by Nalini Singh
Kiev tried to slide around the question. “Blaise wanted to do it late at night because he thought Selenka would be more relaxed then, in a receptive frame of mind.”
Ethan’s hand glowed.
“Fine!” The older man threw his helmet on the ground. “I was to go to the den, get Selenka out here so they could meet in privacy.” He swallowed hard. “But I’m twenty minutes late and it’s all ruined now!”
Ethan wondered if the other man really was that stupid, or if he truly didn’t care that the people he wanted to assist had set his daughter up to die. The answer didn’t matter to Ethan. All he wanted to do was end this threat to his mate.
Ivo closed his hand over Ethan’s forearm. “Selenka’s call.” A whisper so quiet it would reach only Ethan.
Knight, Ethan reminded himself, I’m her knight. She is the queen. And this wasn’t an exigent circumstance.
As if giving Ethan time to regain control, Ivo bared his teeth. “How did Blaise and Nomani get out of their compound without being tracked? Gregori has the place under full watch.”
Ducking his head, Kiev mumbled something too low for Ethan to hear, but Ivo’s chest rumbled. “One of Blaise’s congregation deliberately got into an argument with a sentry as a distraction so the two could slip out.”
“You didn’t find that strange?” Ethan managed to say through his cold need to kill. “That they’d use subterfuge to get out instead of simply requesting a meeting?”
“Blaise couldn’t even get through to Selenka! Artem blocked him!” Kiev’s eyes weren’t human anymore . . . and they were gold rather than the more prevalent shades of amber.
Father and daughter.
But genetics was where the bond ended. Because as Ethan considered everything that had happened to date, the pieces clicked into place one by one. “You planned to meet with Blaise once before, didn’t you?” He spread out his palm, fingers glowing. “On the day of Emanuel’s murder.”
Chapter 40
Endless masks
A cupboard of faces
Betrayal painted in glitter
—“Duplicity” by Adina Mercant, poet (b. 1832, d. 1901)
ANOTHER JETCYCLE SOUNDED from the direction of den territory before Kiev Durev could respond. Exchanging a glance with Ivo, Ethan stopped the questioning. It was two jetcycles that emerged, not from the road, but from the trees. Parking their sleek black vehicles side by side, Margo and Selenka strode over.
Ethan’s mate took in both him and Ivo. “No injuries?”
Even as they confirmed they were unharmed, her father jumped off his own jetcycle. “I’m the fucking injured one! Look what your pet Psy did!”
Selenka’s look was as hard as stone. “If you can’t handle a couple of small bites, you don’t deserve to call yourself a wolf.” Her voice was pitiless. “What’re you doing here, Father?” This time, Ethan heard the “push” in her voice, the tone of an alpha who wanted an answer. Now.
Kiev Durev sweated and looked away before mumbling out the same explanation he’d given Ethan. Pain raked its claws across Selenka’s features, but she was stone-faced again by the time her father looked up. “Is this the first time you’ve collaborated with Blaise?”
“It wasn’t collaboration! The Disciples can help us be more a part of the future, civilized and intelligent!” His voice was breathy and his eyes kept flicking away. “Look at the respect Blaise commands from his flock without any show of brawn.”
“Did you intend to meet him the day Emanuel was killed?” Selenka’s voice was colder than Ethan had ever heard it, colder than he’d imagined she could ever sound—yet it wasn’t a Psy cold. No, this cold was a flame so hot it had turned blue.
When Kiev didn’t reply, she said, “Did you intend to meet him on the day of Emanuel’s murder?” The threat in her voice was a knife thudding into bone, claws ripping flesh off the body.
“Yes.” Kiev spoke as if the word was torn out of him, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “But he got spooked at being caught in our territory without a guide and took off before I arrived. He was long gone by the time Emanuel was murdered!”
To Ethan, it appeared that Kiev actually believed that. Or he’d told himself that so many times that he’d turned a hope into a truth.
“Did you disable the cameras at our border?” Selenka’s voice had no give in it, no forgiveness.
“What? No.” A flicker of confusion. “I don’t do technology.”
