Prince of Shadows

by Nancy Gideon

  “You were very specific in voicing that. Loudly.”

  She sucked a mortified breath. “I was loud?”

  “If we’d had neighbors, I’d be apologizing to them this morning.” He mimicked her cries. “ ‘Oh, yes! Oh, right there. Just like that. There. That’s perfect.’ Maybe I could have convinced them we were hanging pictures.”

  She snorted a laugh. “I didn’t think men were supposed to be good at taking directions. You’re very good at it.” She gave him a squeeze and sighed. She sounded happy. He hoped so.

  “Just being thorough. I aim to please . . . you.”

  Kendra tipped her head back so she could see his face, then pushed up his sunglasses so their stares could meet and mate as heatedly as their bodies had. “You did.”

  With his hands on the seat of her pants, Cale boosted her up so they could kiss. Until a rough throat clearing interrupted them. Cale leaned back to stab a glare at Wesley and Colin.

  Wes shook his head. “Cale, you are trying your damnedest to put a good spin on monogamy.”

  “I’d recommend it . . . once you find your own mate.” He scooped his arm easily about Kendra’s waist, tucking her possessively to his side before lowering his sunglasses again.

  “How’s the head?” His brother smirked.

  “Wishing it were attached to someone who was sleeping.”

  Colin pressed his shoulder. “We’ll walk you in.”

  Again, the show of solidarity left Cale somewhat at a loss. “I can find my own way. But you’re welcome to join me.”

  After leaving their outerwear in the foyer, they found they were the last to arrive, with the exception of James, who’d gone with Bull to meet Silas in Reno. Bram was seated in his chair beside a blazing fire while the other princes stood idly about. Cale’s appearance brought the majority of them to greet him, an unusual occurrence that didn’t escape Bram’s narrowed eyes when they moved as a unified group across the long hall. Cale inclined his head with a terse “My king.”

  Bram gave him a brief nod, his attention on Kendra. “You should not be here, Princess, yet here you are again.”

  “My king.” She made a pretty curtsy while Cale retained his firm hold. “I believe negotiations will proceed quicker if my cousin is assured of my safety immediately upon arrival.”

  Her logic didn’t please their leader, but he couldn’t argue it. “You will not speak unless at my direction.”

  “Or mine,” Cale added in subtle challenge. “I believe she is my responsibility.”

  “And you’d do well to remember it, boy.”

  “I recall our conversation, my king.”

  Obvious tension crackled between them, but Bull’s arrival disrupted it. He crossed to his ruler and bent to speak softly in his ear, then Bram announced, “Our guest is here. Assemble, my sons. Cale, by me.”

  While Bull discreetly helped Bram to his feet, Cale took his place beside him as the other princes toed an aggressive line down the length of the hall. Cale kept his hand curled about Kendra’s arm, as much to restrain himself as her. He was very aware of Bull’s presence close behind them.

  Cale wasn’t sure how seeing Silas again would affect him until the tall Shifter entered the room and the past rushed back in a seething tidal wave. The intimidating disdain Cale had endured as a child just to be close to Kendra, the cool mockery that provoked and wounded when he was a boy, their fierce antagonism as teens that turned to dangerous rivalry as adults. The awful instant when the last clear thing he’d seen out of his left eye was the flash from the short hidden blade Silas slashed across his face. The terrible pain of it, the humiliation and shame. All of it roiled to the surface the instant their stares met and those cold gray eyes pierced through him, then dismissed him as Silas focused on Kendra.

  Cale’s hand tightened reflexively on her arm. He could feel the emotions rattling through her as her cousin grew closer. She didn’t pull to escape his grasp. Resigned, Cale opened his hand to release her. Kendra hesitated, glancing up at him, her expression conflicted, until he said softly, “Go ahead.”

  About halfway down the hall, her dignified steps faltered and she broke into a run. Her glad cry cut through Cale’s heart as she launched herself into Silas’s arms, hugging tight.

