The Rainmaker

by Petra Landon

  Thank the Lord.

  “He created an artifact.”

  “I know about it” he said, the deep voice rumbling over her.

  “You can have it” she told him.

  He arched an eyebrow eloquently, mutely communicating his skepticism.

  “You don’t have to take my word for it. I’ll allow you to verify the artifact before we strike a deal.”

  “What do you want?”

  “What ElMorad does best.” She raised her chin. “Kill a Chosen.”

  She didn’t have to say that it was a powerful Chosen that needed killing. Taking out the ones with great power had once been ElMorad’s speciality. The assassin, they called him. In whispers, of course, and behind his back. No one would dare say it to his face.

  Something dark flashed in the pale eyes. It had her fighting to hold her ground.

  Please, please, Lord. Let him agree to this.

  “No.”

  She opened her mouth, desperate to persuade him. She had no more doors to knock on, after him.

  “Don’t push your luck, little girl” he chided her calmly. “If you know about ElMorad, you know what he’s capable of.”

  Her eyes closed in defeat. She had lost. It was done. Her last card was played out.

  The pale eyes watched her, a puzzled light in their depths. As she made to turn away, he reached out to lazily to encircle her neck with his palm, the loose grip holding her in place. Her reaction to the threat set him wondering anew. She stood her ground unflinchingly, meeting his eyes without fear.

  “Who’re you with?” he asked her, pale eyes searching her face.

  “With?”

  “What kind of Chosen are you?”

  I wish I knew.

  “I’m with the Blutsaugers.” It was the simple answer.

  “You’re not one” he stated confidently.

  For just a moment, she wondered idly how he could know that for sure. The only Chosen who could sniff a Blutsauger out were the Wyrs, and he was not a Wyr. She knew what he was, what the rumors said he was. It was why she had taken the extraordinary risk of confronting him.

  He continued to study her silently, the pale eyes raking her face. She made herself stand still under his gaze, the fight leached out of her.

  “A word of advice, little girl” the rich voice, with the hint of an accent, drawled out. “Next time, I won’t be as nice.”

  She laughed, a tinkling sound with a distinct lack of amusement. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  You’ll never see me again.

  This young girl was entirely too cocky for the dangerous game she played, he mused. He squeezed her neck, exerting gentle pressure to drive home his message. She merely raised her chin to meet his eyes squarely. His eyes narrowed at her response. Something did not add up here. Who was she, he wondered.

  He withdrew his hand, releasing her. “Out” he said curtly, pointing dismissively at the window.

  She walked away, without a backward glance. The man bathed in moonlight watched with a furrowed brow as she climbed on to the sill to disappear into the night.

  His eyes wandered the room absently while his mind replayed the encounter again. His plan had been to leave in the morning. The affair had become a bore. He would not be back next year. But now, he hesitated, wondering if he might stay another day. The brash and foolhardy girl had piqued his interest. There was a mystery to her. It would take a particularly impetuous and reckless Chosen to confront ElMorad. Or a desperate one. The thought had him frowning.

  Hawk waited for Tasia to bid her Shifter escorts goodbye, before suggesting they go up to the Pack Room. Duncan had come through handsomely, sending over a contingent for Tasia. Joaquim, Evgeny and Michael, all Hawk’s were-pack mates and well-acquainted with Tasia, had joined them. Once the decision to stay in had been made, the Shifters had been invited to join them at the condo Sara and Hawk shared. With Caro joining them, they had been a party of seven. The evening had been fun, allowing Tasia to forget her dilemma for a few hours.

  “The Pack Room’s busy tonight” Hawk remarked, as they walked up to the fourth floor.

  Tasia wasn’t surprised by the news. It was not that late, on a Saturday night. Most Shifters held jobs, like regular humans. Thus, the Pack Room was in great demand over the weekends.

  Upstairs, the vast room was crowded, knots of people scattered around it.

  Hawk cast a knowledgeable glance around the room. “Alph’s Room” he muttered to Tasia, expertly guiding her through the throng.

