Midnight Poison (Paranormal Poisons Saga Book 1)

by A and E Kirk

  Alpha scratched his thick beard. “Leontes, if this is some kind of coup, it’s lousy timing.”

  “With a full moon imminent? Yes, we would know better than that.”

  “Then what the hell were you thinking, kidnapping my granddaughter? I don’t want a war, but you aren’t giving me much choice.”

  Leontes shook his head. The child was Alpha’s granddaughter. The awkward twist was certainly grounds for war.

  “I allowed your men to secure me,” Leontes said. “I have been nothing but cooperative. Rest assured, there is no coup. If you would simply call Queen Rusila, she would readily corroborate my words. Then we could move on to a civilized and productive discussion regarding how to work together to defeat a common foe.”

  “A clever strategy, Leontes, but one we easily see through.”

  Leontes landed cold eyes on the woman who had spoken. She was plain, average and unremarkable except for the gaudy, awful clothes and jewelry she paraded around in like a peacock in heat. She sat a mere two chairs down from Alpha, a privilege for anyone, let alone a non-shifter, to possess.

  “Leontes, you remember Nicolette Weaver,” Alpha said.

  “Of course. The witches’ liaison.” So Alpha had contacted them already. Rusila would be displeased that they had beaten her to the punch. And that the witches had sided against her.

  Leontes fought off the unease that had settled in and managed a smile. “I am pleased my intentions for a peaceful and jointly beneficial resolution are so clear, Ambassador Weaver.”

  “Peaceful?” Nicolette snorted, then spoke slow and loud like an arrogant noblewoman lecturing her servants. “You merely took out Alpha’s communications so they can’t call to confirm your lies. All in an effort to distract them from preparing a defense. I would expect nothing less from the untrustworthy undead.”

  Nicolette smirked and looked off into nothing as she tried to drape herself casually in the chair.

  Leontes resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Nicolette, have I complimented you on your diplomatic skills?”

  “No, you have not.”

  “Good. Because you have none.”

  One of the goons slammed another punch into Leontes’ face.

  The vampire’s head snapped back. He tasted the soured rot of his own blood, but was more concerned with why someone had cut off communications. He did not think Kiara possessed the knowledge to do so. But Oleander certainly did.

  “We don’t need him to talk! We know who he brought with him!” Nicolette slammed her fists on the table and shot to her feet. “The vampires have been working with Oleander to murder our allies so they can rule over the living, but we will not be your pets! Tonight, you and your kind die for good!”

  Leontes sighed. She did have a predilection for the dramatic. And loved the sound of her own voice. But as ridiculous as Leontes found her to be, in the current climate of fear and desperation, she was having a worrisome effect.

  Wearily, Leontes looked past Nicolette and addressed Alpha. “As you well know, I am a diplomat, a negotiator, not an enforcer—”

  “Spare us, Leontes,” Nicolette said with disdain. “You hitched your star to assassins long ago.”

  Leontes raised a brow. “Really, Nicolette? Who knew you were such the poet.”

  “Who knew you were such a fool,” she said. “Your associations cost you the woman you loved. How does it feel to be nursemaid to the broken child who shattered your world?”

  Leontes went utterly still.

  The room took on an eerie silence, as if the atmosphere had completely changed, deadened somehow, eliminating all sound and energy. Everyone in the room paused. The hairs on the back of their necks rose, and their skin felt a touch of frost. It was like the unnatural quiet in the eye of a hurricane the moment before its absolute destruction demolished everything in its path.

  Leontes blinked once. Slowly.

  When his lids opened, the sockets were filled with nothing but a fathomless black.

  “Jesus,” someone muttered with abject terror.

  Leontes’ spoke in a flat tone. “When you are made to pay for such insolence, I shall revel in your ruin.”

  “Goddammit,” Alpha said. “Nicolette, keep it in your pants. And Leontes, you need to— son of a bitch. Leontes! Hey!”

  Leontes blinked again. His eyes were back to their typically intense, but clear, cobalt blue. “Is there a problem?”

  “Other than Nicolette being an idiot, let’s hope not.” Alpha gave the vampire an exasperated look. “You’re outnumbered, outgunned, and out everything. You two ambassadors are supposed to help smooth tensions between the supernatural factions. So let’s start playing nice.”

