by Gaja J. Kos
“You are sworn to me as I am sworn to you.” His voice commanded the room. “As long as you are loyal and wish no harm to me or to my court, as long as you do not counter my commands, you have my protection. Even if it claims my life.”
As the words uncurled through the air, then dissipated, the ritual’s hold over me broke.
I staggered, and Breccan caught me with one hand around my waist, then gently lowered me into the armchair.
“Rest now, Crina. And when you feel well enough, Arista will show you to your chambers.”
He hadn’t been exaggerating when he said chambers.
My apartment within the palace basically matched his in size, and although I didn’t have a perfect grasp of the layout just yet, I had a feeling they were adjacent. I liked my small place in Ljubljana, but I had to admit a demon could certainly get used to this. There was even a small gym hidden behind one of the many double-winged doors, and a communal sparring chamber that bordered on the public part of the building—just on the other side.
Arista informed me the place was more often than not first come first serve, though Breccan, of course, could impose a schedule if he wanted to. Or kick anyone out in the middle of their workout.
I held back a chuckle at the image and nodded in understanding, though I doubted I would be spending a lot of my time here. I was still new to the court—a court I’d previously robbed of a life or three. While I suspected Breccan hadn’t gone around advertising my former job, my face had never been a well-guarded secret.
Yelena hadn’t particularly cared who knew what I looked like since they never saw me coming anyway.
As soon as Arista left me alone after a quick tour, I used the gateway within my new study to get my ass to the mortal world. I didn’t linger, just stayed for long enough to grab some necessities, then hurried back. The sooner I finished this, the better.
I brewed myself a fresh cup of coffee, stalked into the airy living room with a gorgeous view of the courtyard, and phoned Simon.
“Fuck, Crin, I’ve been calling you,” was the warm greeting he hurtled my way when he picked up on the first ring.
I winced. “I saw your missed calls—”
“All thirty-two of them?”
“Sorry, man. Things got…” I plopped down on the loveseat, set my mug on the table, then ran the fingers of my free hand through my hair. “Sorry.” I curled my legs under me. “I should have let you know I was all right.”
“Yeah, you should have.” He sighed. “Look, I know I’m extracting cash from you, but you’re still my friend, Crina. You fucking scared me.”
The hurt, the vulnerability in his voice had me blinking away tears. “I know.”
“When I couldn’t get ahold of you, I monitored the hospitals and morgue. I saw—”
“My father?”
“Beheaded.”
“Yeah, the beheading part was my fault.” I took a sip of my coffee and told him everything that had gone down.
Once I was done, the beats of silence that pulsed between us were not one of speechlessness, but of quiet musing. I let Simon mull over the information, almost seeing that brain of his work through the problems as if he were tackling a nasty piece of code.
“You think Reiner was behind the restaurant shooting, too?” he asked after a while.
I lay on my back, head flat against the cushion and let my gaze absentmindedly trace the decorative contours adorning the high ceiling.
“He kind of looks like the prime suspect, doesn’t he?” My laugh was humorless. A touch bitter, even. “Apparently fucking me over is way better than plain old fucking me.”
Wisely, Simon didn’t comment on that.
Just as the situation veered dangerously into the pity-party territory, he said, “I can try to run down all of Reiner’s addresses. It might take a while, but I’ll flush him out.”
“And Sacred Skies?”
A wheezing breath met my question.
“I pulled together a file on David Lebar after your little break-in.” Simon’s fingers tapped against the keyboard in the background. “I figured it wouldn’t hurt to start running a sort of database of your marks.”
I rolled onto my side and braced myself on my elbow. “Noticed they tended to be repeat offenders?”
“Those you don’t kill straight away, yeah.” He huffed, though the sound was laced with mirth. “I can send it over to you. There are a couple of personal addresses, and schematics to every safe he owns in case Reiner already handed over the amulet and the bastard is stashing it somewhere. Oh, I also found your mystery man.”
“Really?” I stood, grabbed the empty mug from the table, and wandered back towards the kitchen. At the rate I was going, I would need to have a coffeemaker installed in every damn room. “We finally have a name?”
“Yeah. Robert Ensar. Human, though not exactly your run-of-the-mill-vanilla variety.”
I fumbled with the percolator. “What do you mean?”
“Vamp father.” My cell buzzed as Simon’s info hit my inbox. “He didn’t take the old hunter route, though.”
No one knew why a vampire’s kid sometimes turned out to be some sort of superhero, extra-skilled human instead of a vamp like them. But their vocation was usually a straightforward affair.
Hunting down the fanged pricks who gave their kin a bad name.
“So Ensar decided to use his skill set for a different line of work…” I rinsed my cup with one hand, then rested my butt against the counter. “Strong enough to hold off any rivals if things get physical, with intimate knowledge of the supernatural to boot. He must have been a hit in the pre-War times.”
Simon chuckled. “He was. But also smart enough to keep a low profile.”
“You sent his file along with the rest of it?”
“Yep.”
“Thanks, Simon.”
I nearly ended the call when his voice shot through the speaker.
“Crina…”
“Yeah?”
