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Visci (Soul Cavern Series Book 2)

Page 3

by Venessa Giunta


  She listened to her mom tell David about knowing Claude when she was young.

  “He wanted us to marry. And I liked him well enough.” Pensiveness infused her voice in a way Jenny hadn’t heard before. And the bit about almost getting married! She’d hadn’t heard that before either. “But sometimes you get a feeling.”

  “Which feeling?”

  “Claude is…ambitious.”

  “He wanted to marry you because…he would go further with you as his wife?”

  “Exactly.”

  David grinned at her, though it wasn’t amused. But Jenny saw Mecca in that grin, and it made her miss her best friend.

  “So you’re a big-shot Visci, then?” he said. There was no accusation in it.

  Her mom lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I was.”

  David nodded.

  “Did you ever find out why Emilia took Mecca?” her mom asked.

  “Ken said that you saw what that woman… Noor? What she did to the Visci guy at the hotel.”

  “I did.”

  Jenny had seen too. Noor basically sucked the guy’s life out. He’d been a shriveled husk on the ground when Noor had finished with him. Jenny shuddered.

  “Emilia wanted to use Mecca as a weapon.”

  Jenny gasped softly and slapped her hand over her mouth. Dammit.

  David looked up, and her mom turned in her seat.

  “Jennifer Aileen.”

  She stood. It wasn’t like she could hide that she was there anymore. They’d both seen her now. So she came down the stairs and stepped into the kitchen. Their stares burned into her the entire way. She tried to come up with some excuse but decided she didn’t need one. She sat in the chair opposite David.

  “How long were you there?” her mom asked.

  “The entire time.”

  “Jenny, I told you I wanted you to stay upstairs.”

  “I know. But I’m a grown adult, and I’m already part of this. So keeping me in the dark is not helping.”

  “Keeping you out of things will keep you safe.”

  Jenny looked at David. “It didn’t keep Mecca safe, did it?”

  A moment went by as he looked at her with pain in his eyes. She tried not to flinch against it. Finally, he shook his head. “That isn’t the same. I agree with your mom.”

  “That’s too bad. I’m involved. Period.”

  “What do you think you’re going to do?” Her mom’s tone was harsh, but her eyes were…frightened?

  “I don’t know.” She really didn’t. “Maybe I can help in whatever is going on. But at the very least, if something happens, I don’t want to be flailing around like an idiot.”

  “What is it you think is going on?” David asked.

  “I don’t know that either. And there’s the problem. You’re all keeping it from me. Whatever it is, it got Mecca kidnapped and my dad killed.”

  David exchanged a glance with her mom. They both sighed, almost in unison.

  Her mom’s jaw was set. “I’m not willing to risk you.”

  “It’s not your decision.”

  “Whether I share information with you? Yes, that’s absolutely my decision.”

  “Sure. Leave me to the wolves with no protection.”

  Her mom raised a brow. “Don’t you think you’re being melodramatic?”

  “Am I?” Jenny asked. “It’s hard to be sure, because you’re keeping me in the dark. I don’t know about these people, but I’m going to end up dealing with them. You’re leaving me ignorant, which means they will always have the upper hand.”

  “You won’t be dealing with them,” her mom said. “There is no reason for that.”

  “Did you see the people at the cemetery?”

  “There were a lot of people at the cemetery.”

  “Yes, but there were three people who weren’t in our group. They watched us. I think they’re Visci.”

  Her mom looked startled, but David asked, “Why do you think that?”

  God, he had all the annoying questions. Jenny wasn’t sure why she thought they were Visci. She had no proof or even a logical reason. “I just do.”

  “If they are, you should stay away from them,” he said, his voice intense. “They won’t bring anything good.”

  “They took off when I tried to go to them. If they were a threat, they wouldn’t run.”

  “They’re Visci,” David said. “They’re always a threat.”

  “Am I?” Jenny asked.