  Leontes chuckled. Yes, his diplomacy had been lacking, but it felt remarkably good.

  A loud commotion from the second floor balconies rattled the building. The iron chandeliers tremored ever so slightly.

  Leontes lifted his wrists to Alpha. “I suggest you remove the restraints.”

  Alpha smirked and snorted a laugh. “I’m not playing that nice.”

  “Oh, my friend.” Leontes glanced toward the balcony. “Unfortunately for you, the time for nice has passed.”

  As the din upstairs increased, Alpha’s smirk wilted, and he stuttered a look of confusion that slowly collapsed into understanding. And fear. Leontes thought the leader’s hair visibly greyed—his face certainly did. He stared at Leontes with growing dread.

  “No,” Alpha breathed. “You didn’t.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Kiara launched over the balcony with a crazed battle cry, tails of the coat flapping behind her. The worn wood squeaked and shook as she landed on the long table. Papers flew.

  The percussion of her arrival pushed the crowd back, shrieking, as chairs toppled. Kiara straightened, one hand gripping a large, grey wolf by its hind leg. The huge animal hung limp past the table’s edge, tongue lolling on the floor as the body swayed.

  Alpha paled. The rest of the pack stared, eyes wide.

  A shake of Kiara’s head cleared hair from her face and let loose what little was still left in the braid. Dark brunette waves cascaded down her back.

  Her voice boomed as she singsonged, “All around the werewolf den, Kiara chased the wieners. Kiara thought ‘twas all in fun. And pop went the fe-mur.”

  She grabbed the wolf’s leg with both hands and snapped the bone. A beat of stunned silence was followed by a collective gasp that filled the great hall. She released the broken wolf. It thudded to the floor. Kiara stretched out her arms, twirled her hands at the wrist, and bowed. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all week.”

  Free from the shackles, Leontes rubbed his sore wrists and sighed. “Honestly, Kiara.”

  Kiara gave the pack leader a sharp salute. “Hey Alpha!”

  Like a switch had been flipped, the shifters bolted into collective action. Several morphed into wolf form and lunged. Kiara ducked under two, missing their snapping jaws, and punched her fists upward, making contact with the wolves. Her blows sent them crashing into several more of the pack behind her.

  As three more attacked, she jumped and caught the massive iron chandelier hanging from the ceiling. She twisted and swung, sending the light fixture into a mad spin as she yelled a gleeful “Wheeee!”

  More wolves launched into the air with a feral snarl. Her kicks rocketed them across the room, where they slid to the floor in an unconscious heap.

  A crossbow bolt whizzed at her chest. She swung her feet up and kicked the bolt into the air. As she flipped up and planted her feet on the swinging chandelier, the bolt pin-wheeled down into her open hand. She twirled it in her fingers and sighted down the shooter, who frantically loaded another bolt. Kiara’s arm flicked forward. The bolt streaked across the room and pierced the shooter’s shoulder. Blood spurted. He screamed.

  Kiara cartwheeled through the air as more bolts flew her way. She landed on the narrow mantle above one of the fireplaces, scattering perfectly placed knickknacks and
rattling the swords and axes on the wall.

  “Te devorabuntur et virtute!” Nicolette swung her arms in wild, circular motions. Jagged lines of dark orange and sickly yellow magic lit up a trail from her fingertips.

  “No!” Leontes said.

  Nicolette hurtled the spell forward. Beams of magic hit Kiara square in the chest. The crowd froze in anticipation for an explosion of power. But the light disintegrated on contact, a rain of embers bouncing off like a fistful of sand.

  Without flinching, Kiara snatched a sword and battle-axe off the wall, then somersaulted down in front of the fire, landing in a low crouch, one leg stretched to the side. Her arms were splayed high, weapons winking in the flickering firelight.

  Dark curls hung over her face. Manic green eyes glittered under hooded lids. Her lips slithered into a demonic grin. She looked crazed, rabid, like she had just burst from the fiery depths of Hell, one of Satan’s lethal creatures ready to rain death and destruction.

