by Dannika Dark
Shepherd tucked his chin in the palm of his hand. He glanced down at the scars on his right arm, which weren’t as bad as the left. The cigarette smoke between his fingers created a haze, but through the haze, he remembered receiving each and every cut. Fifty-three in total on his entire body. Sometimes he counted a few more or less, but that was the number that came up the most.
“What if I can’t find a reason to stay?” Shepherd asked in all honesty.
Christian knocked back the rest of his drink and slid toward the end of the bench. “Then at least tell us your troubles before walking out the door. By then it won’t matter, and you owe us that much. I’ll be the one scrubbing your memories of your time with Keystone, but I can’t touch the rest. That’s yours. If you become a menace to society, then at least we’ll understand your motives. But whatever you do, don’t run.” Christian leaned in tight and locked eyes with Shepherd. “If you run, we’ll have no choice but to hunt you down. And you know what that means. I’ll have to do a full memory wipe. Not just Keystone, but everything before and after.”
After Christian got up and left the room, Shepherd stared vacantly at the empty seat in front of him. A cold dread washed over him. He knew damn well about the agreement they’d each made when joining Keystone, and that was a crucial part of why he was thinking about running away.
Forgetting Keystone would mean forgetting his son.
Chapter 4
Patrick Bane sure did love his balls. It was the night before Valentine’s Day, and though Patrick hadn’t announced a theme for his party, the obvious red décor and flower arrangements said it all. Keystone was invited and present, but most of us had split up to do our own thing.
As a member of the higher authority, Patrick had all the luxuries a Mage could afford. His mansion had a grand front room and two curved staircases joined by a balcony on the second floor. The marble floors gleamed beneath an opulent chandelier dripping with crystals. Cocktail tables were spaced apart and covered in white linen. Each table had a cluster of red candles surrounded by lush red rose petals. As usual, Mr. Bane’s staff had their hands full with passing out champagne and desserts. Each woman who drifted by left behind a cloud of perfume, and most of the men were dressed up in their finest attire. It became a game to guess which century each person had been born in based on their outfit.
Instead of standing, Gem and I had chosen a table with tall chairs. Most of the men were underwhelmed with my leather pants, but Gem stole the show. She’d decided a red dress would clash with her hair, a pale-violet ombré that faded to silver-tinted ends. Instead, she’d purchased a black cocktail dress with a giant heart cut out of the back. Beneath it, she wore a red lacy top to make the heart design stand out. Her platform heels were also black, but they each had small roses stitched into the fabric along the bottom. Few women held a candle to Gem’s unique sense of style. Her outfits were whimsical and thought out for each occasion.
“Patrick always has the best nonalcoholic drinks,” she gushed. “And you can tell the difference.”
I munched on another chocolate-covered strawberry, pieces of the chocolate shell cracking and falling onto the white tablecloth. “Why didn’t he have this party tomorrow?”
Gem set down her glass of sparkling cider and gave an elfin smile. “Most people have plans on Valentine’s Day. Wink, wink.”
That reminded me of my date with Christian. I tossed the strawberry stem on a small plate and licked the chocolate off my fingers. “Is that what you and Hooper are doing?”
Her eyes sparkled, as did all the glitter painted around them. “Alas, Hooper’s not into commercial holidays. But tonight is the first real date we’ve had in a long time.”
I glanced around the room. Women in red gowns and expensive baubles were stealing the attention of every available man. “Are you sure he knows you’re on a date?”
“Bartenders make a lot of friends. Someone he knows recognized him and asked if he could make them a drink that they aren’t serving here. People say he’s the best mixologist in town.”
I folded a rose petal in half. “Is it because he spikes the drinks?”
Her eyebrows gathered. “I never asked. Bartenders aren’t supposed to do that unless it’s one of the specialty drinks in the bar. He could get fired.”
“People love their Sensor magic. Maybe he makes a little cash on the side at public events like these.”
Confusion swam across her face. People frowned upon misused magic, especially at elite parties such as this one. What Sensors did was seen as a novelty, but their powers could also be dangerous if used irresponsibly. In my failed attempt to carry on a normal conversation, I’d inadvertently planted seeds of doubt in Gem’s head that would likely lead to a blowout later between her and Hooper.
Well done, Raven.
Wyatt cut through the crowd and swaggered in our direction. To say that Wyatt had charisma would be an understatement. What he lacked in style, he more than made up for in personality. He’d shined his black cowboy boots, and his dark jeans had a nice press. But Viktor had taken the jacket off his own back so Wyatt could conceal his T-shirt, which said: I HAVE A HEART-ON. Blue had remarked on the homonym, and that opened up a heated discussion on the ride over.
Luckily, Viktor hadn’t mentioned my leather pants and red sweater. I was woefully underdressed, but nothing else went with my apathy.
“This party is out of sight,” Wyatt said, his olive-green eyes sparkling with merriment. “Plenty of desperate women who don’t want to be alone tomorrow. They say it’s a trivial holiday, but I call bullshit.”
I leaned back in my chair. “Ah. Now I get why they hold these parties the day before. Looking for an easy lay?”