  David’s frown pulled at the corners of his mouth.

  Vindicated, Jenny continued. “We don’t all kidnap people and hold them against their will.”

  “Point taken,” David said.

  “You haven’t told Mecca about me, have you?” The thought nauseated her.

  “Not yet. It hasn’t come up in conversation.”

  The statement felt ludicrous. On the one hand, how would it come up casually in conversation? On the other, how could he have not brought it up?

  Her skepticism must have shown on her face because he said, “She’s in the hospital. We haven’t talked much beyond that.”

  Jenny nodded. There was something that rang false about his words, but she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what. “Don’t tell her.”

  “I’m not going to promise that.”

  His tone bristled under her skin, but she kept her own level. “It isn’t your place to tell her.”

  “I’m her father. It’s my place to tell her anything that might…”

  She crossed her arms. “That might what?”

  David glanced out the bay window.

  “Hurt her?” Jenny finished for him. When he didn’t deny it, she continued. “You really think I would hurt her?”

  He gave a heavy sigh and rubbed one hand over his face, ending with a pinch on the bridge of his nose. “Of course not.”

  Jenny leaned toward him so that he had to look at her. “Then don’t act like I’m dangerous to her, because I’m not. But you need to let me have the conversation with her.”

  “You know she’s right,” her mom said. Jenny was mildly surprised at the defense.

  “It is unfair that Jenny knows about Mecca, but Mecca is in the dark. There is an imbalance there.”

  “But they need to work it out on their own. They’re not kids anymore.”

  The surprise at that was less mild. Jenny’s first impulse was to throw her mom’s hypocrisy back in her face. But that wouldn’t do anything to help this situation. So she filed that bit away for later.

  David sighed again. He seemed to be good at it, as much as he practiced. “All right. But tell her soon.”

  The words carried the threat that if she didn’t, he would.

  Chapter Two: Claude

  Claude’s hazy reflection gazed back at him from the lift’s doors. With his slight build and blond, delicate features, most people underestimated him because he looked young. So young. He counted on that response in most cases and never more than right now.

  The doors opened, and he stepped onto the plush carpet on the fourth floor of the Visci compound. Near the end of the hall, he would go through a stout wooden door—most of the doors were stout and wooden here—and into the lion’s den where he would need to manipulate master manipulators.

  He wasn’t nervous.

  He was very, very good.

  But he was a bit anxious.

  Recently, Emilia Laos, the Visci ruler of Atlanta was killed by Mecca Trenow, the young woman both he and Emilia, separately, had intended on using as a weapon. And while Claude had expected to have Mecca kill Emilia, he hadn’t planned on it happening so soon. It left a vacuum in the power structure of the city that he hadn’t anticipated having to deal with yet.

  The tension he felt had more to do with adapting his plans than with any nerves at being in a room with Visci who were about to become very defensive and not a little frightened—though they would never admit to either.

  Salas met him at the door. “She is to be released in a we
ek. Perhaps less. I don’t know whether she will go back to the college or to her father’s home. But judging from the fight they had this morning, I suspect it will be the college.”

  Mecca suffered a bad broken leg and had been taken to the emergency room right after…the incident.

  “And Will? Where did he flit off to?”

  Salas inclined his head. “He is with her. He has not left the hospital.”

  “Interesting.”

  Will, Emilia’s little pet human, would need Visci blood soon if he were to survive. Claude wondered how the man would get it. Anculi rarely moved from one Visci to another, and so if an anculus’s normal life span had been expended, they usually died within a few weeks of their Visci’s departure. “I will enjoy seeing how that plays out.”

  “May I be of additional service?” his man asked with a hand on the knob.

  “No. I believe the rest is up to me.” Claude straightened his suit jacket and gave Salas a nod.

  The door opened in front of him, and he stepped through into the conference room where the Council met. A broad, oval table encircled by a dozen leather executive chairs, dominated the large room. Though there were no windows, electric wall sconces every few feet warmed the place with golden light thrown from behind amber covers.

