The Pact of the White Blade Knights

by Barbara Russell

  Chapter 23

  TYON KEPT HAZEL close while Harrisons and his officers roamed Verna’s apartment. Too many male gazes were wandering towards her for his liking. Even Harrisons’s stare flew to Hazel’s mouth now and then.

  “I guess I don’t have to know how you found the missing letter, am I right?” the detective asked, pacing in the bedroom.

  “You know the rules, Detective.” Tyon’s blood stirred when Hazel shifted closer to him.

  Aleximanus was nowhere to be seen, not wanting to be involved with the police, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t around.

  Harrisons nodded, his bowler hat bobbing back. “It’ll be difficult to keep the press quiet. Journalists are going to love this whole affair, unfortunately.” Another glance at Hazel. A smile stretched his lips. “Madam, I hope the conversation isn’t bothering you.”

  “I’m fine, thank you.” Her voice sounded like music.

  The other two officers in the room turned towards her, stares hot with need. Tyon ground his molars, containing the sudden surge of anger twisting his insides. He trusted Hazel, but her power was her weakness, and her flesh could be tempted.

  Moving a few inches farther to block Hazel’s view from the young men’s stares, he cleared his throat until Harrisons turned his attention back to him. “I need information on Mr Leon Evans. We have reasons to believe”—he waited for the two officers to leave the room—“that he’s committed a crime. I want to know if he owns proprieties around London.”

  The smile vanished from Harrisons’s face. “What type of crime?”

  “I’d like to have more information before disclosing any further detail.”

  The detective’s features didn’t soften. “Tyon, you’ve always helped me in many investigations, and I’ll be eternally grateful to you for what you’ve done for my family, but I need to know more.”

  Tyon leaned closer. “We think Mr Evans killed his wife and daughter and is the West Hampstead Church murderer.”

  All the colour drenched from Harrisons’s face. “These are serious accusations.”

  “Hence my request for information. I wouldn’t want to accuse an innocent man without solid proof.” And I need to find Kaela. If Leon had proprieties around London, one of these places might be where Kaela was kept.

  Harrisons worked his jaw, the bowler hat wobbling again. “I’ll take care of it myself and have a report dispatched to you as soon as possible.”

  “Thank you.” Tyon bowed his head.

  “What are you doing in my house?” a feminine voice bellowed from the door.

  Tyon spun, pushing Hazel behind him, and faced an anger-shaking Verna.

  “You have no right to be here.” She crept farther into the room, but stopped when her gaze lay on the ripped hat and the letter.

  Hazel curled her fingers on his biceps, and he almost cursed as the need to kiss her and the one to focus on Verna clashed.

  Harrisons slid a hand inside his coat. “Miss Verna, I must ask you to follow me to the station—”

  She threw herself at him like a feral cat and shoved him on the floor. Harrisons’s arms flew up as he fell. His head smacked hard against the tile, his eyes rolled into his skull, and he went limp. Footsteps padded in the corridor. The two officers rushed back inside and froze, a hand on their hats.

  Tyon lunged, but Verna shot a hand inside Harrisons’s coat and pulled out an Enfield gun.

  “Stay there.” She straightened and aimed the gun at Harrisons’s temple.

  Tyon held up his palm. “Don’t do anything stupid.” He focused on her head, and her dark, decaying aura exploded in a mass of writhing coils. The mask was gone now, revealing the evil in her soul. He inhaled to taste it. Burned flesh. He didn’t bother eating her sins. They were too many, and he’d waste precious energy. “Lower your gun.”

  “The letter is mine,” she snarled. “Rachel wrote it for me. She wrote it when she belonged to me before she became scared of what she felt.” Verna cocked the hammer, still pressing the muzzle on the temple of the unconscious Harrisons. “Her family wanted her to marry that spineless idiot Reginald even after she told them she didn’t love him. But I could see the changes in her. She didn’t believe in us anymore.” Her voice cracked with a sob. “She didn’t want me anymore.”

  “So you killed her.” Tyon shifted. He could use his extra speed and disarm Verna, but not in front of the two officers. It’d be hard to explain his inhuman performance.

