by Skye Malone
He turns his face slightly. She lets her hand fall away.
“No, my dear. I’m sorry, but I cannot in good conscience leave Cait out there too, not with circumstances as they are. My people are harrying Linden for a very good reason—one that threatens Cait equally as much as me.” Her brow rises, her expression projecting curiosity. “Or did Alistair not say anything about that when he brought you in to speak with him the other day?”
His gaze meets hers. “Was it me or him you had under surveillance?”
She appears amused. “I have to pick just one?”
He doesn’t answer.
Lucretia’s smile remains. “Him. Mostly. Though it was alarming to hear you’d been brought in so easily.”
“They found me at school.”
“Ah.” She nods. “Messy. Of course.” She paces away and lays the dark rose on the red tablecloth. “Alistair Linden has become rather more of a threat as of late, and now he has something I want. Something that means my people, your ostensible ‘friends’, and even Cait are in danger.” She pauses, glancing back at him. “And something she can assist me in finding.”
He doesn’t react, despite how the words confirm what he’d been concerned was true.
Lucretia already has plans for Cait.
“There are Touched,” she continues, “who aren’t like the others. Special, and rare beyond belief, rather like yourself—though sadly none have displayed your specific abilities. But with magical talents like incubi and succubi.”
Her eyes narrow when he remains silent. “You knew about this, didn’t you?” She laughs. “Oh, Amar, I’ve missed you. How much have you heard?”
“Only that.”
Her brow shrugs equitably. “Well, this particular Touched is also something of an anomaly, like you and Cait. They have a power unlike any that has been found in the demonic world in… well, centuries, in this case.”
“What kind of power?”
“Psychic.”
He allows his skepticism to show.
“It seems impossible, I realize. Thankfully, the ability seems limited and sporadic—otherwise, I have no doubt we would all already be dead. But it is true. Now, I have tried persuasion. I have tried force. But Alistair refuses to give the Touched up, and all the pressure my people have brought to bear in the few short weeks since he discovered this person has been unsuccessful in changing his mind. However, my agents have uncovered information leading me to believe he may be hiding this individual among the regular Touched, and this is where Cait comes in. My agents would secure her access to the Linden stock of Touched—in total safety, of course. She would identify the one whom he is hiding and my people would take care of the rest. The threat ends.”
“Cait is not your pawn.”
“Ally,” she corrects as if wounded. “Please, Amar. I wouldn’t do such a thing to her.”
He regards her for a long moment. “No. Cait stays out of this, Lucretia. I stay out of it. Your people leave her and all her friends and family alone, and you find this Touched another way.”
His gaze slides to the tapestries where he knows bodyguards are hiding, and he’s aware of the message he’s making clear in the motion. Without another word, he turns and heads for the door.
“I could force the issue.”
He looks back. Lucretia’s smile is gone. Something else remains, tense and mostly hidden. On anyone else, he’d swear it was fear.
“You are a special case,” she says. “And we both know how precarious this deal of ours could be.”
She walks toward him. “If this Touched of Alistair’s has a vision of Cait, how long do you think she’ll survive? How tolerant of her neutrality do you think he will be? A single look at her and Alistair must have known whose daughter she is. The only reason he has not simply forced her into his House at gunpoint has to be because he suspects she’s a Trojan horse of my own making. But what happens if his little psychic sees otherwise?” Lucretia makes a disgusted sound. “And what about the Chastain family?” Her gaze scrapes over him. “What about you? One shot, darling. Alistair and the rest who are aware of what you are, they know they’ll only get one and if they miss, they’re done. But what could they do if that psychic happens to predict precisely where and when that shot needs to be taken?”
He doesn’t answer and, after a moment, she straightens like she’s collecting herself. “I’ll deal about Cait on one condition. You.”
“No.”
Something ugly twists through Lucretia’s expression. “Then you will watch me break that child. You will watch me shred her world and slaughter every single person who means a damn to her. And if you try to stop me, if you kill me, I will still have as many people sent after you as it takes to get that one shot in.”