  Tasia caught a glimpse of Elisabetta ensconced in a group, with Stefan Simeonov by her side. She had noted fading bruises on Evgeny’s face this evening. Fresh ones, not remnants from the fight in the Café before. One of his were-pack mates had hinted at Evgeny’s involvement in another fight at the Lair. Tasia, acquainted with Evgeny since her first days at the Lair, found this sudden surge of altercations involving the young Shifter inexplicable. She couldn’t help but wonder whether the latest altercation had also involved Simeonov’s Shifters, like before. The thought stirred a faint sense of unease in her. There had been something about the other brawl — a subtle tension in Joaquim, coupled with Stefan Simeonov’s smugness, that had set Tasia wondering. Luis’ cryptic warning about the blue-eyed Were-Alpha had only left Tasia more disquieted.

  “What?” Hawk inquired, navigating them through the crowd in the Pack Room.

  Tasia shook her head. A vague sense of unease was not enough. Hawk was hot-headed when it came to her, like he was with Sara. She’d have to tread carefully.

  The door to the Alpha’s Room stood ajar. For once, the small room brimmed with people. Inside, Sienna sat regally in the Alpha’s chair, a glass of Scotch from his private stash in her hand. In conversation with Sienna, seated in the single chair across the large desk was Maartje. To Tasia’s surprise, Maartje too held a glass of amber liquid in her hand. The female Were-Alpha wore a half-smile on her face, as she listened to Sienna. The Alpha lounged beside them, leaning against his desk, flanked by Duncan, Luis and Atsá. Across the room, in the small sitting area, Nandini seemed engrossed in conversation with Jason.

  “Tasia and Hawk.” Sienna hailed them, raising her glass in a salute. “Where did you kids run off to? Duncan says you went out to dinner.”

  “Yup.” Hawk came to a stop inside the room. “Tasia’s been cooped up at the Lair. I thought she might enjoy a night out.”

  Supremely conscious of the larger-than-life presence leaning against the desk, Tasia kept her gaze studiously away from a certain Alpha with grounds to counter Hawk’s words.

  “You enjoyed yourself, Tasia?” Duncan inquired, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he glanced down at her.

  “Very much. Thank you for the entourage, Duncan.” Tasia was grateful. She had needed the few hours away from the Lair.

  “You’re welcome. Hawk made a rather impassioned plea.” Duncan smiled, directing a look at Hawk. “Anything that has young Hawk hopping has my support.”

  “Duncan” Hawk protested half-heartedly, an answering grin on his face.

  “Hawk is a credit to his Were-Alpha” Atsá said quietly.

  Hawk looked nonplussed, unsure of how to take his grandfather’s words.

  Duncan, on the other hand, knew exactly how to handle the compliment. “Thank you, Atsá.”

  Atsá inclined his head graciously.

  “Where did Hawk take you, Tasia?” Luis, hitherto silent, diverted the conversation deftly.

  Tasia directed an affectionate glance at Hawk. “Sara and I convinced him to stay in.”

  It had taken more than Sara and her. Hawk had been adamant that Tasia deserved a night out. Only when Caro had added her voice to the other two had Hawk given in.

  “Tasia cooked for us. Something with quinoa and vegetables that totally blew our minds” Hawk said enthusiastically.

  Maartje, avidly following the conversation, finally gave her curiosity free rein. “Us?”

  Tasia noted the subtle specu
lation in Maartje’s eyes as they rested on Hawk and her.

  “There were seven of us” Hawk answered easily. “Alph doesn’t allow Tasia out without Shifter guards, Maartje.”

  “Yes, I noticed” she said dryly.

  Duncan’s were-pack was getting awfully cozy with the Wizard, Maartje mused. She wondered whether it was because of Hawk, or whether the orders came directly from Duncan. Atsá was happy with his burgeoning relationship with Hawk and Sara, where there had been none before, so Maartje was content to leave things be, but she couldn’t help speculating, all the same.

  Sienna looked surprised. “You like to cook, Tasia?”

  “I do.” Tasia hesitated. “I had ambitions to go to culinary school once, Sienna.”

  Hawk turned to her. “I didn’t know that, Tas.”

  Tasia shrugged lightly. “It was a long time ago, Hawk.”

  “Want some of the Alpha’s Scotch, Tasia?” Sienna offered, shooting him an impish glance as she made free with his alcohol. “It’s good stuff.”

