Free Stiletto by Daniel O'Malley Page A

ability to completely control other people’s bodies. With a touch, she could turn a person’s flesh and organs against him, bending them to her will. Odette was far too aware of her own organs to feel anything but revulsion at the idea. And the greater implications were even more frightening.
    All our resources, she thought, everything that sets us apart from normal people. Centuries of knowledge, weaponry, augmentations — they would all be rendered completely useless with one caress by this woman. For all she knew, the Thomas woman could make the Grafters’ implants tear themselves right out of their bodies.
    “I won’t ask you to shake hands,” said the Rook drily. Evidently, Odette had not concealed her horror very effectively. The other woman’s smile had gone from amused to wry, and she was not displaying any of her legendary shyness.
    “Myfanwy!” boomed Graaf van Suchtlen from behind Odette.
    “Ernst,” said Thomas with a little archness to her voice. To Odette’s astonishment, the Grafter lord leaned down to kiss the Rook’s hand. “Good evening, I’ve just been making the acquaintance of your great-great-great-great-great-granddaughter.”
    “Ah, yes, we are very proud of young Odette,” said the graaf, resting his hand heavily on Odette’s shoulder. “I expect great things of her.” Odette resisted the impulse to cringe.
    “I’m sorry that I couldn’t be at the airport to welcome you this morning,” said the Rook. “Bishop Attariwala felt that it would be more appropriate for a higher-ranking and more important member of the Court to greet you.”
    “Is that how he put it?” asked Graaf van Suchtlen, raising an eyebrow.
    “Pretty much,” said Thomas blithely. “Apparently there’s a long-standing awkwardness between the two of us.” What an odd way to phrase it, thought Odette. An older woman appeared at Thomas’s shoulder and spoke to her in low tones. The Rook made a face. “Please excuse me, Ernst, Miss Leliefeld. It seems that something absolutely horrible has happened, and it needs my attention.” She moved away, accepting a mobile phone from the older woman and putting it to her ear.
    “An intriguing woman,” mused Graaf van Suchtlen. Before Odette could think of a response, the Rook returned and spoke quickly to her assistant.
    “Any problems, Myfanwy?” the graaf inquired.
    “Not with the party,” said the Rook. “But word has just come to us through the London police that there’s been an incident. Multiple civilian fatalities. The local constabulary have secured the site, but they’ve found some very unusual elements. Someone called their boss, who called their boss, who called my office. I’ve just authorized a team to go there and examine it.”
    “Do you have to go?” asked the graaf.
    “It’s not obligatory,” said Thomas, “not at this level. But I think I will make an appearance. It turns out that the incident is just around the corner.” She hesitated. “Would the two of you like to come along?” Odette looked at her ancestor in surprise. “Your perspectives might be useful.”
    “It would give Odette a good opportunity to see the Checquy in action,” said van Suchtlen thoughtfully. “But would our leaving raise any eyebrows?”
    “I shouldn’t think so,” said the Rook. “You’ve greeted everyone, and I’ll inform my head of security if you inform yours.” The two leaders separated to find their respective underlings, leaving Odette standing alone. Despite herself, she found the prospect rather exciting. Rook Thomas’s invitation had an air of adventure about it. Not only would she be escaping the dire party, but they would be going out and actually doing something important.
    Unless, of course, this is some sort of ambush, a paranoid part of her brain suggested. They lead the head of the Grafters and the girl they think is his protégée away from the gathering, kill them, slaughter the rest of the party, and then have a