by Quinn Loftis
“The high fae,” Tenia continued, pulling Myanin’s attention back to her, helping her ignore the fact that the Great Luna had just spoken into her mind, “have records of every fae’s ability. Alston knew. And as soon as he revealed himself to be a traitor, he came for me. He took the one thing that would make me compliant. My child.”
Myanin could hear the pain in the fae’s voice and saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. She really hoped the female didn’t start crying. Myanin didn’t know what to do with tears. It angered her that Alston was using a child, like he had with the wolves, to control Tenia, but her anger didn’t inspire tears. It inspired action.
“Has he hurt the child?” Myanin asked, unable to keep the resentment from her voice. She may have done something unspeakable, but she would never hurt a child.
Tenia shook her head. “I’ve complied. I made the healer go with us to be tortured by Alston, and she doesn’t even know. She has no clue I manipulated her. That night, I felt so bad I vomited until there was nothing left inside of me.” A tear rolled down her cheek, and she hastily wiped it away. “Sally, that’s her name. She’s innocent. She’s done nothing wrong, and I forced her to want to go away from her mate and child, so that my child wouldn’t be harmed. What kind of person does that make me?”
Myanin could practically feel the pain, the disgust, radiating off the fae. Tenia was breaking inside and trying desperately to hold it together. “Why can’t you make Alston or the others do what you want?” Myanin knew there had to be an exception to her gift. There always was.
“There’s one type of supernatural I can’t control. The draheim.”
And there it was.
“Some of the draheim have joined with the Order, and they’ve protected the members of the Order with their own magic. It’s an extension of themselves. It’s actually quite remarkable, and probably the only person aware that they were capable of this feat was your history keeper.”
Myanin clenched her teeth at the mention of Thad. Again, why couldn’t he have done something? Wasn’t there an exception to their rule prohibiting interference? “I’m sorry,” Myanin said softly. “I feel like we should have done something. We sit inside our realm doing nothing while the history keeper knows everything.”
“After the fact,” Tenia added.
“That doesn’t matter,” Myanin snapped. “He knew. He could have alerted someone. Hell, he knew the Order was organizing itself once again, and yet he said nothing.” Who are you to judge? the Great Luna asked. You, who are as guilty as the next. Can you really see past the plank in your own eye to the splinter in another’s? What was she supposed to say to that?
“There are rules for a reason.” Tenia implored. “Boundaries are a good thing.”
“Until they’re not,” Myanin argued. “Sometimes boundaries have to be crossed, especially if it protects the innocent.”
“You feel very strongly about this, and yet guilt fills your eyes, Myanin,” Tenia said, her voice firm yet gentle. “What demons are chasing you?”
“Your child is currently in the clutches of the Order, and you want to know of my demons?” Myanin scoffed even as she cursed the ones who wouldn’t leave her in peace. What peace? You would have none even if Lyra and the Great Luna weren’t pursuing you.
Tenia shrugged. “Maybe I just want to know I’m not alone in my suffering.”
Myanin understood. How many times had she wanted to know that she wasn’t the only person with a shattered heart? How many times had she wanted someone else to feel as crushed as she did? Hell, she’d made it happen when she’d snuffed out the life of her elder. She crushed someone else beneath the heel of her own boot because of her own wounds. Would she really begrudge the damaged mother this? “I committed a crime against my people, against the man I loved and the woman he loved,” she began. Then, much to her surprise, she poured out the whole tale, sordid details and all. It was as if Lyra’s magic compelled her lips to move as she recounted her sins, laying her soul bare before a woman whose only transgression, if it could be called that, was assisting the Order to save her child. Talk about humiliation.
Tenia was silent as she stared at Myanin. Her eyes were wide, but Myanin didn’t see judgment there. “I wasn’t expecting that,” Tenia admitted.
“I’m sure,” Myanin said, the disgust at herself not masked in her voice, at the same time the server arrived with their drinks and food. They ate for a few minutes, not saying anything. Myanin thought about what she’d told Tenia and had to admit she felt a small burden lifted from her shoulders. Telling someone about the most horrible things she’d done in her life was freeing.
“You said, ‘was angry’ and ‘loved him’—both past tense,” Tenia said as she wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Does that mean you’ve had a change of heart?”
Myanin narrowed her eyes on the fae. “Do you have another ability? Are you able to read people or pick up a small amount of what they’re feeling?”
Tenia’s lips turned up in a small smile. “It doesn’t take a supernatural gift to read your face. You don’t show much emotion … until you do. And when that happens, it’s pretty clear.” She quickly followed with, “Don’t worry, you haven’t revealed anything to Alston, Ludcarab, or Cain. Your badass djinn persona is completely in place when you’re at the compound. But the more we’ve talked, the more your eyes and expressions have changed.”
Myanin examined her thoughts and even her heart. Once again she remembered the Great Luna showing up in the Order’s meeting and the words the goddess had spoken into her mind. Was there still hope for her? If so, did she really want it? It would mean letting go of her mission. Before she’d lost her standing with her people, her purpose had been to be a warrior. Now, it was vengeance. What was her purpose if she abandoned the course she was on? The questions left her feeling shaken. She hadn’t realized until Tenia asked that her once-solid resolve had already begun to have slivers in it. The thick wall she had erected around herself was being worn down by the constant bombardment of her victim, her Creator, and her own guilt.