  Raoul’s lips twitched at Sienna’s baiting of him.

  “Quite futile, Sienna.” He roused himself, determined to make the witchling meet his eyes. “The witchling doesn’t like the taste of Scotch. Or perhaps it’s my Scotch she objects to” he added blandly, noting the astonishment in Maartje’s eyes.

  The subtle challenge in his voice had Tasia meeting his gaze. The gold eyes met hers, impassive as usual, but deep in the depths, lurked an awareness.

  “I trust you. Is that not enough to stop this dance of ours?”

  Conscious of the eyes on them, Tasia opened her mouth, ready with a quip.

  “I have news” Roman announced from the doorway, his precipitous statement successfully drawing all eyes to him.

  Saved by the bell.

  “The incident at The Games” Roman said cryptically, an air of suppressed excitement about him.

  Raoul glanced around the room. Maartje was the only one not actively involved in the investigation. She was capable and shrewd, and, much like Atsá, well-versed in navigating the pitfalls in their world. He’d already been mulling the idea of including her in the new outreach to Chosen factions he was ready to begin.

  He reached forward to seal the room, only to see Simeonov striding towards them, followed more unhurriedly by Elisabetta.

  “Is it her, Roman?” Sienna inquired urgently, even before the room had been sealed.

  Nandini and Jason, who had glanced up at Roman’s precipitous entrance, broke off their conversation at Sienna’s query, their attention on him.

  Roman nodded mutely, his eyes on the Alpha.

  Tasia slipped away, making her way across the room to Nandini and Jason. Sienna followed. As did Hawk.

  Raoul sealed the Alpha’s Room after Elisabetta. “You’re up, Durovic.”

  “There were two unusual incidents at The Games this year” Roman announced. “An explosion, unusual and unexplained, and a strong rumor that a girl went missing.”

  “Anyone injured by the explosion, Durovic?” the Alpha inquired.

  Roman shook his head. “Went off in an uninhabited area in the dead of night. No one’s sure whether it was an accident or deliberate, but the whispers say the girl went missing the same night as the explosion. The Clan’s frantic search for her the next morning seems to suggest that her disappearance might be related to it.”

  “She was guarded by the Clan” he continued. “Her presence at the event caused some talk. The Vampires are not known to bring young recruits to The Games.”

  “Recruits!” Nandini echoed Sienna’s stricken expression. “The missing girl is Undead?”

  Roman shot her a look, his voice gentling. “My source says she appeared really young, unlike how seasoned Vampires start to look after a few decades away from the sun. Since she was in Blutsauger company, they concluded that she was a recent convert. That’s part of the mystery about her — such fresh recruits don’t usually go to The Games.”

  “It’s the logical conclusion to draw, Sienna” Jason reassured her. “It doesn’t mean that she was one, though. There’s a reason the Undead are called the Clan. Anyone in Clan circles is naturally assumed to be a Vampire.”

  “What else, Roman?” Duncan prompted him.

  “There was speculation regarding her presence at The Games. After her disappearance, there was also talk of how strictly guarded she’d been. It’s what provoked the rumors that the explosion had distracted her guards and enabled her to slip away.”

  “She was with the Lombardis?” Luis inquired.

  “Oh yes.”

  “The Games are still held at the usual location, Roman?” Atsá inquired.

  “Yes. Her absence was discovered soon after the explosion, and Monseigneur had his Blutsaugers spread out over the forest to track her.”

  “You’re sure they didn’t find her, Durovic?” Raoul asked. “I don’t see how anyone escapes the leeches in a forest at night.”

  “They didn’t find her that night, Merceau. My source is confident about it. He says the Clan were frantic the next morning, clearly still searching for the girl. They might’ve caught up with her later, of course.”

  “Perhaps, she had help getting away from the leeches” Elisabetta suggested.

  “Our mother” Nandini offered hesitantly.

  “I doubt it, Nandini.” Raoul shook his head. “The Games were nearly two months ago. If your mother had her, she’d have crowed about it when we met. At the end, when it was clear she wasn’t getting her way, she brought out the big guns. I doubt she’d have kept this little nugget to herself.”

