some interesting shit on Ms. Constantine’s computer.”
“Whatever you may think you have,” Bosch said, “I assure you it does not justify the use of invasive measures. Not without a ruling of cause. And whether you’re working for Division or working for the Alliance, Agent Tariq, you are not authorized to make that call.”
“Is that right?” Tariq said, edging up close to the old man.
“Cross me,” Bosch said, his voice low and harsh and deadly, “and I assure you that you will regret it.”
Tariq hesitated, debating. On the one hand, if he backed down now, his authority would be compromised. On the other hand, he didn’t know a single person who had ever seen Bosch put his powers into action. And according to the rumor mill, that was because no one ever survived an encounter with the man, a shadower who refused to make his allegiance known. A crossbreed of any number of species, possibly with the blood of all seven major groups flowing through his veins.
Well,
fuck
.
His phone chirped, and Tariq was never more glad for an interruption than he was right then. He flipped it open, shooting Bosch a contemptuous look and then giving the elder his back. “Go.”
“The brother’s approaching Division.” It was Elric,one of the members of the team Tariq had assigned to watch Kiril Lang, just in case Petra tried to make contact.
“Any sign of the girl?”
“None. He’s heading in the main entrance now. Probably going to the ninth-floor reception area.”
“Got it.” Tariq flipped his phone closed as Bosch signaled for the trolls to flank Sara. “Lang just got here. Go deal with him, old man. You’re the face of the Alliance here at Division, right?”
“Take her to holding on Alliance Representative Tariq’s authority,” Bosch said to the trolls. He turned to face Tariq. “No Truth Teller. No interrogation. She gets her phone call and she’s held until she retains an advocate.” He cocked his head, sending the trolls toward the door, Sara Constantine scared but proud between them.
“Constantine,” Bosch said, and touched her sleeve as she passed. For the briefest of moments, something soft crossed his expression, but by the time he turned back to Tariq, his expression was hard.
“She fucked up, Bosch.”
Nostramo Bosch looked him straight in the eye, and Tariq saw nothing there except ice. Then Bosch turned and walked out of the room, leaving only silence in his wake.
“She is my sister,” Kiril snarled, his body frenzied with the power coursing through him. He was in the Division 6 reception area, and he wanted to lash out, to set the world to spinning, to bring down the damn PEC fromthe inside out, and it was taking every ounce of self-control to not do exactly that.
Why he was bothering, though … well, that was the real question, wasn’t it? Because if Petra was dead … if he’d lost her …
Around him, the wind began to whip, ripping at his clothes, making the papers on the receptionist’s desk fly. “Uh, sir? You really shouldn’t do that in here.”
He didn’t answer, and she licked pretty pink lips and refrained from saying another word. Good decision.
Still, he wanted answers and satisfaction—not to be hauled off to a cell himself.
Slowly, methodically, he clenched his hands at his sides, willing himself to calm and the storm to fade.
To his left, a set of doors opened, and an elegant-looking gentleman stepped into the reception area. Not a vamp, not a para-daemon; Kiril couldn’t get a bead on him. But he was a shadower, that much was for certain.
And that meant Kiril didn’t trust him. Didn’t matter, though. Kiril could hold his own with pretty much any creature that walked this green earth. And they’d fucked with his sister. And that meant that today, the shadowers should be afraid of him.
“Mr. Lang,” the man said, extending his hand. “I’m Nostramo Bosch.”
Kiril ignored the hand. “I want to see my sister.”
Bosch slipped his
“Whatever you may think you have,” Bosch said, “I assure you it does not justify the use of invasive measures. Not without a ruling of cause. And whether you’re working for Division or working for the Alliance, Agent Tariq, you are not authorized to make that call.”
“Is that right?” Tariq said, edging up close to the old man.
“Cross me,” Bosch said, his voice low and harsh and deadly, “and I assure you that you will regret it.”
Tariq hesitated, debating. On the one hand, if he backed down now, his authority would be compromised. On the other hand, he didn’t know a single person who had ever seen Bosch put his powers into action. And according to the rumor mill, that was because no one ever survived an encounter with the man, a shadower who refused to make his allegiance known. A crossbreed of any number of species, possibly with the blood of all seven major groups flowing through his veins.
Well,
fuck
.
His phone chirped, and Tariq was never more glad for an interruption than he was right then. He flipped it open, shooting Bosch a contemptuous look and then giving the elder his back. “Go.”
“The brother’s approaching Division.” It was Elric,one of the members of the team Tariq had assigned to watch Kiril Lang, just in case Petra tried to make contact.
“Any sign of the girl?”
“None. He’s heading in the main entrance now. Probably going to the ninth-floor reception area.”
“Got it.” Tariq flipped his phone closed as Bosch signaled for the trolls to flank Sara. “Lang just got here. Go deal with him, old man. You’re the face of the Alliance here at Division, right?”
“Take her to holding on Alliance Representative Tariq’s authority,” Bosch said to the trolls. He turned to face Tariq. “No Truth Teller. No interrogation. She gets her phone call and she’s held until she retains an advocate.” He cocked his head, sending the trolls toward the door, Sara Constantine scared but proud between them.
“Constantine,” Bosch said, and touched her sleeve as she passed. For the briefest of moments, something soft crossed his expression, but by the time he turned back to Tariq, his expression was hard.
“She fucked up, Bosch.”
Nostramo Bosch looked him straight in the eye, and Tariq saw nothing there except ice. Then Bosch turned and walked out of the room, leaving only silence in his wake.
“She is my sister,” Kiril snarled, his body frenzied with the power coursing through him. He was in the Division 6 reception area, and he wanted to lash out, to set the world to spinning, to bring down the damn PEC fromthe inside out, and it was taking every ounce of self-control to not do exactly that.
Why he was bothering, though … well, that was the real question, wasn’t it? Because if Petra was dead … if he’d lost her …
Around him, the wind began to whip, ripping at his clothes, making the papers on the receptionist’s desk fly. “Uh, sir? You really shouldn’t do that in here.”
He didn’t answer, and she licked pretty pink lips and refrained from saying another word. Good decision.
Still, he wanted answers and satisfaction—not to be hauled off to a cell himself.
Slowly, methodically, he clenched his hands at his sides, willing himself to calm and the storm to fade.
To his left, a set of doors opened, and an elegant-looking gentleman stepped into the reception area. Not a vamp, not a para-daemon; Kiril couldn’t get a bead on him. But he was a shadower, that much was for certain.
And that meant Kiril didn’t trust him. Didn’t matter, though. Kiril could hold his own with pretty much any creature that walked this green earth. And they’d fucked with his sister. And that meant that today, the shadowers should be afraid of him.
“Mr. Lang,” the man said, extending his hand. “I’m Nostramo Bosch.”
Kiril ignored the hand. “I want to see my sister.”
Bosch slipped his
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