Kincaid shrugged. "As you said, we don't know for sure Ulbricht is behind any of this, and until we do, we can only guess what he intends."
Malloryn scratched at his jaw. "I've got all my spies out trying to track down any of the other members of the Sons of Gilead."
"Makes it easy, when they bloody tattoo themselves with a rising sun," Kincaid muttered.
"Agreed." For once Malloryn seemed almost cordial when he tipped his head to the burly mech. "If such tattoos were in plain sight. Some of the SOG members think this a game, a lark. Ulbricht's been toying with the young sons of the Echelon, and playing to their sympathies with his tales of how things were better in the good old days. Half of his SOG are stupid young nobles who are fresh out of their Blood Rites and perfectly content to tattoo their allegiance on their wrists. It's not them I'm interested in. They're the sheep."
"The Echelon is still holding the rites?" Ava asked in surprise. Once the Blood Rites had been deemed a nobleman's rite of passage-the time when a young boy was first infected with the craving virus, provided his candidacy was approved, of course.
"It's tradition," Malloryn replied, "and there's nothing the Echelon likes more than to cling to outdated practices."
"You don't approve?" Kincaid looked at the duke as if he'd done something interesting.
"I'm not particularly fond of the old ways, or those blue blood relics who cling to them, like Ulbricht and his cronies. The Great Houses manipulating and assassinating their way to glory... it made for a rather wary childhood, if I'm being honest. You only have to have one servant try to cut your throat one morning to realize there are better ways of doing business." He shook his head. "No. I'm interested in progress. The revolution changed the empire, and I'm tired of dragging blue bloods kicking and screaming into a better future. However, when Ulbricht and his cronies start using the heirs of that future-that is when I am going to have to take a stance.
"I want Ulbricht's head, and the only way to find him is to find those SOG members who don't flaunt their tattoos. They're the ones in power, and they're the ones I would like to have a rather stern word with."
Ava exchanged a glance with Kincaid. Ulbricht deserved whatever Malloryn had in mind, she told herself.
"I'm sending Gemma and Charlie to investigate Bayard Industries," Malloryn said, "and the Nighthawks are all over Kestrel Laboratories."
Her heart fell. "But this is-"
The duke arched a brow.
-my case. Her shoulders fell when she saw the implacable cast of his shoulders. One didn't tell Malloryn what to do. Especially not when he was in this mood.
"There was a photograph of the clinic in the paper this morning, with you in the background, Ava," Malloryn said, resting both hands on his cane. "It was claimed you're with the Nighthawks, but if the right people were looking, then they'll have noticed your face. It's not personal. You've done very well so far. But nobody knows Gemma and Charlie work for me. You, however, have rather distinctive blonde curls."
She hadn't even realized the journalists baying outside had had a photographer with them. Damn it. All the excitement she'd felt crumbled to ash, much like the building around her.
Kincaid crossed his arms over his chest. "Then what do you want me and Ava to do?"
"Wait. The Nighthawks will be bringing back samples of the vaccine from Kestrel Labs, and I'm sure Dr. Gibson would welcome Ava's assistance in testing the vials to see if any of them have been tampered with at the laboratories-or whether they were affected after they'd been transported from the production facility."
"It was clearly tampered with at the clinic," Kincaid interrupted.
"Most likely. But I want to be certain. We have to work out whether the entire production needs to be dismantled, and how to control the outcry. And," Malloryn speared Ava with a stern look, "we still need to discover what this Black Vein is, and how it's killing blue bloods."
"I'm working on it." The problem was she had a dozen puzzle pieces, and no precise means of putting them all together yet. Black Vein seemed to be connected to those humans who'd received the tampered vaccine. She'd found nothing in the contaminated vaccine vials so far that might explain it, but perhaps the Nighthawks' samples would contain some clue.
"Keep me updated."
"As you wish, Your Grace," she said, swallowing down her disappointment. Years of experience with the Nighthawks had taught her to be patient. They had a suspect, they had a few clues. She could work this out.