  “Moreover, as far as we know, there has been no rift between the Lady and her Blutsauger allies” Roman reminded them. “There’s no reason to snatch her from the Lombardis.”

  “I believe she ran from the Vampires and got away scot free” Sienna said firmly.

  Nandini, her own getaway from her mother’s guards still fresh, said nothing. She’d been lucky to have assistance during her bid for freedom. She wondered whether the young girl, her half-sister, as the others suspected, had been similarly lucky to encounter an ally willing and powerful enough to assist her.

  “I’ll have more soon” Roman directed at Sienna, as well as the Alpha. “This was just the first of my sources.”

  Sienna turned to the Alpha, meeting his gaze directly. “What do we do now?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Faoladh has men on the ground in Venice. If she’s back with the Lombardis, we’ll know. Meanwhile, while Durovic works his sources from The Games, we wait for your Guardian friend to get us The Prophecy records. That gives us a few days.”

  Sienna said nothing, her eyes on him.

  “If she’s out there, Sienna, we’ll find her” he assured her. “For now, we have to reach out to other Chosen.”

  Raoul glanced around the room. “She’s building an army. We must reach out, build alliances, and tell the Chosen how far she’s willing to go to further her ambitions. Faoladh is working on influential First Ones. While the Ancients are a priority, I intend to reach out to every Chosen faction that’s willing to work with us.”

  Tasia straightened. Hawk stiffened beside her. For a moment, no one said anything. Sienna glanced at Jason, who grimaced, shaking his head. The Shifters were all staring at the Alpha, while Duncan wore an unusually somber expression.

  The Alpha met Roman’s eyes. “If there’s a civil war, the First Ones will decide the outcome.”

  Raoul could see dawning realization in Durovic’s eyes.

  For the first time, the Alpha was openly admitting that the Chosen might be headed for strife. Not just any disagreement, but large-scale hostilities that would pit Chosen against Chosen.

  Tasia shook off her preoccupation with her own quandary. This was bad. If the Chosen descended into anarchy, no one would be safe, and she’d need the Pack more than ever — along with every ally she could count on.

  “Not just the First Ones. I never underestimate the Wyrs in a
fight, Merceau.” Roman’s voice hardened. “But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  “We might not be able to stop her in time, Durovic” the Alpha countered. This had been hard for him to admit, even to himself. “We have to be ready. She will unleash her army without hesitation. I’m going to make sure we have one to counteract her, if we need it.”

  Roman said nothing. Merceau was thinking like a Wyr, readying for a war while strategizing to stop it. He knew that the Alpha would have a hard time convincing the First Ones of the threat Lady Bethesda posed to the Chosen. Centuries of unbroken peace had made the First Ones complacent. They’d look upon this matter as something that only affected the Wizards. Some of his more powerful brethren considered themselves primarily the custodians of old magic. They would not be swayed into joining Lady Bethesda in her quest for power, but neither would they agree to bestir themselves to calm the strife in the Chosen world. Not unless it affected them personally, and by then, it would be too late.

  “I’ll do everything I can” Roman assured the Alpha, determined to stop the Lady. She was a threat to them all. Plus, he had a personal axe to grind with her.

  Raoul nodded gravely. Roman Durovic was a formidable Ancient to have on their side, with the ears of some influential leaders.

  His expression hardened. “I intend to win, Durovic. Make no mistake, I won’t let Lady Bethesda take over my world.”

  Jason let out a soft chuckle that broke the gravity of the occasion. “My money is on you, Raoul Merceau. In fact, I’m counting on you.” He sobered up. “She killed my folks. I haven’t forgotten.”

  Unaware of this bit, Nandini looked aghast.

  Sienna, seated beside him, hooked her arm through Jason’s. “She’s not going to win, Jason” she said firmly. “I have Da to avenge, too.”

  “Not that you need any votes of confidence, Merceau” Roman added. “But Lady B doesn’t know what’s about to hit her.”

  “She suspects, Roman” Duncan remarked. “Faoladh has a point — Raoul has her rattled.”

  “Yes” Atsá chimed in quietly. “He does.”

  The Alpha’s gold eyes met Roman Durovic’s, before glancing around the room.