Thrall

by Jennifer Blackstream

  “Which he did,” Arianne reminded him.

  “—and tell Moghadam that I’m concerned because you’ve trapped the Emperor and buried him in a location you refuse to reveal.”

  “It shouldn’t be a problem convincing him that I acted irrationally in an emotional fit, considering the way he arranged for my wife to be a suspect,” Arianne added.

  I shared a look with Peasblossom. Nope, that wouldn’t be hard at all.

  Liam continued. “You want me to tell him I don’t blame you, but the fact that you won’t reveal the location has put me in an untenable legal situation. If I call the Vanguard in, it will cause trouble for you.” He squinted at the paper. “If I don’t, I’m worried for Yara’s safety.” He looked up at Iman, a frown wrinkling his brow. “Who’s Yara?”

  “Me. You’re going to tell Moghadam that you discovered Nikolaos was keeping another woman, one that was not from Foundations, but was also here illegally. You will tell him she is a sorceress, but Nikolaos has somehow bound her power, keeping her weak and vulnerable. Tell him Nikolaos intended to keep her for his wife.”

  “What a horrifying thought,” I said.

  “One that will appeal to the Emperor,” Arianne pointed out. “You will tell him that you don’t want me to find out about Yara because you’re already worried about my erratic behavior, and that Ms. Renard is trying—unsuccessfully—to break the bindings on the young woman. Tell him right now your immediate concern is for her safety. You want him to meet with her, and see what he can do about helping her to stay in the country, perhaps ask him if he could find a place for her to stay where she’ll be safe.”

  “That does sound like the perfect temptation for a man pining for you and victimizing other Syrian women in the meantime,” I agreed. “But won’t he find it strange that we don’t just ask you to find her a safe place? Surely he must know that’s what you do? Especially after Jamila came to see you?”

  Arianne’s grin turned cruel. “You will tell him that Iman knew this woman. Tell him you are concerned that if I were to learn about her, in my current emotional state, I may react harshly out of jealousy.”

  “That sounds flimsy,” Peasblossom said doubtfully.

  Arianne put her hands on her hips. “To us, yes. But how do you think it will sound to a straight man who believes women are commodities to be sold for the pleasure of men?”

  Peasblossom considered that. “You have a point.”

  Arianne dropped her arms. “If this doesn’t work, we’ll be no worse off. But I would rather attempt this charade and fail than bargain with that…that…wizard for help.” She gestured at Liam. “If Detective Sergeant Osbourne makes the call, and he can insinuate it’s being done while you and I are unavailable, it will cut down on the questions Moghadam asks. He won’t think to ask too much of a someone who is not a magic user. Especially not a werewolf.” She paused, then added, “No offense.”

  “None taken,” Liam said dryly.

  “Try to convince him to meet us at Nikolaos’ house. If he suggests another location, try to make certain it’s not somewhere that will give him too much of an advantage.”

  Liam nodded and walked away, holding the note in front of him as he called. Arianne watched him, her hands clasped in front of her. She felt me watching her, and turned to face me.

  “Is there something you want to ask me, Ms. Renard?”

  I started to say no, then stopped myself. “Renee,” I said finally.

  Arianne’s face fell, and she bowed her head. “Another I failed to save.”

  “No, that’s not—” I stopped and drummed my fingers on my waist pouch. “The fire department found five bodies in the house. That’s how many people lived there. Renee, Rima, Mariam, and Kaila. Plus Aubrey, until today.”

  “But Aubrey died at the hospital, she wasn’t at the house,” Arianne said.

  “Exactly.”

  Arianne shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

  “Rima told me she was interested in forensic anthropology. She made a comment about the unidentified bodies at Highland Hills. And Renee asked me about identifying bodies, specifically people who didn’t have citizenship papers here.”

  Arianne stared at me, and I could practically see the wheels in her head turning. “You think the fire was meant to be an escape. You think…” She shook her head. “But didn’t you tell me that Aubrey said the terms of their contract dictated they couldn’t remove their tattoos—that they had to fight if someone else tried to do it? What purpose would faking their death served if the Emperor could simply enter their bodies to confirm they were still alive?”