  Cale stood still and unblinking. That embrace seemed to last forever. There was no way to describe the expression on her face as anything but what he’d feared to see. Love. Joyous, unabashed, tearful love. Silas whispered something to her to get her to let go and assume a place at his side. With his arm about her, he bent to press a kiss to her temple, causing her to beam up at him like he was the second coming.

  A crippling sense of loss roared and wailed within Cale, but his outward appearance never betrayed it as he stood, a still sentinel, at his father’s side.

  Be like stone.

  Silas addressed Bram with the proper courtesy. Even in his cheap blue sport coat and plain tie over jeans, he had a strength and calm control about him that had always ruffled Cale with its superiority. As if the Terriots were something crude and distasteful that had to be endured. A blend of Terriot and Guedry, the MacCreedys had always straddled that line of loyalty, taking an intellectual high road on matters of clan and service. Cale had respected their integrity, been awed by their education, and envied the closeness of their family unity. None of those things had survived his father’s temper except in this man and his sister. And Kendra.

  “Thank you for receiving me,” Silas began, “and for your willingness to open a dialogue. I’d like for us to conclude this business quickly, to our mutual satisfaction.”

  Cale’s reluctant admiration for the man resurfaced. How it must gall him to speak civilly to the one responsible for the blatant slaughter of his loved ones. Yet Silas displayed nothing but detached and calculated purpose.

  “Your safety is assured in our House as long as its rules and rights are adhered to.”

  Nothing flickered in Silas’s eyes as he replied, “I know the rules. I’m here on behalf of Max Savoie to address the unannounced breach of our New Orleans territory by your armed men. And to demand an accounting for the mistreatment of my sister while in your care.”

  Cale had forgotten how fast Silas was.

  There was an infinitesimal blur of warning before impact shattered through his face. Staggered by the force and surprise, Cale stumbled, nearly falling as his hand went to his left cheek. The feel of warm blood was enough to fire volcanic rage. He snapped upright, hands fisted, violence vibrating through him at the unprovoked attack. All traces of civility were stripped from Silas’s expression as they faced one another, tempers flaring like a burst of acetylene.

  “No!” That cry tore from Kendra as she leaped between them, shielding Silas with her delicate form.

  “Cale!”

  He froze at Bram’s roar, every muscle trembling, teeth gritted and bared, eyes molten sparks of silver and red as they burned into the chill glare that promised an answer to his need for retaliation. But what held him in place wasn’t his father’s command. It was the look of dread on Kendra’s face as she clung to her cousin, her wide eyes glassy with fear—of him.

  Breath seething, Cale assumed a rigid stance, but it was too late to atone for his lack of control.

  “Leave us,” Bram ordered. Cale’s hesitation forced an added “Now!”

  Cale felt Bull’s movement behind him, and rather than suffer the physical escort, he broke the formal rank of his brothers to stride from the hall with head high and posture proud. As Turow and Kip started to follow, he put up a staying hand and went alone out into the brace of morning.

  Circling tightly, shaking with fury, Cale came about to find Bull standing in front of the doors, watching impassively.

  “You let him draw you out so he could be rid of you. A foolish mistake, young prince.”

  Cale went still. Sonofabitch! That was exactly what Silas had done. And he’d jumped for the bait, teeth gnashing.

  “You can’t afford to le
t emotion control your mind. You can’t serve her or your clan from out here, can you?”

  Cale drew a cleansing breath to push the fog of insult from his head. “He’s too smart for me,” he admitted heavily.

  “No.”

  Cale glanced up at the unexpected reply.

  “He’s more experienced than you. He knows how to read you. You can’t see him through your anger. You respond as you were taught. You’ll never be a great king until you can break from that pattern. You could learn from him if pride would let you.”

  Cale caught back his fierce retort, took a breath, and asked, “How?”

  Bull almost smiled. “Like that, boy who will be king.”

  Cale eyed him suspiciously. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because I would serve you as I did your father. He was a great man before he lost his way and forgot that his purpose was to protect his people, not to profit from them.”

  “You think I’ll be any different once I hold the power of the crown?”

  “I know you will be.” Bull gestured inside. “They know you will be.” That smile appeared. “She knows it, too. That’s why they stand with you.”