“But you know it well enough to call in a false alert about a lost child using an ID stolen from an elder.”
Kiev Durev paled. “I didn’t permit Blaise anywhere close to the den,” he said, as if that excused anything. “The area in our territory was just a good private meeting spot.”
That made no logical sense. If Kiev had wanted to meet Blaise away from prying eyes, all he had to do was go to Blaise’s church. To bring an outsider into pack territory without his alpha’s permission and knowledge? It reeked of arrogance that said Kiev Durev was more important than anyone else—more important than the safety of his pack.
Selenka’s face mirrored Ethan’s thoughts, the bleak pain Ethan felt emanating along the mating bond shuttered behind a stony facade. “Your punishment will depend on what Blaise says when he wakes up, but, Father?” She waited until Kiev met her gaze. “We’re done. There is no longer any father-daughter relationship between us. I am your alpha and you will obey my commands or you will die at my claws.”
Kiev’s face went white. He, too, had heard the finality in Selenka’s voice, heard the lack of give.
Leaving the older male standing helplessly next to his jetcycle, she strode over to join Ethan and Ivo while Margo continued to crouch by Nomani’s body, a phone to her ear. The first thing Selenka did was cup Ethan’s jaw and look into his eyes. Apparently satisfied by what she saw, she dropped her hand and turned to Ivo. He got the same intense scrutiny before she said, “Tell me what happened.”
Ivo did the talking and it didn’t take long. The lieutenant ended with, “Her weapon was set to kill. I had to take her out.” There was no guilt in those words, and his body didn’t tense up.
“Blaise’s weapon was also set to kill.” Ethan showed Selenka where the weapon had fallen. “I believe we were a target of opportunity. You were the intended one.” Even saying the words made shards of light ricochet inside him, body and mind both ready to eliminate the threat.
His mate stepped in to tug him down for a kiss.
When she broke it, he had moved away from the murderous precipice.
“There’s also a slight chance they intended to kill your father.” Ivo folded his arms across the jacket he’d never zipped up.
“No. Blaise wouldn’t eliminate his source of intelligence about BlackEdge.” The wolf lived in Selenka’s eyes. “Ivo, you go brief Margo. Tell her I want a team at the church to round up the congregation. Sit tight on them until I decide what comes next.”
A groan, Blaise stirring. But the cult leader wasn’t yet awake.
Selenka looked at Ethan after Ivo was out of earshot. “You say something to Ivo about the weapon being set to kill?”
“It was,” Ethan replied. “He had no choice.”
“The woman attacked a predator. She asked for death,” Selenka said on a growl. “But Ivo, he has scars not so different from yours.” Fingers caressing his jaw. “You took care of one of ours, Ethan, and because you did, Ivo will probably sleep tonight instead of waking with nightmares.”
Blaise groaned again, his eyelids fluttering. Hauling the male up so his back was against the side of the car, his arms tied behind him and his ankles lashed in front, Ethan then stood watch, ready to take him down the instant he became a threat.
Selenka didn’t crouch down to speak to him. Feet set apart, she stared down at Blaise as he focused on her with eyes boiling with rage. “I’ll have you prosecu
ted for this!” were the first words out of his mouth. “You animals can’t go around attacking innocent civilians.”
“Since you seem to have forgotten, Blaise,” Selenka drawled, “you’re an animal, too. So was your sister. Now she’s just cold, decomposing flesh.”
Blaise’s face chilled. “You’re lying. Nomi! Nomi!” When it was silence alone that greeted his cries, he screamed. “Murderers!”
Selenka leaned down and slapped him. Just once. Very hard. With claws scraping lines across his cheek.
The noise cut off, but the rage continued to boil.
“You attempted to kill my mate and one of my lieutenants,” she said. “Why?”
“You’re going to take the word of a Psy assassin over one of your own kind?” Blaise spit on the ground. “No wonder your father is ashamed to have you as a daughter.”
“Make up your mind, Blaise. Either you’re one of us or we’re filthy animals.” Selenka raised an eyebrow. “And yes, I’ll take my mate’s word over that of a man who murdered one of mine.”