  “I didn’t kill her.” Verna’s face scrunched in disgust. “I freed her. My master said Rachel and I will be together again. Free, happy.”

  “Where’s your master?” he asked with little hope. If Leon was worth his salt as the Hierophant, he must’ve taken precautions.

  She smiled, a crooked smiled that would send chills up the spine in a summer day. “My master will find you, Captain.”

  “Put the gun down,” Tyon said again.

  “I want my bloody letter!” Verna’s hand trembled. The smile was gone. Tears streamed her cheeks.

  Hazel peeked from behind him. Jasmine-scented warmth lifted from her body, and he lost his taut stance as desire flooded him. But her power wasn’t for him.

  Verna’s eyes widened, her cheeks flushed, and her hand slackened. The two officers turned towards Hazel, gaze dark with need, their pistols forgotten at their sides.

  “Lower your gun,” Hazel whispered, her voice pure temptation.

  Verna opened her fingers and let go of the gun, her chest heaving, lips parted in awe.

  The officers obeyed as well and dropped their weapons.

  Tyon had to bite his inner cheek hard to not take Hazel here and now. One inch at a time, he sneaked closer to Verna while Hazel power floated around him. Verna didn’t seem to notice him, her gaze on Hazel who was unbuttoning her shirt. Her lust must’ve taken her over.

  Oh Lord. He’d better be quick before she undressed fully. Pushing his desire down, he pounced and tackled Verna to the floor. She didn’t fight him though and tried to peek over his shoulder towards Hazel.

  She’d almost unbuttoned her shirt completely and was starting to unhook her stay, showing inches of creamy skin. One officer let out a pained groan as he shuffled towards her.

  “Hazel,” Tyon warned. He kicked the gun away and snatched a pair of cuffs from Harrisons’s belt. “Hazel, stop,” he repeated, securing Verna’s wrists.

  She merely glanced at him.

  Hazel’s chemise peeked from her half-opened stay, and Tyon shoved to his feet and pushed the officer aside. “Stop.” He took her shoulders, fighting the urge to kiss her. He couldn’t stop himself from staring at her almost naked breasts though. He had to say something to break the grip lust had on her. And thank goodness her lust wasn’t fully unleashed, or there would be an orgy in the room now. The other officer crept closer, a bulge forming in his trousers. Bloody hell. Even Verna was snaking across the room to reach Hazel.

  “I love you,” Tyon whispered.

  She blinked, her head whipping towards him. Her fingers stopped on the last hooks. The lust impregnating the air dissolved, and its jasmine scent diminished. “I love you, too.”

  He hugged her tightly. The need to take her wasn’t gone, it probably never would, but he’d anchored her. He’d been able to restrain her lust.

  The two officers staggered on their feet and glanced around as if wondering where the hell they were.

  “Secure the perpetrator,” Tyon ordered. “Take the gun.”

  “Yes, sir,” they said together, snapping at attention, and took Verna’s arms.

  She shouted and trashed, scraping her feet on the floor. Words about her master and justice rushed out of her mouth. Her voice faded as the two officers escorted her out. Their footsteps clanked in the foyer.

  Hazel adjusted her clothes. “I feel sorry for her. Is she really evil, or was it Leon’s work?”

  He helped her button her jacket. “Maybe a bit of both. There’s evil inside every one of us. The Hierophant kn
ows how to tease it and make it grow. If Verna was desperate and depressed, fuelling darkness inside her must’ve been easy.” He fastened the last button, but he wanted to undo her shirt again.

  Harrisons groaned, propping himself on his elbows. “What the hell happened?” He scratched his forehead while Verna’s screams echoed from the street.

  “Nothing.” Tyon chuckled. “Everything is under control now, Detective.”

  ~ * ~

  “SO HOW DOES IT WORK?” Hazel twirled Verna’s hat while pacing in Tyon’s office. Not a single vibe came from the plush bonnet. The hallow called to her, but the hat was just another object.

  “You need to hold it while touching the hallow.” Tyon closed his hand around hers, brought it to his lips, and kissed the knuckles. Little whispers of pleasure danced on her skin, but a hint of fear worked its way through the tempting sensation.