  When the crowd charged, she laughed, and danced through the fray. With the violent grace of a psychotic ballerina, Kiara twirled, leapt, and lunged, arms swinging. The sword and ax slashed and thrust in a blur. She annihilated her way through the crowd. Her body and limbs anticipated every opponent’s move, countered each attack with bold strikes and subtle parries. The bodies of downed shifters littered her wake.

  Nicolette swung her arms, magic shooting from her fingertips again. “Te devorabun—”

  “Stop!” Leontes started forward, but Alpha gripped his arm. Leontes turned, angry. “Release me! The stupid witch will only make things—”

  “Worse. I know,” Alpha said. He turned and shouted, “Dammit, Nicolette! Stand down!”

  “Alpha!” Kiara called.

  Nicolette, Alpha, and Leontes froze. Surrounded by a violent mob, Kiara bent backwards to avoid a punch, then took a moment to point the sword at Alpha.

  “You’re next,” Kiara smiled.

  She kicked a shifter in the face and jumped over the remaining horde. Landing on the tabletop, she sprinted down its length towards the leader of the wolves.

  In a blur of speed, Leontes appeared on the table, standing directly in front of her.

  “Enough!” Leontes said sternly.

  He held up his hands, prepared to catch her as she thudded into him, but Kiara disappeared before his eyes. With her absence, Leontes now faced an arrow spearing for his heart.

  Before he even thought of moving, an axe sliced from above to cut the arrow in two. The blade thudded down into the table. Splintered arrow remains pinged harmlessly off his chest. Leontes looked up.

  Kiara finished her flip through the air and landed nearly flush against him. He gaped down at her. Kiara winked and flung the sword back. It sailed through the air to bury into a woman’s bicep. The shifter dropped her crossbow as the sword pinned her to a wall.

  Nicolette bounded up and used her shoulder to slam Leontes off the table, her guns drawn and aimed at Kiara before Leontes hit the ground.

  “Pretty good,” Kiara grinned. She front-flipped over the witch, grabbing the guns mid-air a moment before she landed behind Nicolette with one barrel pressed to the back of the witch’s head, the other sighted between Alpha’s eyes. “But not good enough.”

  Everyone who still remained conscious stared in horror, not daring to breathe.

  Kiara glared. “No one hurts Leontes.”

  Alpha gave Leontes a stunned look. “This is what you call civilized?”

  “No one is dead.” Leontes hoped he was right about that. “And there is no coup. But Rusila thought I might need backup to help you see reason.” Leontes indicated the still visible burns on his wrists and the scattered bodies of the pack. “Shall we try a more reasonable approach?”

  “Reasonable?” Nicolette’s voice went shrill. “You threw that option out the moment you brought along this psychotic deathmonger!”

  Leontes’ jaw clenched at the woman’s stupidity, but he kept any anger from his voice. “Kiara, hand me the guns. Alpha rules over every shifter in the entire Western hemisphere. Engaging him would be ill advised.”

  Kiara’s troubled eyes found Leontes. “Why do I smell your burning flesh? Was it Nicky?” Kiara’s finger trembled on the trigger. “Did she get tricky?”

  “It’s Nicolette,” the witch ground out.

  Kiara’s voice dropped to dangerous tones. “So it was you.” She cocked the gun which remained trained on the witch.

  Nicolette audibly swallowed.

  “No, Kiara.” Leontes kept his voice level and rose to his feet, smoothing his wrinkled suit. “This was all a terrible misunderstanding. They somehow thought this was a hostile visit.”

  “Still could be.” The sarcasm was lost on Kiara. Tension riveted through her shoulders, tightening her arms and twitching her fingers on the triggers.

  “Relax,” Leontes said. “There are no threats here.”

  “Except for her,” Nicolette spat.

  “Shut your mouth, Nicolette,” Alpha ordered quietly while staring down the barrel of the gun.

  “Why should I?” the witch snapped. “She’s going to kill us all anyway. That’s what Oleander always does.”

  Kiara blinked, then glanced around. “Oleander? He’s here?”

  Leontes kept his movements calm and measured as he held out his hand. “No, Kiara, he is not. Now, the guns, please.”