“You owe me several drinks for the shit you put me through.”
A smile softened my lips. “You bet, love.”
Although I’d taken my portable, battery-powered USB printer with me, I discovered there was one already installed in the study—coupled with a state of the art desktop computer. I couldn’t help but laugh when I realized there was even some sort of Wi-Fi thingy active within the manor walls. Simon would have a fucking blast if he laid his eyes on it.
While for some reason cell phones worked just fine in the Shadow World ever since the War, internet was a different matter. The connection Breccan put up wasn’t a direct link, but, from what I could tell, a bridge. That hooked up to another bridge, then another, and, finally, merged with the internet of the mortal world.
Porn sites were definitely out of the question given it could only load the basics like email and fundamental searches, but I had to give it to Breccan. He really was a step ahead from the rest of the Shadow World.
Which was only that much more surprising when I remembered he wasn’t just a lord, but the oldest of them all.
Though after seeing what he could do in bed, ancient really wasn’t a fitting word for him.
I printed then spread the case files on the ground before me. With my obligatory steaming cup of coffee by my side, I sat cross-legged among the papers and started the grueling task of elimination.
Assuming Reiner had delivered—which he more than likely did if Robert Ensar was at Hieraven’s house with him—there was just one thing that mattered. Where would Lebar hide an artifact that had left a trail of bodies in its wake once he had it in his hands?
Would he hide it? Flaunt it?
Who knew with these slimy types just how much of a brain resided in their skulls…
But I was certain of one thing—he would want to keep his new possession safe.
I eliminated the houses Lebar didn’t frequent regularly and were a bit out of the way first. The witch amulet was too valuable for him to keep at a l
ocation it took more than a couple of hours by car to reach. A few others I wrote off for their lack of security or proximity to areas where other crime bosses reigned.
In the end, I narrowed my selection down to two estates and his office.
The vault at Sacred Skies’s HQ was secure, but the longer I stared at its schematics, the more my gut crooned that wasn’t it. The amulet wasn’t something Lebar would share, and it hadn’t escaped my notice that the lock on the safe was key-coded. Not a singular retina or power scan those who wanted access only for themselves usually opted for.
If I’d paid someone a hefty sum to procure a valuable—and Reiner’s involvement was anything but cheap—I wouldn’t want anyone else near it.
Which left the two estates.
One was a smaller, more private affair, the other lavish and sprawling atop a hill with enough security to make my atoms tingle.
Either of them could be the key.
I blew out a breath and rubbed my eyes, then nearly toppled over when I noticed Breccan was standing on the other side of the strewn papers. He studied the documents with his head slightly inclined to the side, an unreadable expression on his face.
“You’re going after Sacred Skies?”
Chapter 23
Denying that I wanted to burn the filth that was the CEO of Sacred Skies would be useless.
Breccan saw the folders, the schematics. There was no way I could write this off as anything less than what it was.
Shit, I hadn’t even considered the conflict of interest before…
With the lengths Breccan had gone to so that none of the illegal activities aimed at Sacred Skies would be traced back to him, my pending involvement couldn’t be a welcome development. I was, after all, his subject now.
A subject who, inadvertently, represented his wishes.
I glanced up at his towering form. Was he here because he’d suspected I’d go after the people responsible for Vuyasin’s death?
Given that our pillow talk had covered everything that had gone down at Hieraven’s house in the mortal realm, the connection between Sacred Skies and the slaughter wasn’t exactly a secret.
Magic stirred in my core as we stared at one another over the paper moat of incriminating evidence. I’d hate to break my vow on the first day, but if Breccan gave the command to leave David Lebar and his cronies alone, there was no fucking way I was obeying.
His power rose in response to mine. “I can’t be tied to this. Not”—he lifted his hand, sealing off my objection—“directly.”
He prowled forward to the uneven edge of the printouts, mismatched eyes boring into mine. “Crina, I understand your need to go after them. After the amulet they murdered your father for.”
“I can’t leave it in their hands.”
“No, you can’t.”
I cocked my head to the side and smoothed the paper I’d trampled under my foot thanks to Breccan’s unexpected entrance. My fingers fumbled with the small rip running along the right-hand side. “You know something about it?”
“Only what you told me earlier.” A shadow passed over his face. He dropped down into an elegant, effortless squat. “But it’s enough for me to agree the amulet can’t remain with someone who had no qualms bringing down an entire plane of people just to give his business an advantage.”
My magic calmed. As did my heart. “So I have your approval?”
“You do. But you can’t leave any evidence. Or survivors.”
I looked him straight in the eye and nodded. “Consider it done.”
It would require a few adjustments to my plan, but I couldn’t say I was by any means bothered by it. Not with the free pass—no, order—to kill.
For an assassin, a green light like that was the absolute best of circumstances we could hope for.
A ghost of a lopsided smile tugged on Breccan’s lips. He rose, but motioned me to remain seated. “Wait for me.”
Before I could reply, he blasted himself into atoms. I’d barely read through another page when he returned, something resembling a ticket resting in his outstretched hand.