Wyatt collected the pieces of chocolate I’d spilled on the table and ate them. “I’m not complaining. My loins need to be ungirded once in a while.”
When Gem’s nose wrinkled, he winked at her.
Violins and cellos played from a nearby room where people were dancing. I glimpsed their happy faces through the open doorway over my right shoulder. Christian was somewhere in there, but I suddenly found myself wondering how long I could look at him without drawing attention. This wouldn’t be such a difficult position had Viktor never established the rule regarding sexual relations between partners.
Then again, I could totally see his point. Christian’s whereabouts had become a distraction for me throughout the evening.
I slid off my stool. “I’m going to mingle.”
Wyatt waggled his eyebrows. “Happy hunting.”
Viktor was in a tight circle with Patrick and a few other men dressed like penguins. They stood beside one of the grand staircases, champagne in hand. Patrick’s little boy was sitting on the floor, a dull look in his eyes. He had on his black cape and mask, something he must have enjoyed as a means to escape the drudgery of staying out of trouble and making a good impression on behalf of the host.
Poor kid. Nobody brought children to these parties, and he’d probably rather be upstairs, playing with his toys.
I dragged my gaze up and saw Shepherd sitting directly above him, his face visible through the gaps in the staircase. He didn’t like social gatherings, and to be honest, neither did I. Dressing up had its moments, but I couldn’t relate to these people. They were snooty, self-centered, aristocratic assholes.
“You look like you could use a drink,” a tall gentleman said. He handed me a champagne flute and lifted his own to his lips. “The representation of other Chitahs here is abysmal.”
His bright-yellow eyes looked at the pockets of partygoers with derision. I sipped my champagne and noticed his soot-colored hair. Most Chitahs had blond or reddish hair, but the lighter shades were always preferable. This guy was incredibly tall, so I felt it necessary to say something incredibly inane.
“How’s the weather up there?”
He lowered his glass and studied me for a beat. “I should ask you the same.”
I could smell him, and it wasn’t
cologne but a heady scent that made me take a step back.
“What is your Breed?” he inquired, tilting his head to the side.
Panic rippled through me when I noticed his nostrils twitching. “I’m a Mage.”
Not entirely a lie.
He reached up and slowly traced his bottom lip with his finger. “Is that so? Come forward and let me look at you.”
I jutted my hip to the side. “I never show my assets on the first date.”
His face softened, but not the three creases in his brow. “Do you fear me? Or do you see me as more than just a mortal enemy?”
“I’ve got nothing against your kind as long as you keep your fangs to yourself.”
A smile touched his lips, and his eyes sparkled like yellow citrine in morning light. “You have nothing to fear from me, female. If your kind weren’t so intimidated by my people, we might actually find common ground and quit warring with one another.”
I gulped down my champagne. “I once knew a Chitah detective who seduced Mage women before killing them. He used his venom to overpower his prey. So it’s not like the distrust of your kind is unwarranted.”
He drew a deep breath and set his half-empty glass on a tray moving by. “It’s unfortunate that one foolish man can alter perceptions because of his misdeeds. As long as men shape their beliefs by the actions of the past, the chasm between our Breeds will always exist.”
I couldn’t help but notice that during our conversation, we were garnering stares from people around us who were pretending not to look.
“So… what do you do for a living?”
He stirred with laughter and put his hands in the pockets of his long black coat. “A little of this. A little of that. And you?”
I rocked on my heels. “A little of this. A little of that.”
“I’m Quaid,” he said, bowing. “And you are?”
“Raven. What’s a nice guy like you doing talking to a girl like me? Don’t you have important colleagues around here to schmooze up to?”
“I don’t like seeing a female alone. Especially one with ruby lips turned in a frown.”
I felt my cheeks flush.
“It’s refreshing to speak candidly with another person.”
Christian eased up next to Quaid. “Did you know the real reason women paint their lips pink and red is to resemble their fanny? Shagging is all men think about, so it’s the only way that women can hold our attention.”
I gave him a mirthless smile. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
A man suddenly appeared at Quaid’s left. “Sire, the host wishes to speak with you before you leave.”
Quaid bowed and dutifully stepped away to do what everyone at these functions did—make connections.
“You make interesting friends,” Christian remarked, walking me to a private corner away from the crowd.
“Jealous?”
“Of the Overlord? Hardly.”
“Overlord?”
“Are you familiar with the Chitah hierarchy? Everyone belongs to a Pride, and every Pride is ruled by a Lord.” He peered over his shoulder and discreetly pointed at Quaid. “And that one rules them all. He’s their version of a king.”
I suddenly felt dizzy when I remembered the asinine things I’d asked him. How’s the weather up there? Good job, Raven.
I smacked Christian’s chest. “And you walked right up, talking about vaginas! What is wrong with us?”
He chortled, and I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Come now. What happened to the old Raven who didn’t give a shite what people thought?”
“That was before I had a boss. Had it been anyone else, no big deal. But the Lord of all Lords? I’m so fucking dead.”
The power suddenly shut off, and the music died. People looked around the room, which was now insufficiently lit with candles.
“Looks like someone forgot to pay the light bill,” I quipped.
