

” She hadn’t eaten any of her food either, and now she looked down at her carefully manicured hands.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s not your fight.

You’re in this to get as much as you can. ”

Ah, so Irina wasn’t so much evil as amoral, much as he’d always been. But he didn’t think that was true for him anymore.

“Get what?” he asked.

She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Everything. If you play the game right.”

“Spurling said this isn’t a game.”

“Him.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Let me ask you something. You thought that I’d created this house. You did something like that for Ashley, didn’t you?”

He decided there was no need to lie. “Twice. So?”

“And you got that angel into the Bureau’s hands. That was quite something. Garrick and the others pretend like that wasn’t important, but I think it was. They’re certainly angry over it.”

Dee managed to suppress a smile. “Your point?”

“I couldn’t have done either of those things.

Yes, I can grant wishes, and some of those are quite useful.

But nothing as big as that. Your powers, Deedee, are far stronger than mine.

And that’s because my mother was fully human, but you are three-quarters djinn.

And there’s one more thing you should know.

” She paused, clearly expecting him to ask for more.

But he was still digesting the first bit and contemplating what it signified. Did it mean he could counteract anything Irina did? And what, exactly, were the limits of his abilities? His current hosts might not even know.

Finally, he looked at her. “What should I know?”

Her smile was wide and her eyes sparkled. “You and I are the last djinn in the world.”

“What?”

“There were never more than a few of us; we’re not very fertile. And over the centuries, different regimes have sought us out and slaughtered us out of fear of what we could do.” She shrugged. “Your father was the last full-blooded djinn, and I’ve told you already what happened to him.”

A disturbing mix of emotions roiled through Dee.

He was relieved that Spurling and his pals didn’t have an army of djinn at their disposal.

He grieved the loss of a father he’d never known and a people that, until recently, he hadn’t even known existed.

And he was thrilled to realize how exceptional he was.

Assuming, of course, that Irina was telling the truth.

“This is why I gave you your name,” she said softly. “A memorializing of our entire species, which has been damned for many generations.”

Dee cradled his mug between his palms and tried to think.

He wished that Achilles was here to help him make sense of all this, and that Charles was here too, promising to get his agents researching Irina’s claims. He wished he could talk with Tenrael about what he’d seen of djinns over the centuries.

But Dee was alone now.

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked.

“So you understand your value and also the danger you’re in.

If they believe that you’ve truly turned your back on the Bureau, that you’re genuinely willing to help their cause, they’ll forgive you for Ashley and the angel.

You’re potentially too beneficial for them to hold a grudge.

And they will give you nearly anything you could possibly want.

Look at me—Garrick gives me human Bureau agents for my collection because I ask for them and he has uses for me.

But Deedee, if they don’t believe you, they’ll destroy you.

Because they can’t risk having you act against them. ”

She leaned back in her seat, arms crossed, and solemnly watched him.

Dee wanted to ask her about her collection and the implications for Achilles but couldn’t think of a way to do so without giving himself away. Her collection hadn’t been the point of her little lecture anyway. Instead, she’d been giving him a warning.

“How do I convince them?” he asked.