  “Of course, he’s not here,” the witch sneered at Kiara. “Because she’s here, and she’s standing right in front of me. The scourge of the supernatural world, the killer with no conscience. Kiara Oleander Blackwood.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Silence weighed heavy.

  “Me?” Kiara’s brow furrowed as she stared at Nicolette. “I’m not the killer.”

  Those who could move slowly backed away from Kiara, some crawling across the floor in a pathetic, desperate fashion because their injuries left them no other choice. She noticed their retreat.

  “I’m not,” she repeated in a defensive tone, glancing around at the broken and beaten crowd. “Witch, you’re just being a drama queen. Tell her, Leontes. I’m not Oleander.”

  When Leontes said nothing, Kiara flicked her eyes in his direction. He looked pained. Concerned. Worried. More so than usual.

  “Leontes?” her voice wavered slightly, laced with a twinge of fear.

  “It is not what you think,” he said quickly.

  “It’s exactly what she thinks,” Nicolette taunted. “It’s exactly what we all know. Why do you think they keep you locked away?”

  Kiara pressed her lips together. “Because it’s too dangerous for me to be out without protection.”

  “Look around!” Nicolette said, arms swinging to encompass the violent scene. “It’s not you who needs protection. It’s everyone else. From you. Murderer. Baby killer!”

  “Silence!” Leontes ordered.

  He had an overwhelming desire to see the woman’s throat slit. A bullet to the brain was a distinct possibility given the current situation. Not that he would blame Kiara in the slightest. But the rest of the bystanders might have a different view.

  Kiara’s eyes widened at Leontes. “Is that why you didn’t want me to touch the baby?”

  “No.” His hands curled into fists. He fought the urge to shout. “It was long ago, Kiara. Tales were embellished. Bedtime stories to frighten children into obedience.”

  Kiara stared at him for a moment. Then she whispered. “I’m the boogeyman?”

  Leontes scowled at his poor choice of words. Kiara was looking at him with eyes equal parts sad and horrified. Her bottom lip quivered. The situation was about to fall apart in a most destructive way. Even more than it already had. So much for his skills of diplomacy. But no one could put him at his worst faster than Kiara.

  Her hands shook slightly, the guns tremoring as her attention turned inward, distracted. Nicolette whirled, flinging her arms with a fistful of magic.

  Kiara ducked. Her leg-sweep knocked the woman’s fe
et out. Nicolette landed on her back with a thud. And she would have gotten up, but a knife pressed against her throat stopped her.

  “Kiara’s not the killer,” said a deep, smooth voice. “She’s the hero.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Nicolette stilled her body, but not her mouth. “What the hell!”

  Kiara stared intently at the guy holding the blade, which threatened to sever the nasty witch’s jugular.

  Above low-slung jeans, his torso was bare. His half-naked status did not seem to bother him, even in such a big crowd. And the way he looked, it should not.

  Handsome in a rugged, outdoorsy sort of way, his lean body was ripped with chiseled abs and a broad chest which had burnt gold hair and opened to well-muscled shoulders and arms. Fringed with heavy black lashes, the dark golden eyes were flecked with amber and glittered with a dangerous edge as he spoke to Nicolette.

  “I told you she saved Giselle from the multi-shifter, the man who called himself Oleander, and the one who also just happened to take credit for tonight’s slaughter. You said you’d explain it to Alpha.”

  A dull murmur of surprise ran through the crowd.

  “I did,” Nicolette choked. But the blade dug deep enough to draw blood.

  Alpha glared at Nicolette. “Like hell. You said Kiara killed everyone, stabbed Jaeger, and took Giselle.”

  “She did,” Nicolette said, looking like she had just swallowed battery acid, her murderous glare unsure where to land.

  The guy with the knife laughed bitterly. “Liar,” he spat, then shoved Nicolette off the table where she rolled several feet. He turned toward Kiara. “Don’t listen to her. You didn’t kill the baby. You protected her. We all owe you a debt of gratitude.”

  Kiara looked uncertain. “So I’m not the killer?”

  “Not today,” the guy said with an easy shrug. “Today you’re the savior.” He nodded toward Nicolette, who awkwardly tried to right herself. “Personally, I think she’s just jealous.”