  Cale stared through the doors that kept him from where he needed to be. “I can’t let his insult go unanswered.”

  “Then answer it for the right reasons and move past it. There’s nothing behind you that can serve the future you desire. A true king would understand that. He understands that. Will you struggle to prove yourself the better man or surrender to become the better king? What are you made of, boy?”

  The instant Silas’s arms closed about her, Kendra was once again that little girl dependent upon another’s strength as her world fell apart around her. Emotions all over the place, she clung now as she had then, and trusted him to support her.

  “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of it.”

  It was so easy to get swept up by that confident claim, surrounded by the cushion of love and care. Relief shivered through her, willingness to relax and blindly trust everything to him. To let him turn back the clock to that time of innocence. She let him guide her, directing her steps, losing herself in the cadence of the voice that had calmed her after her nightmares, that had talked to her of dreams and glory. Here to rescue her at last from the strain, the fatigue, the fear that had stalked her every move and thought.

  She couldn’t look at Bram Terriot, at the awful image that flashed through her mind whenever she saw him. His brutal features twisted in rage. Her mother’s stark with shock and pain. Enough. No more. She couldn’t bear the tortuous weight of it, the hurt that clutched about her heart. So she pressed her face into Silas’s shoulder, shutting her eyes to the remembered horror until the sudden violence of his movements shook her back to confused awareness, to the sight of Cale Terriot, his expression sculpted by hate and rage. To the moment he’d pressed the glowing Terriot brand on the inside of Silas’s wrist, marking him forever as no longer his own man.

  No more!

  She closed her eyes and willed it all away, welcoming the numbness that served her all those years after she was discovered on the floor of her parents’ closet.

  No more.

  The first thing that swam back into focus was a photograph behind shattered glass hung at a careless angle. She recognized the proud tip of the boy’s chin, the piercing intensity of his gaze, the slight vulnerability to a half smile that was nearly as bright as the diamonds in his ears.

  Cale.

  Kendra didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until Silas intoned quietly, “Don’t worry. You won’t have to see him again.”

  She shook her head, trying to make sense of her situation. She was seated in a darkened room. Silas knelt at her feet, her freezing hands pressed between his. Her head ached, her senses reeled, sick and dizzy from the overpowering scent of the Terriot king. She couldn’t seem to breathe.

  “What happened? How did I get here?”

  Silas’s manner, his tone, was so solicitous and tender. “You kind of zoned out there for a minute. It’s all right. Everything’s taken care of. We’ll be out of here tomorrow, and you never have to look back. Not ever.”

  Out of here? Leaving . . . She struggled against the seeping exhaustion, refusing to let it steal any more precious hours from her life. “I can’t leave. I can’t leave Cale.”

  Silas’s expression tightened, but his voice remained gentle as he brushed her hair behind her ear so the Terriot diamond was exposed. “Yes, you can. There’s nothing he can do to stop you. You don’t wear his mark, and the rest you’ll forget in time. We can pretend it never happened. It’s all arranged.”

  “What’s arranged? Silas, what have you done?”

  “I’m getting you away from him. You don’t need to be afraid. He can’t harm you now.”

  She shook her head. “He’s never hurt me. Never.”

  Silas’s temper flashed hot in his eyes. “He has you wearing that obscenity so the whole world knows you’re his—”

  When he broke off abruptly, Kendra froze. “His what?” She pulled her hands free. “His what, Silas?”

  “His one of many,” he concluded softly. “He’s using you, the way he’s always used you, taking advantage of your—”

  “Stupidity? Ignorance? Are those the words you’re looking for?”

  “Goodness,” he amended. “He’s not some little lost boy, Kendra. He never has been. He’s a Terriot. He’s a son of Bram the Beast. He’s manipulating your feelings to get what he wants. Why do you think he hasn’t claimed you?”

  Why hadn’t he? Tears trembled on her lashes.

  “Kendra, he needs you to sway clan opinion. And when he has it, he’ll put you behind him and never look back. That’s what they do. That’s what his father’s done with his mother, and mine and yours. You need to understand.”

  “You’re wrong,” she argued. “You’ve never wanted to believe there’s any good in him.”

