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agreed to."
    "Yeah. The
only thing that can compete with the idea of us killing our cousins
and being killed in turn would be the idea of us killing the
parasites."
    "Exactly,
except we tried that and we had to use your werewolves to make it
happen, and it wasn't bloodless where your assets are concerned. I
ran the numbers back then—even before he came back ready
to tear me to pieces—and it's not a favorable rate of exchange.
Are you sure there isn't something you can do to change the equation
there?"
    "No,
unlike the werewolves, my other assets are oddly unwilling to get
involved in those kinds of fights. I can force them to do it, but
they are never very effective when compelled like that. The only way
to get any kind of real benefit out of them is to manufacture a
situation where their interests and mine coincide. We will just have
to continue on as we've been up until now."
    Kaleb reached
up and rubbed his eyes, and it was only partly an act. He was tired
and getting more that way with every passing year. Sleep didn't do
anything to cure this kind of exhaustion. It was a fatigue of the
soul—assuming he still had one—more than anything else.
    "Can't you
give me anything else to go on? It isn't that I'm unwilling to help
you, but I'm not going to send my people in blind—there's a
limit to how many plates I can keep spinning at one time, and this
isn't just about you and me. Some of the junior partners are starting
to eye me. I can tell that they are considering the idea that a good
push at the right time might be sufficient to eliminate me and claim
my spot as their own."
    Puppeteer
looked away for several seconds, and Kaleb wondered if the other man
was accessing some distant asset. It was possible—it happened
much less frequently with that particular strain, and when it did
happen it rarely happened when Kaleb was around to see it.
    "Okay,
here's what I can do. I want you to have a group in the area awaiting
my word. As soon as I have confirmation I'll call you up and you can
assume control of that side of the operation. It's got to be a
priority for you though, Kaleb. You can't just put this on the back
burner like you have with so many of our operations in the past."
    "I have
appearances to maintain. I can't just disappear at the drop of a hat.
More importantly, you still haven't given me any details about how
this is going down. Schedule it in advance and tell me what you've
got up your sleeve and we can make this work. Otherwise we'll just
have to both make our separate cases to him and hope for the
best."
    "I hated
you back before you were brought on as a member, Kaleb, and nothing
has changed over the years. How did we ever end up on the same team?"
    "I'm not
sure. I lived through it, and I'm still not sure how he managed it."
    Kaleb slowed
his breathing down a little further and steepled his fingers so that
he could look at Puppeteer over top of them. Puppeteer stared back
for nearly a minute before finally responding.
    "It's just
like I said. I have very limited information about your son and his
allies. That's not something that my asset is particularly interested
in, but it's very clear that they are trying to build a fortress on
top of a foundation of cards. It's only going to take a small push at
the right time to split them up and it won't be pretty when things
start falling apart.
    "You know
the breed we're dealing with, Kaleb. They have a kind of sixth sense
when it comes to this kind of thing. Based on what I'm getting this
time around, the results are going to be spectacular. Some of them
will welcome death by the time Brandon and the rest of your people
show up and execute them."
    Kaleb could
tell that Puppeteer was watching him—looking for any sign that
he wasn't as committed as he needed to be. That was one thing that
Kaleb knew Puppeteer wasn't going to see—not today, and if
their joint plan went the way that Puppeteer seemed to think it
would, then not ever.
    "You can't
tell me