My suite looked exactly the same.
The foyer opened to a large living area with clustered seating areas. Done in shades of cream and blue with dark hardwood floors, my suite had always been an oasis in the heart of the Consortium storm. On the left was a small, fully functional kitchen—though the synthesizer saw more use than the stove. A dining table for fourteen dominated that side of the room.
On the right were the doors leading to the formal sitting room and study. A hallway led deeper into the suite to the guest bath and my private rooms. Just seeing it again, preserved as if I’d never left, was enough to bring tears to my eyes. I blinked them away and ushered Loch in.
“You’re late,” Bianca called from the sitting room.
I froze for a half a breath, then I ran to greet her. “Bianca!”
Bianca sat on a brown and gold brocade settee, but she stood when I entered the room. She wore a somber gray day dress that still managed to emphasize her delicate figure. Bianca wore the colors of mourning while in public thanks to her bastard husband’s death nearly a year ago. In another month or two she could return to her usual bright colors and she would be free of the man once and for all.
She was the shortest member of the family by far, so she made up for it by wearing ridiculous heels. The pair strapped to her feet today seemed to defy gravity. When I hugged her, we were the same height, even though I knew she was more than ten centimeters shorter than me.
She squeezed me tightly. “I’m glad you’re back,” she said softly. “I worried about you.”
Bianca felt almost fragile in my arms. She’d lost weight she couldn’t afford to lose. I pulled away to look at her face. Under the carefully applied makeup, she looked tired and worn. “What’s going on?” I asked her.
Her smile was quick and rueful. “I should’ve known you would notice,” she said. “I am fine, just tired. I’ve had a lot on my plate lately.”
I looked away. A lot of that stress was due to me. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I never meant for you to work yourself to the bone. You should know that.”
“It’s not your fault,” she said. At my disbelieving look she amended, “Okay, it’s not all your fault.” Her eyes darted over my shoulder. “But I would like an introduction to the man who is trying to claim my baby sister.”
“Be nice,” I warned.
“I’m always nice,” she said innocently, but her smile spelled danger.
“I’m assuming you swept for bugs?” I asked. At her nod, I waved Loch into the room from where he was hovering at the door, still cloaked and hooded. “Bianca, meet Marcus Loch,” I said when he reached my side. “Marcus, meet my older sister Bianca. You can take off the cloak.”
Loch threw back his hood. His face was set in hard, forbidding lines. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at Bianca. He looked as welcoming as an arctic tundra.
“If you hurt her,” Bianca said softly, her smile still in place, “I will geld you with a rusty fork.”
Loch blinked then raised an eyebrow. “Think you can?”
“Absolutely,” she said with utter certainty.
Loch laughed, fracturing his badass image. “In that case, it’s nice to meet you, Lady Bianca,” he said, extending a hand. “And if I hurt her, I’ll let you.”
She nodded in understanding and shook his hand. “It’s just Bianca when we’re with family,” she said firmly.
“Now that we’ve gotten the threats portion of our day out of the way, can we get down to business?” I asked. “Loch has a clean identity on a secondary chip. We are going to need Ian to set him up with diplomatic immunity.”
Bianca barely flinched at Ian’s name, but it was enough for me to catch. She wasn’t in public persona mode, so it was easier to read her. Ian Bishop was the director of House von Hasenberg security. He and Bianca had some sort of history, but I’d never been able to pry it out of her.
“How good is the identity?” Bianca asked.
“Rhys set it up,” Loch said. “It’s solid.”
“Okay, then the identity is the least of our worries. But Ian is bound to recognize you,” Bianca said, “and you can’t go around cloaked all of the time. Even if we figure out how to deal with Ian, someone else will recognize you.”
“There’s no way around recognition, at least not here,” Loch said. “The identity I have lists me as Marcus Loch’s cousin. I’ll claim familial looks. With a solid identity it should hold, but it forces me to rely on diplomatic immunity more than I’d like.” Loch shrugged. “It’s the best Rhys and I came up with on short notice.”
I didn’t love the plan, but between the debriefings and working behind the scenes to get Loch a pardon, I planned to lie low. Loch wouldn’t be too exposed until I had to start moving in Consortium society. And I would hold off on that until I was close to a pardon hearing.
Bianca didn’t look convinced, either, but she didn’t object, which meant she didn’t have a better alternative. “What do you need for the pardon?” she asked.
“I need everything you can dig up on the Genesis Project,” I said. I briefly filled her in on the details and was gratified to see her get more and more upset. By the time I was done, she practically vibrated with the need to get started.
“Leave it to me,” she said.
A huge weight lifted from my shoulders. Bianca was the best at information gathering. If it could be found, she would find it. “Thank you,” I said.
“You’re welcome,” she said. “Send Ian a message and ask him to come here. He’ll be easier to deal with here than in the main security office if something goes wrong.”
“Didi, ask Director Bishop to come to my suite to add my bodyguard to the diplomatic immunity roster,” I said. A chime sounded throughout the room as the suite computer sent my message. “I wasn’t sure that would still work,” I said. I’d changed the name of my suite computer to Didi ages ago, but I had expected Father to wipe everything after I left.
Bianca caught the direction of my thoughts. “As far as I know, Father didn’t touch your room,” Bianca said. “I checked on things a few times, but I don’t think anyone else, other than staff, ventured inside.”
Another, subtler chime sounded. “Read the message,” I said.
“Director Bishop replied that he is on his way,” Didi said.
Bianca started fidgeting. Anxiety churned in my gut. Only Loch, the one with the most to lose, looked completely calm. He pulled me into a half hug with an arm around my waist. “It will be fine,” he said. “You know Rhys’s identities are bulletproof.”
“The identity may be bulletproof, but you’re not,” I reminded him.
He gave me a squeeze and brushed a kiss across my temple. “We’ve got this. Now, what’s my name?”
“Vincent Loch,” I said. “Marcus Loch’s cousin on his father’s side, as far as you can tell.” The key to a good identity was the details, and Rhys always sweated the details. Vincent Loch had a family, deceased, of course, but with all the paper trails necessary to throw off all but the most dogged investigators.
The suite doorbell rang. “Director Bishop is at the door,” Didi said. I pulled on my public persona and watched Bianca do the same. It was always odd to watch the change on someone else. Bianca’s face smoothed out and her expression went cold and distant. Her chin tilted up just slightly, and her eyes were flat and hard.
I moved to the sitting room doorway, then checked if Bianca and Loch were ready. Bianca settled back onto the settee then nodded. Loch lounged against the wall. “I’m ready when you are, darling.”
“Let Director Bishop in,” I said.
Chapter 27