“I can’t tell you how to feel,” Tenia said when Myanin didn’t answer her question. Tenia set her spoon down and took a drink before she continued. “But I can tell you that if you hold onto that hate and rage, it will eat you from the inside out. I know because I see it in Alston, Ludcarab, and others in the Order. Their hate toward the humans have warped them into monsters who don’t care who they destroy to get what they want. They have hardened their hearts beyond repair. They will never be able to feel even an ounce of remorse for what they’ve done or what they are going to do.”
Myanin heard the words, but she wasn’t ready to examine them. She’d reached her limit of self-reflection for the moment. And she’d said more than enough already on the subject, and the djinn was beginning to feel restless.
“Speaking of the innocent,” she referenced back to Tenia’s words about the healer, efficiently changing the subject, “where are we going to get these humans we’re supposed to deliver to Cain?”
Tenia’s face changed immediately. The concerned look was gone and in its place was rage.
A lightbulb flicked in Myanin’s head. “That’s why Alston sent you.” Alston hadn’t only sent Tenia with Myanin so they could flash. It was because Tenia could make the human’s want to go with them. Her ability could keep the humans from fighting or become mindless drones. They wouldn’t draw any attention at all.
Tenia nodded. “And he knows I will do it, too. I will sacrifice others’ lives to keep my child safe. I’ll worry about what that means for my conscience later.”
“Children are precious,” Myanin said. “Every supernatural race knows that. The fact that Ludcarab and Alston are willing to exploit them is disgusting.”
“I agree,” Tenia said. “But unless you’re prepared to use your power and destroy hundreds of thousands of innocents, and I’m not willing to piss off Alston and have him send a draheim to eat me, we’re kind of stuck. I assume
you will keep your power contained, no matter what?”
Myanin nodded. “Boundaries and all that,” she muttered.
“Then we have to play their game. For now.” Tenia took another drink. “I’ve been thinking about the humans and where we could get them. Supernaturals don’t keep large quantities of prisoners, but humans do.”
Myanin’s brow rose. Tenia was right about supernatural beings rarely keeping prisoners. Why would they? Usually, if a supernatural did something wrong, it was too dangerous to keep them around. Their power had to be controlled. Their kind couldn’t tolerate loose cannons running around risking exposure to the human population. The fae—the supernatural police, so to speak—were usually the ones to take care of the issue, unless the leader of the race involved wanted to deal with it, in which case a high fae had to be present to make sure the sentencing was carried out.
“The people in the human prisons are bad … mostly. We could use them.”
“So, you want us to take mostly evil humans and make them more evil, then put them in the hands of even more evil supernaturals?” Myanin asked.
Tenia frowned. “When you put it like that it sounds like a terrible plan.”
Chapter 5
“Can a person be so broken, so shattered, that their pieces cannot be put back together again? What if the emotional pain is too great for their mind to handle? What about the rest of us? Those forced to watch it happen? What are we supposed to do?” ~Jacque
It was difficult, but Jacque refrained from throwing her cell phone across the room. She’d called her mom no less than a hundred times over the past few weeks. Lilly hadn’t answered. Not one … single … time. Jacque understood that her mother was hurting. She shook her head. No, she didn’t understand, not really. And it wasn’t fair of her to even say she did. Jacque still had her mate, and if she lost him, then she went with him. Such was the law of the Canis lupus. There would be no separation from Fane, ever. Her mom wasn’t so lucky. She had lost two men she loved. Jacque couldn’t even begin to imagine the heartbreak.
“I just wish she’d talk to me!” Jacque yelled at the empty room. “I need to hear her voice.”
The door to the suite suddenly flew open, bounced off the wall, and closed itself again. A second later, it was pushed open slowly by a huge arm. Jen stumbled in past the arm, which was attached to her mate, who was glaring down at her.
“Please go easy on the door, Jennifer. I’m the one who will have to fix any holes you put in the wall,” grumbled Decebel.
“You could use some practice working with your hands,” she replied.
“That’s not what you said last… You know what? I’m not even going to take the bait this time.”
Jen rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Jacque. “I could hear your voice all the way down the hall, Red.” She marched up to her friend.
Jacque looked up at her blonde BFF, and tears ran down her cheeks.
Jen’s take-no-prisoner demeanor changed in the blink of an eye as she sat down next to Jacque and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her tight. “She’s going to be okay,” Jen said softly. “Your mom is one of the strongest people in the world. And she loves you, but she also knows that you have Fane and the rest of us with you. She knows you’re taken care of.”
“But why won’t she let us take care of her, too?” Jacque hiccupped as she cried. “That’s what pack is for. The warlocks may be her people, but we’re her family.”
“We are,” Jen agreed.
