Night's Pawn Read Free

power. Little was known about her, and less than a handful had ever actually met her. The only description he'd ever heard was that she was of Nordic descent, but in this day and age only a DNA test could tell for sure. She was a powerful sorceress, an adept perhaps, and had relied on that to conceal her trip to Seattle. She needed to speak to someone, and that individual was not about to come to her. What she hadn't counted on was that someone else knew how to look better than she knew how to hide.
    Shavan had been surprised that he'd known she was in Seattle, let alone that he knew where to find her. She'd believed that her business was deeply buried in the shadows. That was her first mistake. Her second was believing that what he offered her was sincere.
    He'd chosen the meeting place, one known for its security, and she'd chosen the time. His only guarantee was her word that she'd be there, and that was enough. They both had reputations to live up to.
    He stepped through the inner doors to find her waiting, exactly according to the plan. He was late.
    "Alexander," she said, a slightly wicked smile crossing her face. "Fancy meeting you here."
    The sight of her was so different from what he'd expected that he scanned the room to hide his surprise. In startling contrast to the woman, the room and its accessories were pure white. Everything about Shavan was dark. Her clothes, her skin, her eyes, even her voice.
    She laughed. "I believe this is yours." Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a wad of bright red silk and let it drift gently onto a sofa.
    The odds against him walking out of here in one piece suddenly fell radically. His mind raced through the possibilities of how she could have gotten the silk, and he rejected every one just as quickly. There was no way she could have gotten it and still beaten him here. Regardless, she'd used the ploy to good purpose: his momentum was broken. With his options already halved, he was still at least five minutes away from playing his real cards. Until then, a bluff would have to do.
    He picked up the silk and tied it around his throat. "Like it?" he asked, keeping his voice as level as he could manage.
    She seemed amused. "Like what?"
    "The silk."
    Her amusement grew. "Ah, yes, it's lovely, I must admit. And real no doubt." Keeping him in view, she turned slightly to mix a drink.
    "One hundred percent."
    "Only the best for Alexander."
    He let several long moments pass as he wandered over to the audio-visual console and casually scanned the selection menu. "Only the best for Gunther Steadman," he said, pressing on the touch-sensitive screen. He cued the first selection to fade up midway through and the second to follow it after a short pause.
    The mention of the name Steadman gave Shavan such a start that he caught her surprise even as she mastered it. She already knew that Steadman was dead. He sensed the fear and anger that washed over her before she regained her calm. For someone of her power, Shavan was proving far too easy to read.
    Nonchalantly, she finished mixing her drink and turned to face him directly. "Red was never Steadman's color," she said coolly.
    The music he'd selected had begun to play, giving her another pause and him another opening. Choosing the piece had been a gamble. Hearing it now, he wondered briefly if he'd overplayed his hand.
    "It is now." He said, letting the music almost drown his words. She heard him, though, for he sensed another wave of tension wash over her.
    "This wouldn't be some kind of threat, would it?" Only her eyes followed him as he moved to sit on a nearby float sofa. "I think Mozart's Requiem is hardly suitable background for a business meeting." Her voice was flat, expressionless.
    He shrugged. "I like it. It relaxes me. Just think of it as being in honor of Steadman."
    She relaxed fractionally and said, "So, he's dead ."
    He nodded, stretched his arms out across the back of the sofa, and told her what he was fragging sure she already