Curious, I plucked it from between his fingers. Magic prickled at my skin. I hissed and lost my grip, but at the very last moment before it would have fluttered away, I snatched the rectangular card back.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Breccan watching me with shielded amusement.
“Thanks for the heads-up,” I mumbled, though my attention belonged entirely to the energy.
Not a threat, but a dormant, harmless thing.
I flipped the invitation over. Every bit of surface my fingers touched tingled the same way.
“This isn’t exactly a plain old invitation, is it?” I looked up at Breccan, one eyebrow arched.
Mirth warmed his eyes, but didn’t breach the calm, if hardened, exterior befitting a demon lord he’d settled into.
“The card is imbued with magic to prevent forgeries. I had my spies obtain one when you refused the job.”
It was then that the address written in block, elegant letters registered.
David Lebar’s lavish estate.
Well, well, well…
I suppressed a smile. “You planned to infiltrate his house?”
“If you hadn’t taken the job, this would have been my best way in.”
Given that all the relevant documents were in the safe at Sacred Skies’s HQ, not at the manor, I suspected the party would have ended in a nice little bout of torture to extract the needed info. I had to admit, I liked his style.
“And now?” I asked.
A corner of Breccan’s mouth quirked up. “The invitation is yours. Everybody who’s anybody will be at that party. And I don’t mean socialites.”
“His associates.” I nodded and ran my thumb across the magic-laced surface. “Current and those he’s trying to win over, I presume?”
“You presume correctly.” Breccan crossed his arms in front of his chest, but the way he did it spoke of amused smugness, not backing off. His energy curled around me. “Depending on how hard Lebar is willing to impress them, I assume he’ll be keeping the amulet close. Just in case.”
Gods, he was so… There wasn’t even a word in existence for the change that settled upon him as mischief played with his eyes, as his entire demeanor turned from full-out demon lord to an utterly fuckable bad boy who hadn’t lost his link with the inner bandit child. A twisted kind of innocence I hadn’t known existed.
Or could be so damn attractive.
Fuck, if I didn’t want to be his partner in breaking all. The. Rules.
My instincts roared to leap over the papers and crush my mouth to his, but I refrained. This—this easiness between us—it was good, too. I’d hate to ruin it because of a moment’s excitement.
“Come with me,” Breccan said, the mirth that had been so evident only moments ago replaced by something guarded I couldn’t quite puzzle out.
He leaned over and took my hand, steadying me as I crossed the intel-moat. An easy leap I could have done on my own, though I was grateful for the contact.
“Regardless of what I said earlier, I do care for you, Crina. Even if things between us will never go further than this.”
Puzzled by the sudden change of subject, I only dipped my chin and fell in step with him. Breccan led me into the airy sitting-room-library hybrid that opened up just beyond the next threshold, then guided us both to the sleek black couch. He didn’t let go of my hand.
“I cannot give you the bond of mates. But if you are willing to accept the commitment, I can bond us.”
A frown creased my forehead. I looked from our entwined fingers to his mismatched eyes. “The only other bond I know of is that between a slave and their master. Now, I don’t mind you dominating me in the bedroom, but I have no desire to be a twenty-four-seven slave.”
For a moment, Breccan just looked at me, then the entire room filled with his roaring laughter. The warm sound chased away the heaviness that had cloaked him earlier, his shoul
ders relaxing. He shook his head and kissed me.
His mouth worked gently against mine, and I could feel the smile dancing upon his lips long before I saw it once he pulled away. “I have no desire to make you a slave, amāyō. You submit beautifully when I want you to.”
Heat pooled between my thighs. I crossed my legs, the leather creaking beneath me, though judging by the hunger that flashed in Breccan’s eyes, I hadn’t fooled him.
Well, shit. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know full well how that mouth of his could disarm me.
“The bond I’m proposing is something few demons know of.”
My brows rose. “Is it some sort of secret cult thing?”
“Secret, yes.” He smiled and rubbed his thumb against my skin. “Cult, no. Those of us who are among the oldest once used it with individuals we trusted the most. People we loved—in the broadest of terms. Consorts, friends, even generals we valued with our very lives… But as word of the link spread, it came to our attention that it could also be abused. And, more importantly, dangerous. Enough humans were already enslaved, and we had our mating bond. Demonkind did not need a third, especially not one so…broad.”
“Wait.” I gripped his hand tighter. “Are you implying it could be used even outside our species?”
Aside from the connection between mates, no demon could establish a bond of equals. Even less so if the second party was not our kin. But what surprised me even more was the fact that I’d never even heard of such a thing.
Shadow World denizens knew how to keep a secret—well, most of the time, at least. But the rest of those chatterboxes out in the mortal lands? Big fucking nope.
There should have been some whispers, rumors…something.
Breccan leaned sideways against the curved backrest—closer to me, not away. “The bond could be established with anyone. It was a thing of beauty, to share it. To be able to protect those we cherished. Unfortunately, we learned that even if the intent was pure, good…” He hesitated, his chest still for a too-long moment before he exhaled. “We discovered that if we established too many connections, we…faded.”
