The waiter poured the tea and took off.
"I know exactly how deep they are. I know that there is an organization which is attempting to destabilize Houston with the long-range goal of installing an authoritarian government based on the Roman Empire. I know that the man at the head of it calls himself Caesar. I know that this plan began with Adam Pierce. I know that Olivia Charles and David Howling were part of the same conspiracy, which also includes Vincent Harcourt and Alexander Sturm. David Howling told this to me before I snapped his neck. I know that this conspiracy repeatedly targeted my family, going as far as to hire mercenaries to assault the warehouse where we live. They had orders to kill me and my sisters. I also know that you were the one who lifted the hex on the mind of a young man to find the artifact for Adam Pierce. And that you hexed Vincent Harcourt to keep him from spilling Caesar's secrets. You're in this conspiracy up to your elbows."
I took a breath. "So I'm a little confused. You tell me that I'm supposed to trust you because you and I are blood. When was blood the most important thing to you? Was it when the mercenaries arrived in the middle of the night to butcher us, when Howling iced the overpass while I was in the car behind him so I would wreck and die, or when Adam tried to burn me to death in the middle of downtown?"
Victoria narrowed her eyes. "Clever girl."
I sipped my tea.
"You have no proof."
"I don't need proof. A truthseeker hexed Vincent's mind. There are only three truthseeker Houses in the US. I met Garen Shaffer and eliminated him as a suspect."
"You cracked Garen Shaffer?" Skepticism filled her voice.
"I didn't have to. He wanted to play a game, and he lost."
"He didn't cloak?"
"He did at some point, but I picked through it. Garen Shaffer is too focused on the welfare of his family and his corporate health to become involved in a conspiracy. He's quite content with things as they are. House Lin is up to their throats in government contracts." Rogan had shared that handy fact with me one night, while we discussed the future of House Baylor. "Involving themselves with the conspiracy would be too risky, as they're under heavy scrutiny. That leaves you. You fit the profile."
"Oh, so there is a profile?"
"Yes. Everyone involved comes from an old powerful House, at least four generations deep. Everyone is dissatisfied with the status quo. Pierce wanted to burn the world free of repercussions and constraints of the law. David Howling wanted to destroy his brother and take over his House. Olivia Charles hated to see her only daughter stuck in a loveless marriage because of her genes. She had reached the apex of her social climb, but it wasn't enough. She wanted the kind of status that would allow Rynda to pick and choose her husband among the elite of the elites, no matter her genes. Vincent Harcourt is a sadist, who is almost never given free rein by his House. Not sure what Sturm's issues are, but he definitely has some."
"And me?" Her voice was deceptively mild.
"Your only son ran away when he was still a teenager. You never had another child, probably because you can't. Without heirs, House Tremaine will die with you."
Victoria's face showed no emotion. Nothing at all, as if she were carved from rock.
"You looked for him and terrorized everyone you thought might be connected to his disappearance. But you went too far, and you were made to stop. You wanted the freedom of looking for your son. You wanted access to every database, every information bank, every person you decided to question without such pesky limitations as criminal code or rulings of the Assembly. You wanted more power. What you did is treason. My father wouldn't stand for it and neither will I. I want nothing to do with you."
I got up, turned away, and took a step.
"The middle one is a siren," Victoria said behind me. "Like her grandfather. But the youngest is neither a siren, nor truthseeker. She is something else. Something you can never let out."
Catalina and Arabella. I spun around.
Victoria pointed at the chair. "Sit."
I sat.
"I had twelve miscarriages. It runs in the family, something you may need to worry about in the future. We get one offspring per generation, and we count our lucky stars if the child survives. I was my mother's ninth and final pregnancy. She died when I was twelve. My father followed her two years later. I am House Tremaine. Alone. I wanted a child. The future of the House required it, but I wanted one. And that child would need to be a strong one. A weakling would be killed. The father had to be a Prime. I tried with three different Primes, each carefully chosen, cajoled, seduced, bribed. Whatever it took."
Her hands curled around her cup like talons. Old pain flared in her eyes.