I heard something set to rest on the countertop. Then she turned, a puzzled expression on her face.

“Yes?”

“His real name is Rinaldo, and he’s Brand’s son,” I told her. “I was his prisoner for over a month in another shadow. I just now escaped.”

“Oh, my,” she whispered. Then, “What does he want?”

“Revenge,” I answered.

“Against anyone in particular?”

“No. All of us. But Caine, of course, was first.”

“I see.”

“Please don’t burn anything,” I said. “I’ve been looking forward to a good meal for a long time.”

She nodded and turned away. After a while she said, “You knew him for a pretty long time. What’s he like?”

“He always seemed to be a fairly nice guy. If he’s crazy, like his dad, he hid it well.”

She uncorked a wine bottle, poured two glasses and brought them over. Then she began serving the meal.

After a few bites she paused with her fork half raised and stared at nothing in particular.

“Who’d have thought the son of a bitch would reproduce?” she remarked.

“Fiona, I think,” I told her. “The night before Caine’s funeral she asked me whether I had a photo of Luke. When I showed her one I could tell that something was bothering her, but she wouldn’t say what.”

“And the next day she and Bleys were gone,” Flora said. “Yes. Now I think of it, he does look somewhat the way Brand did when he was very young — so long ago. Luke seems bigger and heavier, but there is a resemblance.”

She resumed eating.

“By the way, this is very good,” I said.

“Oh, thanks.” She sighed then. “That means I have to wait till you’re finished eating to hear the whole story.”

I nodded, because my mouth was full. Let the empire totter. I was starved.

Chapter 2

Showered, trimmed, manicured and garbed in fresh-conjured finery, I got a number out of Information and placed a call to the only Devlin listed in Bill Roth’s area. The voice of the woman who answered did not possess the proper timbre, though I still recognized it.