  “You took long enough,” Thomas Eli said. A short man with a circle of bright orange hair ringing his skull, Thomas complained whenever given the chance, but he was an excellent leader in Charlotte, maintaining the status quo. Claude expected that he could count on the man’s support in the coming weeks, as things settled.

  “My apologies,” Claude said with sincerity and a short bow. He scanned the room. All the Council leaders who’d attended the Maze Party remained, along with each Visci’s attendant entourage. It had been required of them, what with Emilia’s demise. “I appreciate you all making yourselves available for this meeting.”

  Murmurs shuffled through the group. Then silence fell.

  “I expect you’ve all heard by now, but if you haven’t, let me please make the official announcement. Emilia Laos, head of Atlanta, was killed in the woods of this property. Her body has been retrieved and will be examined thoroughly. We do not know who is responsible, but an investigation is already underway, and we will find out.”

  “Was it a half-breed?” Tony Mercado called out. Arabella Connelly shot him daggers from across the table.

  “As I said,” Claude continued, “we do not know yet, but we will find out. In the meantime—”

  “Who will lead in Atlanta?” Tony again. Claude would be glad to shut him up.

  “Exactly,” he said instead. “We need to nominate an interim head so that we don’t lose the city to chaos.”

  “You, Claude?” Arabella asked in her lilting southern drawl. The glint in her eye and the set of her soft lips made Claude think she was being sarcastic.

  “Me? No.” Claude truly did not want to lead Atlanta.

  He had a much greater purpose.

  “I could do it,” Thomas Eli said. “Charlotte and Atlanta are close to each other. It would not be too difficult.” His tone conveyed honest, innocent intent, but Claude didn’t trust that tone at all. And judging from the looks around the table, he wasn’t the only one.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Tommy,” Tony Mercado said. “You can barely keep your own city under control. There’s no way you’d be able to handle Atlanta.”

  Thomas puffed up, his face turning red. As he began to sputter, chatter started up. A few of the less powerful Visci, leaders of the smaller cities, like Raleigh and Birmingham, rumbled their discontent.

  Claude raised his hands. “Please. Ladies, gentlemen. Let us settle down. I am a foreigner here. I only came to visit Emilia, whom I’d known for centuries, and enjoy the Maze Party.” He paused and lowered his eyes briefly, for the effect of grief.

  It seemed to work, as everyone quieted.

  “I have no interest in leading Atlanta, but I do not see it as…let us be frank…safe in allowing any of you, as heads of your own cities, to also rule Atlanta. I am sure you will all agree that the power imbalance would only lead to instability, rather than what we are striving for—stability and peace. Yes?”

  The smaller city leaders nodded, but the more powerful among them looked away with varying small, dismissive gestures.

  “I propose that we name a local to step in, just for now. I am happy to stay for as long as the Council feels I am needed to help this temporary leader make sure things move along smoothly.”

  “And who would we choose?” Arabella asked. Her light and playful smile held something behind it, Claude knew. Cunning and ruthlessness. He wondered if she had someone in mind already.

  He did. A full blood named James, whom Claude knew would be easily controlled. But he waited a moment, to see whether anyone suggested other names. It would be easier to get approval for his preference if he didn’t put his choice forward first.

  A commotion down the hall filtered through, the sound of at least one raised voice, a woman, coming closer to the room. Claude couldn’t help being distracted, as had everyone else. They all turned to the door as it burst open.

  A small, compact woman entered, dark hair perfectly flowing around her head and barely brushing the edges of her shoulders. Her gaze raked across the faces of those seated at the table until it finally rested on Claude, who stood several paces to her right. “I would speak with you about Emilia Laos and the murder of my husband.”

  Titters traveled around the table.

  Claude only just caught his mouth before it fell open. He had not expected Carolyn Barron to show up here, at the Council meeting. How had she even gotten into the compound? He considered all the ways this could go wrong.

