Vanne grinned at her. “Some of us are extremely enterprising. We like to think on the whole that the Daylights are a tight group. We work well with each other regardless of race. And yes... we are aware that one of our magiks is employed by the MacLachlans. Seems only fair, considering the MacLachlans have been providing the Coven with excellent Rogue Hunters for many generations. One of the finest currently in fact, Phoebe MacLachlan.”
“A female hunter?” It was her turn to grin excitedly.
He chuckled. “There are a few. We’re not as backward as you may think, Caia.”
“Having lived among humans for so long without any supernatural influence other than one measly lykan.” Marita smirked and Caia bristled at the certain condescension she sensed in her tone. “It’s only natural that you may think the human females have more liberal rights than some female supernaturals do-”
“Lykans in particular,” Vanne teased, grinning dangerously at Lucien. She felt him tense beside her.
“Hmm, well no matter the race, we are aware your opinions may be unduly influenced by your upbringing, but I assure you, Caia, the Daylight Coven has much to offer you. Why... I’m a woman. One could surely say I’m one of the most powerful supernaturals today. A very bright future awaits you here.”
OK, so how did her detailing the MacLachlan’s plans suddenly detour into a sales pitch? She wanted to laugh. They had jumped on her surprise and delight at there being a female Rogue Hunter because they thought she was being oppressed by Lucien? And suddenly their sales pitch had turned into some feminist bull? She managed to keep the smirk off her face as she leaned closer to Lucien to reassure him.
“Yes, well, as I was saying,” she managed diplomatically, “Pierre will ambush the pack in Remnant Forest with ten magiks, guard the place with four, and he’ll have five spies watching the MacLachlans; together they live on five streets in town. So we’re looking at nineteen magiks.”
Marita frowned. “That’s a lot of arsenal.”
“I’d say overkill.” Caia nodded.
“It also means that Pierre has the beginnings of quite a rebellion,” Lucien added, his voice husky from concealed anger.
Marita nodded in agreement, and then snapped her fingers so abruptly Caia flinched. A magik appeared almost instantly beside the Head, a tall hulking figure of a man whose face held no expression, whatsoever.
“Noble, I assume Miss Ribeiro and Mr Líder’s rooms are in order.”
“Yes, madam.”
She turned back to them. “Noble will show you to your rooms. Get some sleep. Tomorrow, after Mordecai and Marion have shown Caia around some of the Centre’s facilities, I want the two of you to reconvene here at 5oclock to discuss our plan of action. Lucien, I thought you might be interested in our Second Unit.”
His brows creased in confusion, as did Caia’s. What an earth was their Second Unit?
“Lykans.” Vanne grinned.
“Yes, quite. Our Second Unit are our infantry of lykans. I’ll have a representative sent around to your room tomorrow morning.”
Lucien nodded politely.
“One more thing before you retire for the evening, Caia.”
It was said pleasantly, yet an unexpected chill shot through her.
“Yes?”
Marita’s frozen smile melted into a grimace. “You should be aware that despite my sister’s championing of you, and her utmost belief in your sincerity and trustworthiness, not all of Daylight is inclined to believe her.”
“What does that mean?” Lucien growled.
She cast him a withering look. “It means, Mr Líder, that some of my people are uneasy around someone of Midnight blood.”
“Daylight blood as well,” he reminded her through clenched teeth.
Caia felt those nervous butterflies returning as Marita shrugged. “Well, perhaps if she had come to the Centre as a permanent resident, everyone would have been able to look past the fact that her mother was a treacherous Midnight whore who killed many Daylights, including your father and her own.”
“Marita...” Marion stood from her chair, her expression pained.
Her sister merely raised her hand, the polite mask falling back into place upon her marble face. “I don’t mean to be cruel.” Her eyes turned to Caia, whose own were bleak with uncertainty. She felt Lucien’s tension beside her, and was reminded once again of all the differences that stood between them, of how much he had been there for her despite that.
“If I can get past it so can they,” Lucien’s voice rumbled around the room. He moved closer to her, his arm brushing against hers. The butterflies began to abate, and she turned to look at him gratefully.
“One can only hope they will,” Marita drew her gaze back to her. “However, I would encourage you, Caia, to think about staying longer than this business with the MacLachlans. It would go a long way in securing you the right allies.”
“Well.” She plastered an equally painfully polite smile on as her hostess. “I thank you for the advice, Marita, but I hope my very temporary visit at the Centre will be enough to show the people here whose side I’m on. I’d have hoped killing my own uncle would have incurred some kind of faith, but ultimately rescuing a pack of strangers will just have to do the trick.”
Lucien didn’t even disguise his amusement and in fact neither did Vanne. Marion was the only one who tried to hold on to a straight face as Marita narrowed her eyes at first her husband, and then Caia.
“You might do well here after all.”
Caia raised an eyebrow in surprise at the grudging respect she found in the magik’s eyes.
“We’ll see, though.”