The flicker of satisfaction was fast, there one second and gone the next, but Selenka caught it. Snarling, she struck out with a clawed hand . . . only to bring her claws to a stop a bare millimeter from the wet ball of Blaise’s left eye. Perspiration scented the air, his fear acrid. It gave her no satisfaction. Emanuel was still dead, and for what?
“You don’t get to die easy,” she whispered silkily. “I’m going to give you to Emanuel’s parents and brother.” Taking vengeance for their son and brother was the only thing she could give them to assuage their pain—maybe humans would find it barbaric, but she wasn’t human and neither were they.
“Bitch.”
Selenka held up a hand when she felt Ethan stir. “Yes, I am. A deadly bitch who is going to raze Haven’s Disciples down to the foundations and wipe your name from history.” She smiled as he jerked toward her, as if wanting to headbutt her. “It’s pathetic, really, how small and weak you truly are—so weak that you had to kill with a weapon instead of your claws, and had to manipulate children to do your dirty work.”
Blaise snapped. “You think you’re so wonderful. Selenka Durev, granddaughter of Yevgeni Durev. Such an honorable lineage. Do you ever ask your grandfather about the friend he shoved out into the cold to cover his own ass? Do you ever wonder where your grandfather gets the money for all these trips he takes with his mate?”
Selenka stared at Blaise. “Andriy Golyas,” she said slowly. “I see it now, in the shape of your face, the color of your eyes. I saw a photo of your father a long time ago.” It had been after her grandfather stepped down, when he took her through the pack’s history.
She could still remember the dual lines of anger and pain on his face as he told her the full story of the packmate of his who’d been a highly qualified accountant, the perfect person to help Yevgeni and his lieutenants maneuver a growing pack’s finances. Andriy Golyas was guilty of many crimes—including fracturing a part of Yevgeni Durev’s generous and loyal heart.
Yet because the crimes had all been financial, with Andriy not taking enough to affect the physical health of his packmates, her grandfather had followed unwritten pack law and imposed a sentence of expulsion instead of execution. BlackEdge wolves rarely demanded blood for nonphysical crimes.
“Andriy didn’t have a son when he was exiled from the pack,” Selenka murmured. “He didn’t have any children.”
“He met my mother after he was kicked out of the pack.” Blaise’s face was red, his words like bullets. “We had to scrape by alone because no pack would take us. Your grandfather badmouthed him all over the world.”
“My grandfather simply answered questions when asked. As I would if another pack asked me if an exile was safe to have in the pack.” Selenka couldn’t imagine spending an entire life nursing hate, and yet this was what Blaise and Nomani had done. “Your father not only embezzled from his own people after being given a position of great trust, he betrayed his alpha over and over again.”
“Lies!” Blaise wrenched against his bonds. “Lies! Your grandfather took the money and put the blame on him!”
“Blaise, I don’t know what Andriy told you, what poison he fed you, but the pack brought in a neutral human auditing team to do the accounts in the aftermath.” Yevgeni had given them full access to all records and then left them alone to do their job. “Your father blew tens of thousands of pack funds on high-class escorts.”
“My father was a good man! A blessed man! A man of God!”
Selenka twisted her mouth. “There are plenty of wolves still alive who know the truth and will give it to you—but I don’t think you’re interested in the truth. I just want to know one thing: why did you kill Emanuel?”
Having obviously decided that he had nothing to lose, Blaise bared his teeth. “BlackEdge took everything my father loved. Why should you be happy?” A harsh laugh. “At least your father despises you. That’ll delight me for the rest of my life.”
Ethan’s light power burned, wanting out, wanting to eliminate the threat of Blaise. He held it back with sheer force of will. He was the knight, he repeated to himself. Selenka was the queen. A queen who had made her decision. Taking out her phone, she walked away into the trees—after stopping by Margo for a short discussion.
When Blaise tried to taunt Ethan into a conversation, Ethan burned an X onto his cheek. It was a deliberate choice on his part—Blaise was a man well aware of his looks and proud of them.