A quiver runs through her like she’s fighting to get herself back under control, but slowly, calm reasserts itself over her face. She leans closer and, when she speaks, her voice is low as if she’s trying to keep anyone from hearing. “You and I both know you don’t want me as an enemy, Amar. And I don’t want you as one either. Find this Touched. Remove them from Alistair’s hands one way or another, but help me keep that fool from destroying our world. And then—” She seems to struggle with the words. “And then we will discuss Cait’s situation.”
He studies her, not moving. She’s desperate, he realizes. The leader of one of the most powerful Houses in the demonic world, and she’s absolutely desperate.
And he doesn’t imagine for a moment that she won’t do everything she’s threatened for Cait and more.
He fights back a grimace. This is suicide. Or damn near as close to it as he’s ever wanted to come. Every instinct for survival he has is screaming for him to walk away.
And by the time he returned to the apartment, Cait would have been taken and Ruby would be dead. Every security measure he’d put in place wouldn’t be a match for an all-out assault ordered by the leader of a House.
The plan to come here had been desperate too.
“Your people don’t touch her,” he says, his voice equally soft. “They back off and they keep any other House from coming near Cait, her friends, or her family at the same time.”
She nods once. “Agreed.”
He hesitates for a heartbeat, weighing whether to trust the fast reply, and whether it wouldn’t be better to have a backup plan in place.
Just in case.
“And when the situation with this Touched is over,” he continues. “I leave. Our deal resumes—and it covers Cait too.”
She’s silent. Her jaw works around like she’s trying to decide how to respond.
“Cait doesn’t want this, Lucretia. She doesn’t want her powers or anything to do with this world.” He pauses. “She’s not Josephine. She never will be.”
Her mouth tightens. “Very well.”
“Thank you.”
Lucretia glances up at him and, after a moment, a hint of her smile returns. “We really would make a good team, you know,” she murmurs.
He meets her gaze flatly.
Her smile broadens. “Ah well.” She walks back to the table and takes up the rose again. “My people will escort you to a room where you may stay. I’ll have someone bring you up some nourishment as well. You’ll leave with my agents for the nearest Linden storage of Touched this evening after sunset.”
He heads for the door.
“It’s a pleasure to have you back again, Amar.”
He glances over his shoulder.
“Even if only for now,” she amends.
Without a word, he leaves the room, hoping he’s not making a mistake.
Desperately.
Sunlight creeps across my walls and I blink to realize I’ve been staring at shadow lines cast by my window blinds. I don’t know how long they’ve been there or when they went from darkness to a shape on my wall, but I grimace, rolling away from the sight.
So much for getting sleep before dawn.
I scrub a hand over my face. It’s ridicul
ous. I’m ridiculous. But a whole night of that knowledge hasn’t made sleep arrive any easier. Or at all.
In frustration, I shove my blankets aside. It’s not just that Amar hasn’t returned, or that I can’t stop worrying that something has happened to him and I’d never know. After all, it’s not like Bianca would tell me.
Hell, the bitch probably wouldn’t think to tell anyone.
My stomach roils. It’s not only that, though. Ruby didn’t come home till after midnight and, like a coward, I couldn’t even make myself go out to see her. I know she’s got to be going through hell right now. I know this isn’t just about me, and that even if it’s hard, I need to be there for her. But I didn’t want to deal with that look on her face again. The one that says I might be a monster.
The one that makes me worry she might be right.
I climb to my feet and stalk toward the closet, resolutely trying to ignore the way my legs shake. It’s back, the craving. The hunger. Back like floodwaters lapping at the edge of my mind, inching closer till they can swallow me whole. And I don’t know what to do about it. Or rather, I know exactly what I need to do about it.
But I don’t want to.
I take a shirt from a hanger and keep my breathing steady while I put it on. I’ll be fine, though. Amar will be too.
Wherever the hell he is.
I scowl. Amar isn’t my boyfriend—and even if he was, it’d be the acme of stupidity to need to know where he was at every hour of the damn day. I’m not like that.