  “There was nothing that said they had to fight not to remove each other’s tattoos,” I pressed. “Renee is a hatif. And Stavros hinted her affinity was fire. What if they dug up bodies at Highland Hills? Rima could have chosen bodies that would most closely match them, then hid the bodies in the basement, something like that. Then—”

  “They take turns holding each other down and burning off the tattoos,” Arianne murmured.

  “And then burn the house down, leaving the bodies to be found by the Emperor,” I finished.

  Peasblossom landed on my head. “Good for Renee!”

  Arianne stared into the distance. “I am truly starting to wish I’d had the chance to meet these women. They sound extraordinary.”

  Liam came back, his cell phone in his hand and a look of surprise on his face. “He’s agreed to meet us at Nikolaos’.”

  We left immediately. Arianne disguised herself once again, but she kept her appearance similar enough that I almost didn’t realize she’d changed it at all. My confusion must have shown on my face.

  “If this man knew me, then I will know when he looks at me,” she explained. “He would never expect me to disguise myself so poorly, so he will dismiss the resemblance.”

  It sounded risky, but I understood her logic. If the Emperor did have strong feelings for Arianne, and wasn’t expecting to see her, his reaction should be noticeable.

  “You still don’t have any idea who it might be?” I asked.

  Arianne fastened her seatbelt. I noticed her hands shaking, but didn’t comment.

  “I have no idea who it could be,” she said finally. “I’ve lived an…eventful life. Based on this man’s behavior, I’m sure I would have limited our relationship as much as possible. It’s likely I tried to forget him.” She looked out the window as Liam pulled out of the parking lot, the lights of the city playing over her face. “After all. No one wants more bad memories.”

  An uncharitable part of my brain wanted to point out that no one wanted more nightmares either. But Arianne was obviously struggling. I couldn’t imagine having someone I cared about charged with murder. Accused of worse crimes.

  We arrived at Nikolaos’ house to find Moghadam’s car already parked at the top of the driveway. The front door was unlocked, so we let ourselves in. I wished I could use a spell to double check the braided rope around Arianne’s waist. It had been the sorceress’ idea, an enchanted rope that would mimic the metaphysical appearance of a binding if Moghadam looked. More support for our charade that she was Yara, bound sorceress looking for sanctuary.

  Both Arianne and I checked for traps, the sorceress scanning for magic while I looked for anything that had changed since we were last here. Liam would be able to smell any unexpected visitors, so I glanced his way now and again.

  Moghadam waited in the Great Room, sitting in the same chair he’d occupied the first time we’d met him. The overhead lights were on, but turned down to a subtle glow that reminded me of a lantern. It felt warm and friendly. A sharp contrast to the anxiety trying to tie my nerve endings into knots. I kept my attention on his face, watching for his reaction when he saw “Yara.”

  Arianne was right. He definitely did a double take when he saw her.

  “Mr. Moghadam, this is Yara,” I said, gesturing at Arianne. “Yara, this is Mr. Moghadam.”


  The lawyer rose from the chair, the smile on his face a world away from the sour look he’d worn…well, almost every other time I’d seen him.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Yara.”

  “Sublatis ancoris!” Arianne whispered under her breath.

  I hadn’t expected her to act so quickly. More fool me for thinking the sorceress would bother with small talk.

  The spell lashed out at Moghadam. Without my third eye, I couldn’t see the magic, but I didn’t need to.

  I knew it didn’t work when I saw her face.

  Moghadam sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was afraid of this.”

  I stared down at the floor. At the wretched pattern of powdery white circles.

  One of them was real.

  Moghadam had secured himself in a salt circle.

  The lawyer faced Arianne, releasing all pretense that he was the helpful lawyer here to help a refugee sorceress. I cringed at the condescension that pulled at his features as he clasped his hands in front of himself like a holy man about to deliver his homily.