“These people that might take issue to me being here, does that include the Council?” Caia asked quietly, watching warily for a reaction.
Marita smiled smugly. “The Council does not reside here on a permanent basis, they only convene on their schedule, or for emergencies.”
It wasn’t exactly an answer. Marion had taught her a lot over the last few months, including some pretty in-depth history lessons. Like the Midnights, the Daylights had an appointed council, which included members of the more influential families within the Coven. Their existence was a precaution; an acting body of control that disavowed the idea of an autocracy, even though Marita had complete autonomy as long as her methods were morally correct, as well as providing the Coven with adequate protection and defence. Caia had learned from Marion that three hundred years ago, Marion and Marita’s great-grandmother had taken a stand against the Head; a tyrannical warlock, whom she discovered was plotting to overthrow the Council and take complete power for himself. She went to the Council with this information, a difficult task to have done, considering she had had to hide her intentions from him in her trace, and asked to be put forward as a candidate for Head of the Coven. Usually, this would have led to a political campaign where the Daylights would be allowed to vote for whomever they wanted to lead. The loser was killed so that they could ask Gaia to imbue the winner with trace power. In Marion’s great-grandmother’s case, the Council had been so horrified by her discoveries they’d had the Head killed immediately, and placed her in power. Their family had been ruling ever since.
So far, the Council was very happy with Marita.
“But do they take issue with Caia?” Lucien persisted.
Reluctantly, Marita shook her head. “They are merely impressed by your service to the Coven, and interested to see what you are capable of in the future.”
Satisfaction washed through Caia, and she shared a relieved smile with Lucien.
Marita ‘harrumphed’ again, and with that, they were ushered out of the room behind an impassive Noble.
They followed Noble back to the elevator, which then led them down to floor five, where they were deposited on another elevator that took them back up to floor twenty-three.
It was like something out of a sci-fi movie. Everything was white. White tiled floors, white walls, white doors, and florescent lighting that made all the white bl
inding.
“Have we been abducted by the third kind?” Lucien cracked. Caia chuckled and then choked on her laughter at Noble’s severe glare.
“These are the candidate floors. We prefer to keep everything clean, simple, and equal amongst the candidates.”
Caia frowned in confusion. “I’m sorry, what are the candidates?”
Noble sighed heavily as if he were speaking to a dumbass and growing rapidly impatient with it. “The candidates are those Daylights in training.”
Lucien twisted his mouth sarcastically. “Recruits.”
“No.” Noble looked as if he had eaten something rotten. “We prefer the term candidate. Recruit just sounds so aggressive.”
Caia smirked at Lucien. “Let me guess, that was Marita’s idea?”
“Yes. Hmmph.”
They grinned at each other behind the pompous factotum’s back as he led them past door after door. Finally, he stopped at one with the number 48 on it and handed a swipe card to Lucien.
“Your room, sir. Marita has taken the liberty of securing a spell within the key cards of non-magiks, so that their fellow magik students can’t invade their privacy with a spell of their own.”
Lucien took the tiny piece of card in his hand, puzzling over it. “Gee, thanks.”
“Am I next door?” Caia wondered, curious as to what the rooms looked like on the other side.
“No. We will be taking that elevator.” He pointed to a white elevator a few metres down the hallway.
“Another elevator?”
“Why?” Lucien was frowning again, his body automatically tensing, and he straightened to his optimum height.
“I’ve been instructed to put the young lady in one of the guest suites.”
“But Lucien’s a guest.”
“Caia, don’t-”
“No! You’re not a candidate...” She turned to glare at Noble. “Which, by the way sounds like he’s entering into an asylum for the disturbed.”
Noble sneered. “I’ll be sure to pass along your compliments to Madam.”
No. Caia’s heart thumped angrily. They were not going to treat Lucien like some C-list recruit, whilst they pandered to her, just because they wanted something from her. And she needed Lucien close by. This was all so weird, so fast; she needed his strength beside her.
“Yeah, well, while you’re at it, ask Madam to arrange a guest suite for Lucien in close location to mine.”
He frowned. “Together you mean?”
Caia flushed. “No, not together. Next to one another.”
Lucien was beginning to look seriously, uncomfortably, pissed off. “Caia you don’t-”
“It’s not for you, it’s for me, so swallow it or choke on it.”
His eyes twinkled back at her as he gave a stoic nod in obeisance.
“One moment.” Noble turned from them, pressing something behind his ear lobe. “Get me Marita,” he grumbled at someone, and it was then she realised he had a small flesh-coloured ear piece inside his ear. He was wearing a security headset of some ultra mod-tech kind.
Expensive.
Her eyes flashed to Lucien and he seemed to understand, his own eyebrows rose in speculation. It was certainly some operation they had running here.
“Madam, our honoured guest requests a redress of the accommodation situation for her Alpha.”
He was nodding to whatever reply he was receiving. “Hmm, yes, well she would like him situated in a guest suite near her own.”
Silence.
“Yes madam. Of course.”