“But they are as well,” Decebel said. Jacque had almost forgotten he was still there. “If Lilly allows it, this loss will bind her to the warlock clans. But if it isn’t handled correctly, then it could divide her from them permanently. She has to stand on her own two feet. She’s smart enough to know that and you are, too.”
Jacque did know that. But it didn’t change the fact that she longed to see her mom and hug her as tightly as she could. And it didn’t help Jacque’s emotional state that she was so tired. Her mate, through no fault of his own, couldn’t be much comfort. Fane had been extremely busy dealing with pack members who were worried about their future. There were rumors that some of them were considering challenging him for alpha, which Decebel had simply laughed about. His dismissiveness had made Jacque feel a little less worried. But the fears for her mom were still in the back of her mind, constantly gnawing at her. Jacque had no idea how to help her.
Decebel walked over and sat in the chair beside the love seat, his body turned toward her and Jen. He rested his forearms on his legs and met Jacque’s eyes. After a few seconds, he dropped them. Jacque knew it was out of respect, not because she was actually more dominant than him. Decebel had been a loyal beta to Vasile and Alina. He’d promised to be just as loyal to Fane and Jacque. “You have to let her grieve the way she needs to,” he said gently.
Jacque wiped her cheeks and nodded. “I know. I really do. But it’s not easy to sit here and wonder what she’s going through.”
“Red,” Jen said, giving her a squeeze, “you know I’m with you. You want to storm into the warlock stronghold and demand to see the queen? I’ll gear up, we’ll paint our faces green, because”—she shrugged—“why the hell not? And we will take out anyone who keeps her from us.”
“Why green?” Jacque asked at the same time Decebel said, “No you won’t.”
“Ignore him,” Jen waved him off. “Green because we’ll be traipsing through the forest to get to the warlock mountain. It’s always been you, me, and Sally. And it always will be.”
“What’s always been us?” Sally’s voice came from behind Jacque.
She turned to see Sally and Costin walking in. Sally’s brown eyes were large and eager.
“Are we doing something?” the healer asked as she took a seat next to Jacque. “Jen looks like she’s cooking up a plan.”
“Please, no.” Costin sighed, sounding so miserable Jacque almost laughed.
“I’ve told her no,” Decebel said.
Costin huffed. “And when has that ever stopped them?”
“It’s worked a few times,” Decebel muttered.
“A few times out of hundreds? That isn’t enough to declare a victory with these three.”
Sally completely ignored her mate and turned back to Jen. “What are we doing?”
“Storming warlock mountain and demanding to see their queen so Red can feel better,” Jen explained.
Jacque pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. “As much as I’d actually like to go along with Jen’s plan, which tells you how desperate I am, I have to agree with Dec on this.”
“Traitor.” Jen flung herself against the couch cushions. “A distraction would have been nice.”
Jacque understood Jen’s reaction. They were in a mourning period, but it felt as though the entire pack was a flock of sitting ducks. They were accustomed to action, not idleness. No one spoke, as if they all thought the same thing. Simply sitting and waiting was not something they did well.
A moment later, a heavy surge of power flooded the room.
“Dude has got to learn to reel that crap in,” Jen grunted.
Jacque watched as every head in the room except hers bowed, not of their own will. Her mate stood in the doorway. Power seemed to emanate from the very pores in his flesh. When he was feeling emotional, she’d noticed, it was difficult for him to reign all of that power in, and this is what happened.
He stalked toward her and then knelt down, gently cupping her face in his hand. It was amazing to her that he had so much strength but could be so tender when it came to her and Slate.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “I could feel your distress through our bond.”
He’d been feeling a lot of distress through their bond lately. Any time he thought it was too much, if they weren’t together, he would come find her and check on her, even if she’d already told him through their bond she was fine. Jacque always felt guilty when that happened because he already had so muc
h on his plate. He didn’t need her burdening him with more.
His jaw clenched as he leaned forward until their heads touched. “You are never a burden. Never. Please don’t think that.”
She nodded slowly. “Okay,” her voice was soft as she reached up her hand and placed it over his. “I’m fine.” She paused and then shook her head. “That’s a lie. I’m not fine, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“We can go to your mother, Jacquelyn,” he told her for no less than the hundredth time.
“No,” Jacque answered the same way she’d answered every one of those times. “I don’t want to use your position—”
“Our position,” he corrected. “You are my equal, my Luna.”
Her lips turned up slightly. “Okay, I don’t want to use our position as an excuse to do whatever we want simply because I’m worried about my mom. She’s a grown woman. I have to let her have the time she needs. She’ll contact me when she’s able.” The words tasted like sawdust in her mouth. They were true, but that didn’t mean Jacque had to like them.
Her statement seemed to ease some of Fane’s emotions because the crushing power dissipated.
“Bloody hell, Alpha.” Jen coughed. “No offense, but you’ve got to learn to lock that shit down.”
“Language,” Decebel growled, his own voice sounding as though he was in pain.
“My apologies,” Fane said as his thumb ran across Jacque’s cheek. His eyes were still on hers. “You’re truly okay with this? It wouldn’t be wrong for you to check on her,” he said through their bond.
