Pack of Lies

by Edwards, Hailey

  “The line blurs,” she snarled. “There’s a reason our foremothers broke with Faerie.”

  “We’re descended from fae.” He sighed. “There are some remedies only they can provide.”

  “How do you know she won’t ask for your firstborn? Or a hundred years of your life she steals hours at a time during the night? Or your true love’s love?”

  “Ford is my friend,” he said slowly. “It’s my duty to do whatever it takes to pull him back from this.”

  The piss-poor way he handled Hadley that night—right in front of Ford—was the reason he had run off without backup in the first place. He had no one to blame but himself for Ford’s condition, and that made it his responsibility to fix it.

  “Your mother will kill you.”

  “Probably.”

  “I’ve said my piece.” She focused on the drive. “I can’t stop you from doing something stupid.” Mulish determination twisted her face. “Does Hadley know what you’re up to? What you’re risking?”

  “No.”

  “Please tell me you’re not playing hot potato with her again. You can’t fix Ford then toss her to him.”

  A smile twitched on his lips. “I’m aware.”

  Hadley had thrown down that gauntlet, and he had made the choice to pick it up and keep it.

  “Are you sure?” Her expression pinched. “He’s got a thing for her a blind man can see.”

  “Hadley is mine.”

  A statement of fact. A claiming. A step farther down the path from which there was no return.

  Ares grumbled a noncommittal noise, and Midas reached in his pocket.

  “Mine.” He dangled the fuzzy sock from his fingertips.

  “Ha,” Ares barked out a laugh, and once she got started, there was no stopping her. “You love her.”

  “I don’t know her well enough for that.” He tucked his token away. “Yet.”

  “I’m sorry, Midas, but you’re sunk. You’re carrying the girl’s sock in your pocket. A sock. Do you know how many dog jokes I could crack at your expense right now? You probably fish it out and smell it, rub it between your fingers.” She screwed up her face. “Any other guy, I would worry about what else you’re doing with one of her socks, but this is you we’re talking about here.”

  Heat blasted into his cheeks, and he folded his hands in his lap in case it got any ideas.

  Ares read his emotions through his scent and cut him slack.

  Grateful for the reprieve, he resisted the urge to touch the sock, for luck, before they reached the den.

  “I’m happy for you,” she said after she parked in front of the glass house. “Really.”

  Determined to regain his composure, he kept his head down. “Thanks.”

  “Midas?” Her hands tightened on the wheel. “Remember I do what I do for the wellbeing of the pack.”

  The set of her jaw didn’t bode well for him, but he sensed his mother on his periphery, and he couldn’t keep her waiting. “I never doubt it.”

  “Good.”

  Ares didn’t get out, and he wasn’t surprised she wanted to avoid bumping into Natisha a second time.

  Mom waited for him in the driveway, dressed all in black, a funerary air around her, but home was always a welcome sight, even if its design was too modern for his tastes with all the metal and glass. It was a nod to the city that had sprung up on the acres of woodland where he grew up playing in the forests with his sister.

  “Am I late?” He bent down and kissed her cold cheek. “I came as soon as Ares fetched me.”

  “She’s early.” Mom slid her gaze over him. “You look…”

  “Well-rested?”

  Shaking her head, eyes gone soft, she murmured, “Peaceful.”

  “It’s going to be all right.” He gathered her in a hug, tight against his chest. “I’m going to be all right.”

  For the first time in a long time, the words didn’t taste like a lie.

  Aware this could all go sideways, and fast, he didn’t argue when she prolonged the inevitable by tucking her arm in his and leading him on a short walk down to the creek. They stood on the bank, the water babbling beneath them, filling the silence. His mother, so strong and unbending, leaned her head on his shoulder.

  “It’s going to be all right,” he promised her.

  “We should get back,” she said, which was not the same as agreeing.

  Without another word, they turned toward the house.

  “Ah.” Natisha drifted through the open doorway into the yard when she spotted them. “There you are, Midas Kinase.”