  “I’m sorry about what happened in Verna’s house.” The lust had nearly overcome her, choking her. She would’ve started an orgy if it hadn’t been for Tyon. She hated the feeling of not being in her body as if a demon possessed it.

  “What for?” He caressed her cheek. “Without you, Verna would’ve shot Harrisons. You saved him.”

  “But my lust—”

  He kissed her. “Don’t. I was there to help you, and you leashed your power. I’m so proud of you.”

  Love, not lust, swelled her chest. It warmed her in a way lust could never do, in a way no one else but Tyon could. She wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you.”

  He kissed the top of her hair. “Are you ready to try this?”

  She tilted her head up. “What will happen when I touch the hallow while holding the hat? Is it going to be painful?” She’d expected something more complicated than that, some sort of magical ritual involving cauldrons and a sabbath, but it didn’t mean this wouldn’t be harmless.

  His jaw hardened. “I don’t know. It’s the first time I deal with a hallow. All I know is that you and the hallow together are the beacon. Perhaps nothing will happen, and we won’t know if we’ve succeeded until one of my knights feels the call and appears on my threshold. Or maybe you’ll immediately know where to find one of them.”

  She fiddled with a ribbon of the hat. “Fair enough.”

  He released her hand, his fingertips trailing over her skin. “I’ll be right here.”

  She put a hand on the canopy vase. The terracotta felt smooth and warm under her palm. Then she grabbed the hat tighter and closed her eyes. Seconds ticked by. The room remained silent aside from Tyon’s quiet breathing, and Aleximanus pacing somewhere in the house. The occasional shout or loud voice from the street jolted her, but nothing else happened. No big glow of light, vision, or revelation.

  She dug her fingers harder into the hat and the vase. Her lust lurked somewhere in her chest, but wasn’t raging as usual. It wasn’t interfering. Perhaps her transition to sin-breather had ruined her connection with the hallow.

  Her shoulders slumped under the weight of disappointment. The only thing she could give Tyon was helping him find his knights, and it wasn’t work—

  “Who are you?” a deep male voice boomed inside her head.

  She stifled a gasp of surprise. The man was talking in her mind as if standing next to her.

  “You searched for me. Who are you?” he repeated, a hint of annoyance sneaking in.

  “My name is Hazel. I’m with Captain Sebastyon Sancerre now.”

  “Good God. Is that . . . are you using a hallow?”

  “I am.” She shifted. It was odd to have a conversation inside her head. “Are you one of his knights?”

  “I’m Étienne.”

  Étienne, the only other man of the four knights remained. Aside from Aleximanus, that is.

  A long pause stretched. A sharp intake of air filled it. “Where are you?” he asked.

  “London. Come to London, 17 White Church Lane.”

  “I will be there.” The man’s voice now rang with excitement, disbelief, and relief. “Tell the captain”—another pause—“tell the captain—”

  The connection broke. It was like slamming a door closed over a conversation. The hallow must’ve stopped working. Hazel opened her eyes, and the bright light hurt them. The room spun a little as well.

  Tyon scrutinised her, his head tilted to the side. “What happened?”

  “I heard him inside my head. Étienne. He’s coming here.”

  He gripped the edge of the table, broad shoulders hunching. “Étienne.” The word was a mere whisper.

  She released her hold on the hallow and hat and took his hand, ignoring the quick flow of lust. “It worked.”

  “Where is he? When will he be here?”

  “The connection broke before I could ask. But I gave him the address. He’ll find you.” She hugged him. His big body trembled, and she steered him towards the couch. “Sit.”

  “I can’t believe it.” He staggered on his feet, growing pale.

  “Sit, I won’t be able to hold you if you collapse.”

  He did as told and pulled her on his lap. She chuckled, falling on top of him in a heap of skirts. A grin tugged at the corner of his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You found him. You did it.”

  “We did it.” She couldn’t stop herself. She leaned closer and darted her tongue over the rim of his sculpted lips.

  His arms around her tightened as he grazed the tender spot under her jaw. She reclined her head to give him better access. His hand slipped underneath her skirts, a thumb rubbing her knee. Between her thighs, the pulse that never went away throbbed harder. Hot desire pooled in her lower abdomen.