  “Because there isn’t, Kendra. That’s why I’m here.”

  When the two of them exited the main lodge, Cale was waiting alone in the cold. Unaware of what had transpired after his banishment, he looked from Silas’s stony features to the studious way Kendra was avoiding him. When he reached for her, there was no mistaking her subtle sidestep to evade his hand.

  Then Silas had his wrist, twisting sharply as he warned, “Back off, Terriot. Don’t make me break my word to your father along with your arm. Get out of the way.”

  Jerking free, Cale ignored the command, concentrating on those pale averted features. “Kendra, what’s wrong?”

  She looked up at him, distress pooling in her eyes. “Please tell me you didn’t do it,” came her broken plea.

  “Do what? Katy? What is it that you think I did?”

  Silas caught the front of his shirt, bunching it tightly before shoving him away. “You sonofabitch,” he snarled. “I vowed not to avenge the murder of my family, but I will not let your attempt to kill my sister go unanswered.”

  “My what? What the hell are you talking about? True, she’s an annoying, sharp-tongued bitch, but—” The rest of his denial was silenced by another, harder blow.

  “It was done at your request, you bastard, so she wouldn’t get in your way.”

  Cale looked from him to stare into those wide dark eyes, seeing Kendra’s desire to believe in him. But also the wounding doubt. It staggered him. “You think I would arrange the murder of your best friend and then pledge to love you? Is that what you think of me?” He gave a harsh, despairing laugh, then looked to Silas. Cale’s voice was February ice: thick, black, and cold. “Let’s do this.”

  He led the way. There was no proud strut to his walk, just quick, deadly purpose. Kip ran after him, his coat in hand.

  “Where’s my father? The others?” Cale asked.

  “Upstairs with Jamie and Wes. I don’t know about the rest.”

  “Did he ask for me?”
<
br />   An awkward pause, then a telling “No.”

  The significance wasn’t lost on Cale. At the moment, it didn’t matter as much as the business at hand. “Take care of the princess. She goes with no one but me—or him.” He nodded toward Silas, adding, “If that’s what she wants.”

  Think of nothing. Be like stone.

  He couldn’t find that granite blankness. All he could see was red. A sea of it, on his hands, on his clothes, leaking from the heavy bags he’d struggled to carry while his ears rang with the awful sound of screams.

  With Wes and James, Terriot princes bathed in their first trial by fire, all three of them pale and shaken to their souls by the deeds of that day, he’d stood along with his father and the fierce cadre of his men. In the cozy living room of the MacCreedy home, he’d watched Mr. and Mrs. MacCreedy’s faces as the abominations he and his brothers carried were dumped out onto their rug. Saw the horror and agony wake in their expressions as those atrocities bounced and rolled and were finally recognizable as the heads of their loved ones.

  Silas’s father was no warrior. He’d been a scholarly, patient man, a teacher who spent countless summer hours tutoring Cale and his less enthused brothers. But he’d stood with unmatched bravery in defiance of Bram, even as Bull started chopping him into pieces, starting with his fingers.

  Silas’s mother had always been full of flirtatious smiles and laughter, often making Cale blush and squirm within her impulsive hugs. She was a photographer who saw everything through excited, curious eyes, everything except the slow death of her husband. Still she’d stood unbroken and silent as Bram demanded, “Where have you hidden her? Where is my child?” until the cries of the two young girls above and the sight of her son’s pale and conflicted features forced her to sacrifice her own life to save them.

  Cale had known from the very beginning that what they were doing was wrong. Not only wrong but indecent, with no justification other than Bram Terriot’s affronted fury that the child he’d conceived through intimidation with Therese MacCreedy in an effort to strengthen their clan had been secreted away out of his reach. Cale had tried to hold to his father’s claim that they were warriors for their clan, that this was retribution against traitorous acts. But there was nothing heroic in methodical butchery. There was no honor in spilling the blood of families while they wept on their knees. There was no victory in listening to the screams of frightened girls. Cale had known at that moment what his once respected family had become, what he’d become. Vicious amoral animals, above no barbarity in the taking of what they wanted.