  Hair as red as wet blood spilled down her back, and the farthest reaches of eternity filled her eyes with a darkness no emotion could permeate.

  Releasing his mother, he straightened his shoulders. “I’m ready.”

  Natisha smiled, a cold, reptilian thing, and gestured him in as if it were her home he was visiting and not the reverse.

  His mother stayed outside, unable to follow where he was going. She would pad out to her swing in the nearby clearing, her thinking place, the inspiration for the thinking place he shared with Lethe, and wait for him there.

  “I have met you twice as often as any other offspring of my line,” she mused. “Your mother loves you very much.” She twisted it into an insult. “How weak you must be to depend on her so. And you the heir?” She clucked her tongue. “Pity.”

  The day spent with Hadley had solidified things in his mind. His plan began as a means of paying off a debt to Ford, but he could admit this decision was as much for himself as it was for Ford. He was tired of the looks, the whispers, the fear. No amount of atonement would make up for what he had done in Faerie, but pretending it didn’t happen, using a magical crutch to avoid the grief and guilt owed him, was worse than spitting on those females’ graves. Past be damned, it was time he stood on his own two feet.

  “I’m stronger than I look,” he said smoothly. “I recovered on my own this time.”

  “You are not recovering at all.” She led him into a room empty except for its ceremonial dirt floor. “You are, at most, coping.” She sat, folding her legs, and gestured for him to join her. “What is it you wish from me, if not healing?”

  Healing covered myriad topics, most of them having nothing to do with mending flesh or thought. She was ancient, and life held little enough interest for her she no longer cared who lived or died. Bargains, however, those were in her blood, and she craved making them to alleviate her boredom.

  “A coven of witchborn fae have settled in Atlanta.”

  A slight widening of her eyes betrayed her surprise. “An entire coven?”

  “Yes.” He waited for her to say more, but she had regained her composure. “They’re hunting us.”

  Honest amusement pursed her lips, and teeth shone behind her lips. “Gwyllgi aren’t prey.”

  “No,” he agreed. “We’re not.”

  “War lost its appeal long ago. I will not vanquish this enemy for you.”

  “We can fight our own battles.”

  “Oh?” She inclined her head. “What favor would you ask of me then?”

  “The coven used their magic to create monsters. Parasites. A friend of mine has been infected, used as a host, and the sickness has gone to his brain. I want you to save him.”

  Mocking laughter filled the room. “Midas Kinase, you have nothing of such value to trade.”

  “What will it cost?” He touched the sock in his pocket, his lucky charm. “What do you want?”

  The door flew open behind him, cracking against the wall, and the mouthwatering scent of Hadley hit his nose. Midas twisted around as Ares mouthed sorry then beat a hasty retreat down the hall, away from the fury of the storm she had unleashed in the small room.

  All of a sudden, Ares’s uncomfortable fidgeting and cryptic remarks made a lot more sense. She had tattled on him. To Hadley.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Hair soaked and dressed in mismatched clothes, Hadley bore down on
him, fury and hurt and relief twisting her features, making her more beautiful for her ferocity. “You don’t get to make these kinds of choices without me, Goldilocks. That’s not how this works.”

  Natisha leaned forward, eyes bright with avarice. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Hadley Whitaker, and this numbskull is courting me. That gives me certain rights, like shaking him until the rocks in his head stop rattling for even considering entering a fae bargain without a mediator.”

  The elder fae could have ripped out her throat, shifted onto all fours and bitten her in two, and Midas couldn’t have stopped her, but Hadley wasn’t afraid. She glared at Natisha and then she glared at Midas.

  “You want to go through with this?” Her anger vibrated the air around him. “Then be smart about it.”

  “Who are you really, shadow child?” Natisha wet her lips. “What are you?”

  Shadow child.

  Shadow was a recurring theme with her, but Midas didn’t have time to connect the dots. He had to smooth things over with Natisha if he was going to save his friend. There was no time to locate a mediator, however smart it would be to have one.