And he is fine. Safe. He can take care of himself.
I hope.
Resolutely, I draw another breath. Ridiculous. Totally ridiculous.
I’d feel a lot better if I stopped by his place, though. Made sure and all that.
I pause, my gaze darting to the clock. That could work, actually. I still have a few hours until class. And I remember his address from when we left his apartment the other day.
It’d be easy.
I head for the living room before I can start talking myself out of the idea.
The lights aren’t on and the blinds are closed, casting the living room in a dim twilight. But the werewolves are still there. They glance over when I open the door and their eyes glint brightly in the shadows.
I freeze.
The weird reflectivity in their eyes vanishes, leaving three ordinary-looking Vikings sitting on the couch and armchair in my living room.
“Hello,” the nearest one comments.
They look away before I can respond, their gazes fastening on the door like they heard something, and one of them rises from his seat. He crosses the room and pulls the door open.
Sorcha, Ulric, and the other guy from yesterday are standing there. Without a word, they step past the man by the door, though Ulric gives him a brief nod of acknowledgement.
The other two on the couch stand up. “See you this evening,” one says to me.
They file from the apartment.
“Early morning today?” Ulric asks me. He sounds like he’s making a note of my schedule for future reference.
My mouth moves. “Um, no. I mean, yeah, but not for class. I—” An awkward feeling hits me. “I was going to stop by Amar’s apartment first.”
Nothing changes in his expression. “Leaving now?”
“Yeah.”
Sorcha turns and walks back into the hall while Ulric steps aside, clearing a path for me to follow her. “He’ll watch your friend, same as yesterday.”
Ulric nods to the man with them.
I hesitate. “Okay.” I slip past Ulric and the other guy into the hallway. Sorcha is already by the stairs. I wonder what the neighbors will think if they see me with these massive bodyguards for the second day in a row.
The mercenaries trail me all the way to Amar’s building, parking only one spot behind me when I find a place on the street. I bite my lip while I get out of the car. They’ll want to come with me upstairs. They’ll probably insist on it.
For that matter, I doubt I stand a chance of convincing them to do otherwise.
With the two of them flanking me like a bizarre entourage, I wait by the locked entrance for someone to leave the building and then slip in before the glass door can close. The lobby is empty, thankfully, and the elevator is as well. In silence, I stand in the small confines, watching the numbers creep upward with the two werewolves on either side of me. I know I’m probably safe with them. Safer than I would be without them, anyway. But it’s still a struggle to keep that image from my mind, the one from the set when they were in their other form, and all the damage they did that night.
The elevator dings. I stride out quickly when the door pulls back.
Amar’s floor appears empty. Thick carpet muffles the sound of my footsteps and obliterates Sorcha and Ulric’s passage completely. It amazes me how silent the two of them are. The bright lights around us eliminate any chance at shadows. Along the cream-colored walls, dark wooden doors stand at long distances from one another; indications, I suppose, of the size of the apartments they hide.
I round the corner and continue down the hall. Amar’s apartment is near the corner of the building. I’m pretty sure I remember the number.
My footsteps slow when I near his door, and nervously, I cast a brief look to Sorcha and Ulric.
Without a word, Sorcha slips past me and Amar’s door alike, and takes up a position closer to the fire exit at the end of the hall. Ulric hangs back, keeping watch on the other stretch of the corridor.
I swallow hard. Okay… here goes nothing. Taking a deep breath, I lift my hand to knock.
What if he’s with someone in there?
I freeze at the sudden thought. What if that’s why he left the other night? Because he needed to feed off somebody after everything we’d been through.
Air escapes me. That’s okay. That’s not so horrible. I mean, it makes my stomach try to twist through itself in complete violation of the laws of physics, but it’s better than any other alternative. Maybe he’s simply been distracted making up for the energy we can’t give each other.