  Or right.

  “Carolyn,” he said gently as he approached. “Let us step outside.” He gestured toward the door she’d just come through.

  “I will not be railroaded,” she said to him, eyes hard.

  It had been many decades since he’d been this close to her. He’d forgotten her fire.

  “I am not railroading you.” He wanted to see what the others were doing, but he knew looking back at them would be interpreted as weakness. So instead, he said, “Come with me for a moment, and I will tell you what’s going on. After, we can return to this room, and you are welcome to be a part of the discussions.” He shifted into a new plan. A potentially better plan.

  “She isn’t a member of the Council.” Tony Mercado again.

  Claude really wanted to tear his throat out.

  “She doesn’t belong here.”

  Claude flashed a glare at him and, judging from the other man’s flinch, all of Claude’s anger showed in his face. But he kept his voice level. “Carolyn and I were children together before you were even a wish in your mother’s heart. She has just lost her husband. Show a bit of decorum.” He laid a hand on Carolyn’s shoulder and whispered to her, “Please. For a moment.”

  She let herself be led into the hall.

  Salas, still posted out there, gave his master a deep bow of apology—Claude would deal with him later—and stepped away to give them privacy.

  “I told you on the phone,” Claude said, trying to sound gentle. “I took care of everything.”

  Her green eyes flashed. “What does that mean, exactly?”

  “Emilia is dead.” He looked at the closed door and back at Carolyn. He couldn’t tell whether she was surprised about Emilia’s death or whether she’d assumed his words had meant Emilia was dead. He found his inability to read her mildly concerning. “I cannot advise them that I killed Emilia in retaliation for murdering your husband, of course.”

  Her gaze cleared, and her eyes narrowed at him. “What have you told them?” she asked, taking half a step back from him.

  He raised his hands in surrender. “Nothing, really. That she was slain the night of the Maze Gathering and that we don’t know who did it.”

  “Where is the body?”

  “Handled.�
�� Startled that she asked about Emilia’s body, he suppressed the heavy feeling of alarm that her question gave rise to.

  “I want to see it.”

  “That is not possible.”

  Carolyn leaned forward until he could feel her breath wave across his skin and smell the faint floral scent she wore. “You would deny your queen?”

  He closed his eyes for a moment and inclined his head toward her. “I would deny you nothing, my queen. I had the body burned so that it could not be examined and evidence of my involvement found. You understand, yes?”

  She studied him, and he wasn’t entirely sure that she would believe. And when she finally said, “Very well,” he still wasn’t sure whether she believed him. But the immediate threat was gone, at least.

  “Will you join us?” He indicated the entrance again. “We are discussing a temporary successor to keep Atlanta under control until a new leader is appointed. I am sure that the opinion of a royal will carry much weight.”

  “A royal in a Council meeting. Won’t they be scandalized.” It wasn’t a question.

  He opened the door for her, and they returned to the room.

  As they entered, chatter slid into silence. Claude expected that by now they all knew they were in the presence of royalty. Not everyone understood who Carolyn was when she’d rushed in, but Claude was sure those who’d been ignorant had been schooled while he’d been in the hall with her. And that was the other reason he’d wanted to take her out there. To leave the Council to do what it did best: talk.

  He offered Carolyn his own seat.

  Chapter Three: Jenny

  Jenny followed the room numbers down the hospital hall. The scent of antiseptic, while not strong, had been present since she’d entered. She didn’t really like hospitals.

  Jenny had been thinking a lot about this meeting with Mecca but still wasn’t sure exactly how to handle it. She recognized her best friend was Jivaja, and she was fine with it. But Mecca didn’t know she was Visci yet, Jenny didn’t think.

  In London, Noor, the Jivaja who killed the guy sent to meet them, had given Jenny the impression that Jivaja hunted Visci. Would Mecca be the same?

  She hated that she wasn’t sure.

 

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