  Even footsteps echoed down the hall, drawing their attention as they neared the open door.

  “What are you willing to give in exchange for her true name?” Linus strolled into the room, hands in his pockets, wraith poised at his shoulder. “What will you bargain for her nature?”

  “Linus Andreas Lawson III.” A low growl started in Natisha’s throat, and it made him go cold to hear her use his full name, the same as she did with him, as if that gave her power over them. “What right do you have to enter these proceedings, Eidolon?”

  “Hadley is my apprentice, and she’s in courtship with Midas. That gives me the right to protect her.”

  A flicker of surprise twitched across Hadley’s face before she schooled her features.

  “You wish to bargain on Midas’s behalf?” A predatory grin curved her mouth. “You are not pack.”

  “I accept his offer of counsel,” Midas said, aware of the magnitude of the gift he was being given.

  Linus wasn’t fae, but he was Society royalty, the Grande Dame’s son, and they were every bit as twisted when it came to striking bargains and maneuvering through loopholes as anyone born of Faerie.

  “Come.” Natisha scowled at Linus. “Sit.”

  “Hadley,” Linus addressed her. “Will you take Midas into the hall and wait for me there?”

  “Sure thing, boss.” She walked over to Midas, took him by the elbow, and pulled him to his feet with strength she had no business possessing. Under her breath, she growled, “You’re in big trouble, mister.”

  Out in the empty hall, Hadley shut the doors behind them, checked to make sure they were alone, and then lit into him.

  “What were you thinking?” She shoved him. “She could have kneaded your brain like dough and tied you into a pretzel.”

  “I’ve dealt with Natisha before.” He staggered back. “I would have been fine.”

  The disgusted sound she made told him what she thought of that. “What did she want from you?”

  “She told me I had nothing to trade,” he admitted, “but the old ones are canny.”

  Desperation might have driven him to make a bargain it would cost his soul to honor. If he started rattling off things he had, he might name the thing Natisha actually wanted, making him complicit in his undoing. All reasons why his mother had leveraged her position as alpha to force him to allow her to negotiate on his behalf both times.

  On the verge of ripping out her hair—or maybe his—Hadley wheeled on him, and he disarmed her the only way he knew how. “Why did she call you shadow child?”

  “All potentates have wraiths.”

  “You’re not Potentate yet, and that’s not an answer.” He spun it around on her. “Have you bonded?”

  “Yes.”

  Unsure what he expected, her candor surprised him. “You have a wraith?”

  “Remember when you told me there were things about your past you couldn’t share with me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Remember when I said I’m in the same boat?” She clenched her fists at her sides. “This falls under that heading.”

  A flicker of temper sparked in his gut, the desire to learn every inch of her, but it snuffed out quickly. He had made his choice, to deal with his past, and he wasn’t certain how much of that he would share with her, how much he could stand to confess. Until he knew, he had no business pushing her.

  “How can we call what we’re doing a relationship if we’re keeping secrets?” Her head fell back on her shoulders. “How is this going to work?”

  The seesaw of his emotions was mirrored on her face, and that kept his inner predator from snapping.

  “Tell me a secret, right now.” He crossed to her, a dare. “It doesn’t have to be big, just true.”

  “I spend a ridiculous amount of time weighing what’s good for me against how good you make me feel.”

  “My turn.” His throat grew tight. “I didn’t want to get out of bed. I wanted to stay there, with you.”

  Searching his face, her eyes softened. “How does this help?”

  “If we tell each other one secret every day, then maybe one day we’ll work up to the big ones.”

  Doubt and hope battled in the tightness of her mouth when she murmured, “Do you think it’s that simple?”

  “Nothing about this is simple.” He touched her cheek. “Neither of us are simple people.”

  “No.” She exhaled. “We’re not.”

  “I’m willing to try.” He cradled her face in his palm. “That’s the best I’ve got.”