Christian leaned in sexily, and for a moment, I thought he might kiss me. “You know what those leathers do to me.”
I blinked in surprise. “Someone might hear you.”
“No Vampires on the premises. Besides, parties like these are too loud, and another Vampire would hardly take notice. Hundreds of different conversations going at once, women cackling, glasses clinking, not to mention all those hooves stomping about in the ballroom.”
“So noise doesn’t bother you?”
“Aye, it bothers me. But I mute out the world until the only sound I can hear is the gentle ticking of your heart.”
“That’s a little creepy.”
Despite his admission, a flurry of tingles raced through me as he stepped closer, his finger tracing down the curve of my breast. No one could see us in the shadowy corner. I wanted to kiss his Adam’s apple and fall into his embrace. I also wanted to pull him into an empty room and do bad things.
Time stopped when an explosion rocked the mansion, sucking the air right out of my lungs. The sound was so earsplitting that I temporarily went deaf, all the cacophonous noise around me muffled. Christian pinned me to the wall, his body shielding mine. Once I counted all my limbs, we looked around to make sense of what just happened.
Some guests were on the floor. Others hunched over with their hands covering their ears. Black smoke billowed in from the back, but I didn’t see any dead bodies or damage.
A bevy of men moved like hockey players on ice, circling the Overlord. Facing outward, they drew their swords and formed a ring of steel before ushering him out the front door. Several people followed suit, searching for their party and rushing out. Moments later, pandemonium ensued. Cocktail tables were now obstacles as people flooded out of the adjoining rooms.
Christian and I sprang into action, searching the crowd for our team. Though my ears were still ringing, a crying child caught my attention. I swung my gaze to where Patrick and Viktor had been moments earlier and saw they were okay. But the little boy was in a fetal position on the floor, hands over his head. Shepherd jogged toward them just as Patrick scooped up his little boy and hurried off. Viktor appeared unhurt and caught up with Shepherd.
I headed to the back, where I’d last seen Gem and Wyatt. Christian disappeared toward the other side of the house. Broken glass from the champagne flutes crunched beneath my boots. No one in my line of vision had purple hair, and there were so many people pouring out of the ballroom that I found myself swimming against the stream.
“Gem!” I shouted.
I turned left and skidded on the marble floor where drinks had been spilled. Inside an empty dining room, candles flickered beneath a painting of a foxhunt, and trays of uneaten food covered the table.
Arguments erupted in the hall, one Mage blasting an agitated cougar who had shifted during the melee. I scuttled around them and smacked into someone while turning a corner.
“Niko,” I breathed, gripping his shoulders. “Are you okay?”
His black hood fell away. “Where’s Viktor?”
“He’s fine. Christian and Shepherd are out there, but I can’t find anyone else. Gem and Wyatt were sitting at a table around the corner just a few minutes ago. What happened?” Smoke funneling in from an open doorway in the back grew thicker and burned my eyes. “Is the house on fire?”
“Someone set off a bomb,” he said. “Be careful. Some use them as tactical diversions to get people to run in the opposite direction. Stay inside until we know what we’re dealing with. Ready yourself and watch for anyone who looks unusually calm.”
“Take my arm,” I said, leading him through the smoky hallway. Niko wouldn’t be able to navigate with all these people running about, not to mention the fallen objects on the ground. “Don’t these rich people know how to fight?”
“Their first instinct is self-preservation.”
I pulled my collar over my mouth and coughed. The acrid smell of something burning filled the air. Charred flesh? Gunpowder? Chemicals? I couldn’t really describe it. At the end of the hall, we were suddenly immersed in darkn
ess. When the air thinned, I looked around and saw we were in a kitchen. Flames ate up the curtains, and pieces of wood littered the floor from what looked to be ground zero. Shards of glass were everywhere, even embedded in the wall next to me. Drywall burned around the edges of a hole that was once a window, by the looks of the damage. I could actually see outside.
Niko stumbled over a chunk of the wall, so I let him lean on me for support. Aside from a small push dagger on my belt loop, the only weapons I had were my own two hands.
A crumpled body in the corner had charred flesh, and another was missing a leg. They must have been Patrick’s staff.
“Two casualties,” I noted, heading for the back door. It was still intact, and when we stepped outside, I noticed a charred spot on the patio where the concrete had broken apart. My eyes finally stopped burning, and I coughed a few times to clear my lungs.
“How many bodies?” he asked.
“None that I can see,” I said, bewildered as I searched the darkness.
Car alarms wailed from nearby, but the panicked shouts faded as more people left the premises.
I branched away from Niko and approached a fountain. My Vampire eyes were adjusting when I suddenly tripped and hit the ground, my face buried in the grass. When I lifted my head and rolled over, I scuttled backward from a decapitated body.
“What is it with me tripping over corpses lately?” I grumbled.
Inside, fire extinguishers hissed as white smoke poured out from the gaping hole in the wall. Several guards rushed onto the scene. Two approached me, and the husky guy with the flashlight knelt down and shined his light on the body.
The other guy reached in the fountain and lifted something out. “I found the head.”
Nauseated from the smell of burning flesh, I struggled to a standing position. “I need a vacation.”