  Tyon’s fingers brushed her inner thigh and found the ties of her drawers. He undid them one by one until he stroked her wet folds. Little moans escaped from her when he slipped a finger inside then another, exploring, teasing while kissing her neck.

  The door was flung open, and Aleximanus stormed inside, a folder in his arms. “An officer came to deliver this while you were busy. I read it.” He dropped the folder on the table, pushing aside the vase, not sparing a second glance at them. “How did it go?”

  Tyon growled and adjusted Hazel’s skirts. “Knock next time.”

  He scoffed. “We don’t have time for this, and if you want privacy, try locking the bloody door. It usually works to keep people out.”

  Hazel glanced at Tyon. Judging by the tightness in his jaw, he was still shocked.

  “We contacted Étienne,” she said.

  Aleximanus stopped spreading the documents. His gaze darted from Tyon to her. “You found him.” Something passed across his face that widened his eyes and squeezed his lips together. Shock, hope? “When will he be here?”

  She traced the floral pattern on the couch, ignoring the wet pulse between her thighs. “We don’t know. The connection broke. He might be anywhere.”

  “Dammit.” He thumped a fist on the table. “I’m so close.”

  “What are you talking about?” Tyon sat straighter.

  “I think I know where the Hierophant keeps Kaela.” He rummaged through the papers. “I read Verna’s file again and searched for something in common with Leon. Verna’s aunt left her a property, a manor, the Green Gables, right on the outskirts of West Hampstead. It’s an ancient fortress turned into a mansion. Leon has become the usufructuary. He can do what he wants to the property but isn’t the owner. There’s an underground chamber once used as dungeon.” He panted. “It’s the perfect spot. I bet this is where he took the girls before sacrificing them in the church. This is where he keeps Kaela.”

  “We can’t fight him now,” Tyon said. “We have to wait for Étienne.”

  “There’s no time!” Aleximanus’s eyes turned black, the white all gone, his voice sounding cavernous. The bond between him and Hazel gave a tug, a sharp pull that made her jump. “As soon as the news of Verna’s arrest reaches him, Leon will worry we’re on his trail and take Kaela somewhere else.”

  Hazel slipped from Tyon�
��s lap, a bit horrified by the fact that being discovered dirty-puzzling by Aleximanus didn’t upset her. Indeed, her lust purred temptingly. “Aleximanus has a point. Leon will leave and take Kaela with him. The police will want to search Verna’s manor, and he’ll disappear before that.”

  Tyon scrubbed his unshaven chin. “We can’t fight the Hierophant. He’s too strong for us.”

  “We don’t have to destroy him now.” She spread her arms. “Just to help Kaela.”

  Aleximanus gave a curt nod. The bond throbbed and burned.

  “And how do you think we can do that?” Tyon asked. “Storm the castle? We won’t be able to get a hundred yards from Kaela without him knowing it.”

  “Then let him know.” Aleximanus’s black stare fixed on her. Their bond hummed, a soft, seducing whisper that held an entire conversation, and she understood what he wanted.

  She perched on the edge of the couch. “Do I have the power to charm the Hierophant?”

  “Yes,” Aleximanus said at the same time that Tyon yelled, “No!”

  Hazel shot to her feet. “Tyon, it might work. I’ll distract him while you free Kaela.”

  “If he gets a hint of what we’re trying to do, he’ll kill you without a moment of pause.”

  “I’ll protect her.” Aleximanus’s eyes slowly turned blue again. “I won’t let anything happen to her. Our bond will help us, will keep her safe.”

  Tyon uncoiled his massive body as he stood up, the room seemingly turning darker. “I won’t risk her life again.”

  Hazel clung to his arm, a burst of excitement rushing through her. “I have a plan.”

  Chapter 24

  ALEXIMANUS WRAPPED HIMSELF in his heavy coat after leaving the desecrated church. Every time he contacted the Hierophant and stepped into that cursed place, he shivered as if running a fever, and a foul taste singed his tasting buds for hours. Not to mention the echo of the girls’ screams that kept replaying in his head.

  But it was worth it. The Hierophant had believed his story, pleased to know Hazel was now a lust-breather and that Tyon had been caught. Either the news of Verna’s arrest hadn’t reached him yet, or he didn’t care.