  “Okay.” She rose on tiptoe and kissed him, a light brush over his mouth.

  “Just okay?”

  “I’m less eloquent than you.” She rubbed the toe of her sneaker against the hardwood until it squeaked. “You’ve had a lot longer to work on the whole language thing.” She squinted up at him. “How many can you speak, anyway?”

  “Seven or eight, but five are dialects.”

  “That’s six or seven more than me.” She tapped a finger against her mouth. “How long did it take you to learn them?”

  “Are you asking me my age?” He weighed the balance of her expression. “Does it bother you?”

  “Fae lifespans are beyond my comprehension. I’m not sure what yours is like.”

  “Necromancers live for half a millennium.” He had already given her one secret, but he offered her another for free. “I’ll live two or three times that, unless I’m killed before then.”

  A beta, a future alpha, had no guarantees. Especially not one who kept following the future potentate into danger when he ought to be delegating during the times when pack law overlapped the OPA.

  “This must be how humans feel when necromancers tell them they can live up to five hundred years as a vampire if the price is right.” She laughed to herself. “Hearing it makes it sound like forever, but living it? It slips by in a blink.”

  Wood creaking caught his attention, and he glanced back as Linus exited the ceremonial room.

  A sour taste flooded his mouth, but he managed to swallow once Hadley slid her hand in his.

  “Walk with me.” Linus started down the hall, giving no sign he meant one or the other or both of them. “Natisha and I have come to an arrangement.”

  They exited the building, and Midas was relieved his mother hadn’t returned. He wasn’t ready to face her yet, not until he knew what his intervention would cost.

  Hadley, less patient than Midas, blurted, “What does she want?”

  Linus held up a finger, led them onto the smooth concrete patio, and drew a circle with a brush dipped into a jar of coppery red ink to allow them privacy.

  “Her price is the elimination of the witchborn fae coven.”

  “That’s it?” Midas went still. “That’s not much.”

  For what they had done to Ford and Bishop, he planned
on wiping them out regardless.

  “She wants their hearts,” he continued. “That’s where their magic resides. All the souls they have devoured, all the lives they have consumed, are contained within those chambers.”

  “Mix and match souls,” Hadley muttered, her brow tight. “A look for every occasion.”

  “Seven hearts, minimum.” The grave humor failed to lighten Linus’s mood. “Seven points of power.”

  “Seven,” Midas repeated, raking a hand through his hair. “For a coven, that’s impressive. For Natisha…”

  “That’s the bargain.” Linus thinned his lips. “The cost of healing is high. It was that or let your friend die.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought to offer her the hearts of our enemies.” Midas wished it was a matter of Natisha craving justice for the infraction against her kin, but she was too old and too fae to care. Their blood ties were so thin they would snap in a few more generations and only the honorific would remain. “I’m grateful you could lend a hand.”

  “Nothing else tempted her?” Hadley chewed on her bottom lip. “That’s all she would accept?”

  “No.” The weight of his gaze fell across her shoulders. “There was something else, someone else, that tempted her a great deal.”

  The feral half of Midas growled in understanding, the price too high to pay, even for his friend’s life.

  “Natisha came along one promise too late.” Hadley stared at her shadow on the wall, her frown sharp enough to cut. “I’ve already sold my soul to one devil.”

  “We’ve all made bargains we regret,” Linus said, “but that doesn’t make them any less necessary.”

  “Will she heal Ford now?” Midas speared his fingers through Hadley’s like that could protect her from the wily old fae. “Or is she awaiting payment?”

  His friend wouldn’t last much longer, and seven hearts was a high price that would require time to pay.

  “I convinced her Ford possesses information critical to the success of your mission.” Linus scanned the forest, nodding at someone within. Likely the alpha, come to greet her unexpected guest. “She’s on her way to him now. There’s no time to waste.”

  Hadley leaned in to him, a show of solidarity. “How long do we have to collect the hearts?”