Eyes red with fury, Blaise nonetheless got the message and shut up.
Selenka said nothing about the new mark when she returned. “Emanuel’s parents and brother have accepted the vengeance due to them.” Her tone was merciless. “They’ve asked to hunt you to the death. You will know fear and pain and helplessness before you leave this earth. It will never be enough to make up for the murder of a wolf worth a hundred of you, but it will be justice.”
Blaise hissed at her . . . and the area around his body began to shimmer.
A glance from his mate and Ethan hit the male with his light. Blaise slumped, the shift stopping before it began. Selenka looked impassively at the cult leader. “What did he think? That he’d escape me in wolf form?”
“The man has delusions of power.”
Selenka’s expression didn’t change. “I have to drop him off at a particular spot. I’ll see you afterward.”
“I’ll find you.” The mating bond was bruised with her pain, but she needed to be alpha right now, and he needed to back her up. But he’d hold her before this night was out, and he’d remind her that trust wasn’t always betrayed, and people didn’t always let you down.
Instead of leaving right then, Selenka turned to Kiev Durev, who was sitting on the ground in a fog of shock. “You were disloyal to your pack and your alpha,” she said flatly. “Those actions led to the presence of an enemy in our lands and to the death of one of our own. At which point, you sought to hide your disloyalty instead of helping the pack find the killer.”
Kiev Durev’s hands shook as he rubbed his face. “I didn’t know. I swear it.”
“Your vows are meaningless.” The words were cut from glass, each one a razor-sharp shard. “Emanuel’s family doesn’t want your head—they’re more merciful than I would be in their place and I think they do this for their alpha, even though I made it clear execution was on the table.”
Because, Ethan understood, her packmates loved her and not even for their own vengeance would they put her in the position of having to execute her father. That she’d been willing to do it would be enough for them . . . and was crushing for Kiev Durev. For the first time, the man looked broken.
“But,” Selenka continued, “they never want to see your face again and neither do I. You may remain a member of BlackEdge, but you are banished from den territory. Your actions will be made known to the pack and your possessions delivered to your
office. Should you attempt to enter den territory, you will be executed on sight.”
Kiev’s face was a white sheet. “I’ll be an outcast. Selen—”
“You do not ever address me as anything but Alpha Durev.”
Swallowing, Kiev said, “What will I do? I’m a wolf. How can I live without pack?”
“At least you get to live. Be thankful for that.” A hunting wolf in her voice. “Grandfather showed mercy in allowing Andriy to live and it ended in blood—and will cause him pain he does not deserve. I have the veto of an alpha, can end you now regardless of anyone else’s wishes, but Grandfather and Grandmother will mourn you even if you are not worth a single tear—and so I will bow to the wishes of Emanuel’s family and allow you to continue breathing.”
With that, she turned on her heel and didn’t look back, a queen who had made a brutal judgment and would not flounder . . . not even when Ethan could feel the blood dripping from the grievous wounds on her heart.
Chapter 41
Changeling justice is brutal in its honesty. We humans love to call it barbaric, but is it not more barbaric for a proven murderer to walk free because of a legal loophole?
—Editorial by Oceane Vargas for The San Francisco Gazette (January 2082)
SELENKA FELT NO pity for Blaise when she dropped his semiconscious body in a small forest clearing, only a hot, primal satisfaction. Emanuel’s parents and Vadem weren’t stupid and had no intention of allowing Blaise to escape—she could scent them on the air, knew they were in the trees already.
This was also deep in the pack’s territory. The chance he’d slip out was close to nil, but Emanuel’s friends had weighted things in his family’s favor even further by ringing the entire area. Most of those friends were powerful dominants—including Gregori and Artem.
Blaise would not survive this night.
As she cut the ties at his wrists and ankles, Blaise came awake enough to say, “Barbaric animal.”
“I’m at peace with who I am.” She wasn’t her father, to want to be something other—Selenka Durev was a changeling wolf and would go to her grave proud to be a changeling wolf. “You could’ve come to this pack and been accepted as one of our own. Did your father tell you that?”