  “It was never my intention for our re-introduction to go this way, Arianne,” he said calmly. “I want you to know that. I was willing to be patient, let you get to know me. I had hoped you would come to see on your own everything I have to offer you.”

  Arianne’s mouth twitched, and her gaze flicked down to the floor, to the salt circle surrounding the sorcerer. Her eyes darkened and she took one shaky step forward. “Who are you?”

  “I’m going to give you one more chance, Arianne. You turned me down once. It was youth that made you too ignorant to recognize what I offered you then, but you’re older now. Let’s see if you’re wiser.”

  Arianne’s eyes bulged. “It can’t be.” She dropped the disguise, moving forward a few steps as if drawn by an unseen force. “Richard? Richard Prower?”

  Richard beamed. “I knew you would remember me.”

  Arianne’s entire body shook. It was like watching a cartoon volcano, trembling and rumbling with sharp jerks back and forth, tension building toward an inevitable explosion.

  Only it wasn’t a cartoon. And it wasn’t funny.

  Liam and I both took a step back, and Peasblossom dove under my hair. For a long minute, there seemed to be a very real possibility that Arianne was going to literally explode.

  “You’re…” she sputtered. “You… How dare you!”

  Richard frowned. “How dare I? How dare I what? Teach the influential men of this country the value to be found in the beauty of a brown-skinned wife?”

  Arianne choked.

  “Are you okay?” I asked carefully. “Who is he?”

  “He is a colonialist,” Arianne ground out, spitting out the last word as if it tasted foul. “From one of America’s oldest families. He came to this country as a boy on the Mayflower.”

  My jaw dropped. “The Mayflower?”

  Richard gave me a condescending smile. “Yes, my dear. The Mayflower. But traveling here was just one of my family’s trips overseas. We traveled to many places. Including Ebla.”

  “My parents were so insistent that I marry a sorcerer,” Arianne seethed. “They dragged me to every summit. Constantly introducing me to the other families. And then him.”

  “Your father wanted you to marry me. He saw what I could give you.”

  “My father hated you,” Arianne sneered. “As did my mother. Neither of them as much as me, but make no mistake, everyone saw you for what you were. An arrogant man who assumed his white skin came with a superior brain and breeding, and that it was his birthright to lord over everyone different from him. Even with all your power, all your influence, did you never wonder why no one would be your bride?”

  “I did not take a bride because I wanted you,” he snarled. “But you’re too proud, like so many other women in your country. You don’t recognize what men do for you. What civilized men do. You don’t see kindness when it’s offered. Realize what an honor it was that I even considered you.”

  “You don’t give, you only take,” Arianne snapped. “People are no different than possessions to you. Objects to be acquired and used—sold if you desire.”

  “I would have given you everything! The whole world on a platter!”

  Arianne sputtered. “You are literally wearing the skin of one of my countrymen!”

  “I have more to offer the world than he ever did! I—”

  His mouth snapped shut, his tirade over as suddenly as it began. He straightened his spine, smoothed his hands down his jacket. “I had planned,” he said, composing his voice as he had his clothes, “to woo you slowly. I was willing to wait for your sham of a marriage to that…woman to run its course, for you to realize that you could not possibly get what you need from another of your own sex. Not just as a sorceress, but as a woman. But now I see you need a…stronger hand.”

  He took a step forward, careful not to disturb his circle. “I understand how Iman could come to care so much for you,” he said, his voice dripping with sincerity that made my skin crawl. “I of all people know what it’s like to see you, see your power, your glory, your beauty, and wish that you could be mine. But Iman must understand, a woman needs a man. Even more so when she is of magical lineage. Your power suffered with your bond to Iman. Can’t you see that? Can’t you understand how important it is to have masculine and feminine energy?”

  His expression darkened. “Not to mention the immorality of your union. I don’t like to think how much time it will take me to scrub that sin from your soul.” He took a deep breath and nodded. “But I will. I will do whatever it takes. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Shade?” Liam asked, his voice tight.

