Psy & Changelings 06 - Branded by Fire

coolly elegant despite the fact that beyond the windows, Moscow lay swathed in darkness. “Sir?”
    “I’ve caught three reports of public violence by Psy in the past twelve hours,” he said, and it was the word “public” that was important—because Silence had been meant to wipe out violence among their race. “Find out what’s happening.”
    “Yes, sir.” She paused, and waited until he’d raised his head from his desk before speaking. “There is a slight possibility that Pure Psy might be behind this.”
    Kaleb had considered that—the pro-Silence vigilante group had the potential to spin out of control. And Kaleb did not countenance anything outside his control. “Do you have any evidence to back that up?” Because Silver’s family were spies, betraying Pure Psy without a blink because Kaleb was more powerful, and therefore had the potential to offer them a better gain—loyalty to anyone outside their own family was a cost-benefit calculation for the Mercants.
    “No,” Silver said. “However, I’ll ask members of my family if they’ve heard anything. There’s also a chance it’s a cluster.”
    He didn’t ask how she knew about clusters—he hadn’t chosen Silver as his aide because she was stupid. “Make a list of all recent events that fit the parameters. Go back a month.” Clusters of violence—when a ripple in Silence broke certain fragile minds—only took place over a limited period of time. Two weeks was the maximum. If this had been going on any longer, they had to start looking for another explanation.
     
     
    Even as Kaleb spoke to Silver, another man, one known only as the Information Merchant, received a request through an e-mail address available to those who knew where to look.
    The request was . . . unexpected.
    It might even, he thought, be impossible to fulfill. But the Information Merchant was the best in the business. He did not accept failure.
    Decision made, he tapped out a reply using the wireless keyboard beamed onto his desk.
    Request received. Transfer one million dollars to the account specified below. Work will begin as soon as the transfer has been verified. Further payments will depend on hours of work, and, in this case, the level of threat.

CHAPTER 8
    The echoes of Riley’s growl reverberated inside the vehicle.
    Satisfied she’d finally gotten to him, Mercy relaxed her hold on the steering wheel and literally shoved her mind into work mode. “So, the ‘explore all options’ stuff aside, what’s your gut say on this? Alliance?”
    “Has their trademark—or what we know of it.” He stared out the windshield, his wolf very apparent in the tone of his voice. And this time, the edge was lethal. “Planned like clockwork,” he continued. “Only mistake was Willow, and even that’s not a biggie. She’s a cub, was probably too scared to take much in.”
    “But if it is the Alliance, why would they be so stupid?” That, she didn’t understand. “They have to know we’ll come down hard—we took out their entire team last time.”
    Riley was silent for a few minutes. “What do we know about the Alliance?”
    “We’ve had Keely doing some research,” she said, referring to the Pack historian. “From what she found, it looks like it’s a two-faced organization, but that second face—the paramilitary arm—is hidden so deep, most of their own members don’t know about it, even though they’re effectively funding it.”
    “That tracks with our intelligence.”
    “We don’t know how long the militant arm’s existed.” She overtook a large truck with speed that made Riley’s knuckles whiten . . . and the leopard smirk in unholy glee. “But obviously, they’re beginning to get more open in their activities.” Part of Mercy could understand why the humans were starting to act with such violence. Being considered the weakest race on the planet had to hurt. “What I don’t get,” she murmured, “is how the Alliance could sink so low as to attack women and children, families? Their business arm has always had a core of integrity.”
    “Been around a long time, too.” Riley slammed a hand on the dash as she swung around a Porsche that was already going well over the speed limit. “Mercy.” The dominance was back, dark and potent and thick in the confines of the car.
    It was hard to breathe, but she kept her tone sweet, her leopard tightly held. “Yes, Riley?”
    “I’m driving on the trip back.”
    “Nope.”
    “It wasn’t