My hand lowers. It’s hard to breathe. The hall feels too cramped and I know I must look like an idiot to Ulric and Sorcha, but now I’m worried Amar will open the door. Find me out here, with him standing in the doorway with a sheet around his waist or those drawstring pants he wore the other day. And it’s fine. I mean, it’s really fine. We can’t get the energy we need from each other, so of course he’ll need to sleep with other people. I know that. I will soon too, for pity’s sake. And that… that’s fine.
I’m frozen like a deer in headlights and I don’t know what to do.
“Cait.”
I jump a mile. My gaze snaps over to find Ulric striding toward me, a murderous expression on his face. “We need to go,” he orders. “Now.”
I look between him and Sorcha, who’s motioning urgently for me to head for the emergency exit. Confused, I start toward her, anxiety beginning to gallop through me. I haven’t heard anything. Seen anything. The hallway seems exactly—
“Hey, don’t go rushing off on my account.”
My heart leaps into my throat, but Ulric moves fast, putting himself between me and the origin of the voice before I can even turn. A wave of hostility comes off him like a wall. I retreat in spite of myself.
I catch sight of the person beyond him. Ram stands at the corner of the hallway, regarding us with an amused expression.
“So that’s all you’ve got, eh? Two mercenary pups. And here, of all places.” He shakes his head. “You really don’t know what you’re up against do you?”
Ulric gestures sharply for me to go toward Sorcha, not taking his eyes from Ram.
“Oh come on,” Ram chides.
The emergency exit door opens. A black man steps through it. He’s big like Ram, like a boulder. I think he might be another troll.
Sorcha stops at the sight of him. A growl leaves her, low and chilling. The hairs on my arms stand on end. There’s nothing human in
that sound.
“How many times do I have to tell you I don’t want any trouble?” Ram sighs.
I look between them, not sure what to do. But we’re trapped. I haven’t got a clue what trolls can do, but it’s not hard to guess that it can’t be good. Otherwise, I don’t doubt that Sorcha or Ulric would’ve already gotten me out of here.
So fighting’s out and that leaves talking—something at which I’m not that great. But it’s all we’ve got.
“Try a few more,” I retort, mustering up as much bravado as I can.
“We’re looking out for you, Cait.”
“Funny way of showing it.” I glance to the other guy. “Back off. I don’t intend to have any conversations here. You want to talk, we do it someplace else.”
Ram chuckles. “Okay, sure. We could talk. Not really why we’re here, though.”
I tense.
“Amar isn’t home, is he?”
Wary alarm prickles in my veins.
“He’s gone back to Volgert,” Ram elaborates. “Went back to Lucretia the minute he left your apartment the other night and he’s been at her place ever since.”
“You’re lying.”
“Our people kept an eye on him. Spies reported his arrival minutes after he got there.” Ram shakes his head. “I tried to tell you: be careful who you trust.”
My heart is thudding so hard I’m sure the wolves can hear it. “Get out of our way.”
Ram glances instead to Ulric and Sorcha. “So he paid these two to guard you? You sure they aren’t just keeping an eye on you for Volgert?”
A growl leaves Ulric this time. “Watch yourself, troll.”
Ram grins briefly, his metal teeth flashing in the light. “I’m here to help you, Cait. Help you join up with the real neutrals and maybe do some good in this world. Amar lied. He’s carrying on like he actually managed to leave the Houses behind, but it’s bullshit. Someone like him, someone with his history?” He shakes his head. “Wouldn’t happen. I mean, do you even know who he is?”
I can’t help it. I recoil like I’m trying to put distance between myself and the words.
“Yeah. Didn’t think so. Amar’s a monster every bit as bad as his father. Everyone knows that. And the rumors of what he can do, what they both could do…” Ram chuckles. The sound sends shivers swarming over my skin. “Story is, Amar even took the guy out. Did he tell you that? He was all set to follow in his father’s footsteps, trained up like a right old apprentice to the mantle. Then suddenly his daddy’s dead and Amar simply strolls out of the sadistic bastard’s sworn House. Says he’s neutral and Lucretia Volgert doesn’t make a peep. Neither do any of the other Houses. Hell, Lucretia even forbade any of her people from asking him about it.”