  Moghadam lifted his chin. “Occidere.”

  “No!” Arianne screamed.

  Liam stiffened, realizing something was wrong, but unable to see what it was.

  I knew.

  I recognized the spell. A powerful spell far beyond what I was capable of.

  I could only watch as Moghadam collapsed.

  Dead.

  Chapter 24

  “What just happened?” Liam didn’t move, every muscle in his body vibrating with restrained tension. His shifted his weight from one foot to the other, leaning forward as if to get closer to the body, then forcing himself to stop. I could almost see his wolf inside him, demanding he move closer to sniff out what happened.

  I kept my eye on Arianne as I approached the corpse. “He killed himself with a spell. It’s one of the words of power.” I shook my head. “Given how strong he is, I’m surprised it worked.”

  Arianne rubbed shaking hands over her face. Sweat shone on her temples, and it was only through sheer force of witchy willpower that I didn’t back out of the room just as a precaution.

  She dropped her hands and sucked in deep breaths in short, staccato bursts. “He would have needed to weaken himself first. At full strength, it would not have worked. He planned this.”

  “So he’s dead,” Liam clarified. “Dead, gone, no longer a threat?”

  “Oh, no.” Arianne’s voice dropped to a whisper, but it didn’t sound intentional. More like she was so upset, she could barely speak. “No, I’m afraid he is now an even greater threat.”

  “Peasblossom,” I said under my breath.

  “On it,” she said grimly.

  I waited for her to make herself invisible and fly to Liam. Not that I thought Arianne would hurt him. And I was sure Liam could take care of himself. But there was something unhinged about Arianne right now, something that suggested seeing Richard Prower again had tapped into some bad memories.

  Very bad memories indeed.

  When I thought Peasblossom was in place, ready to protect Liam if the sorceress’ temper began leaking out, magically speaking, I answered his question. “He only killed the body. Richard, or the Emperor—or whatever you want to call the soul of the sorcerer—is probably on the astral plane as we speak.”

  Arianne strode forward and dropp
ed to the floor beside the fallen body. He’d broken the salt circle when he fell, his legs sliding out to scatter the salt. “He needed to break his bond with this form. We knew who he was, we had ways to track this body. Hairs he left at Suite Dreams. If he was rolling around on the floor as Iman said, there would have been something left behind I could use.”

  I assumed that had been Plan B if Moghadam hadn’t agreed to meet us.

  “I thought he could possess other people at will?” Liam asked. “Couldn’t he have just hidden in another person’s body?”

  “Think of a body as a house,” I explained. “Richard lived in this house. This is where his mail is delivered, where other people know to look for him. He can leave this house and go to someone else’s house—even break in to someone else’s house—but he’s tied to this one.”

  Peasblossom spoke from her perch on his shoulder. “Right. And magic is like the police. It can kick him out of someone else’s house, and make him stay in his house.”

  “It would have been far easier to bind him to this body,” Arianne said, laying a gentle hand on Moghadam’s forehead, “than to force him out of it.”

  “Exactly,” Peasblossom agreed.

  “And staying with that analogy, Richard has now abandoned his property to seek out somewhere he can squat until he regains the strength to steal a new house,” I added.

  “So he’s weak now. That’s good, right?” Liam asked.

  “In a manner of speaking.” Arianne pulled out her phone and began sending a message to someone. “It means we are on the clock, as you would say.”

  Liam’s brows furrowed.

  “On a clock,” I supplied. “She means we have a limited amount of time to catch him. Richard had to weaken himself for that spell to kill him, and he already would have been weakened by the death of his thrall. So this is the ideal time to catch him.”

  “So he has to find someone with a tattoo?” Liam asked. “That’s just Stavros, right? Everyone else…”

  He trailed off.

  I shared a look with Arianne, and for one perfect moment, we shared a hope that my wild theory was right. That the women from Foundations weren’t dead. That the fire had been part of an elaborate escape plan.