Noble pressed behind his lobe again and turned to them with a false smile. “The key card sir?”
Lucien handed it back, and Caia smiled smugly. “To our rooms, Jeeves.”
***
Her guest room was unbelievable. It was decked out in the plush Louis XIV decor that Marita seemed to favour. Huge canopied bed in the centre of the room; large roaring fire at the opposite end; a massive marble-tiled en-suite, and insane walk-in closet. And to top it off, the east facing side of the room was part of the curved glass window that looked out over the river and Paris.
Its beauty was enough to make this trip worthwhile.
And right next door was Lucien. The object of her almost constant thoughts. She had been excited when Marion had explained about the classes she could inspect whilst here. But Marita’s warning that not everyone would welcome her had really brought home for her how much Lucien had done for her.
And of the one thing she hadn’t done for him.
“Hey.” He looked surprised to see her on the other side of his door. “You OK?”
“I need to talk to you.”
Lucien nodded, and stepped aside to let her into a room that was much more masculine in design. It looked like Vanne had gotten his way here with the style.
“Well, if it’s about the room... thanks,” he said, shutting the door behind her and following her in, watching as she took a seat at the fireplace. “I have no doubt that this is far more comfortable than a candidate’s room.”
Caia laughed at the mocking look he gave her. “Do you think it was a test to see if I understood my position here?”
“What... you’re pulling power?” He smirked, sitting down across from her, relaxing his big body into the leather sofa. “I have no doubt Madam has been testing your intelligence and metal since you got here.”
Caia sighed, looking down nervously at her hands. Coming to the Centre was a mistake. Marion may have some kind of mother-figure faith in her, but Marita was going to expose her for the fraud she was afraid she was. Feeling traces of good Midnights? Was she crazy?
“Hey, you’re gonna blow her away,” he reassured her gently, his voice sending a soothing hand down her back. “You’re more than a match for her.”
She smiled softly at him, hoping her feelings weren’t so obviously clear in her eyes. “Thank you. But believe it or not I didn’t interrupt your rest for a confidence boost. I’m not quite that selfish... yet.” She chuckled nervously, sucking in some dust and then spluttering, and coughing...
Oh Goddess, she was the queen of un-cool.
“Caia.” Lucien sounded like he was choking on laughter, as he got up and sat down beside her, patting her on the back more roughly than was necessary.
“I’m OK.” She held a hand up to ward him off, eyes watering more from his help than the coughing.
“Can I get you water?”
“No,” she croaked. Then she looked up at him, and realised how close he was, the heat from his body stroking her skin; his silver eyes curious and concerned, inches away from her. “I came to apologise.”
A wrinkle appeared between his eyes. “Apologise?”
She took in a shuddering breath, her gaze falling to her hands again. “I never apologised for what... for what my mother did to you... to your father... to your family…”
“Cy-”
“No, let me say this. She did all those horrible things, and when I found out the truth the first thing you said was that you were sorry. You didn’t have to do that. She deserved what she got. But I never apologised properly. More than that, I never thanked you for supporting me without question. I am part Midnight and you refused to judge me for that. Thank you.”
“Caia!” Lucien grabbed her chin, jerking her eyes up to meet his own. He looked angry and sad... and frustrated. “You have nothing to apologise for. You. Are. Not. Your mother.”
A tear she didn’t even know had appeared slid down her cheek, and he caught it with his thumb, rubbing the salty liquid into her skin.
“Do you really believe that?”
His eyes widened in disbelief. “Of course. Caia...”
“I’m scared, Lucien,” she whispered.
He pulled her gruffly into his arms and she sighed, inhaling him, clinging to him like a life boat.
“You’re not her. They will see that. You have to know that.”
Thoughts of those Midnight traces she had been feeling trickled down towards her t
ongue. She needed to tell someone. Maybe Lucien would understand. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe...“There’s something I-”
Tap tap tap
Lucien groaned, “Sorry, that’ll be room service.”
Caia pulled back, grinning tremulously. “You ordered food already?”
He grinned wolfishly back. “Of Course. We haven’t eaten in-”
“Three hours.”
He laughed and got up to open the door. “Bring it on in, thank you.” He stood aside as a guy in a waiter’s uniform pushed a trolley of food into the room. The guy nodded briskly and left quickly.
“You’re unbelievable.” Caia chuckled, watching him lift dish after dish up to inhale the aromas. Her own stomach started to ache in protest.
“Hey.” He grinned again, almost licking his lips. “Thought I’d cash in on your powerful pull with these people and get me a proper meal before prep work tomorrow. I will need all the sustenance I can get if we’re gonna kick some evil Midnight ass.”
Caia’s face fell. Well, there went that window.
“You wanna join?”
“Uh no.” She shook her head and made for the door. “I’m tired.”
“OK. Hey.” He frowned. “Didn’t you have something to tell me?”
She locked on to his concerned gaze and wished she did. But her previous instinct had been right. Hating Midnights was too ingrained in a Daylight to make what she had to say understandable.
And Marita was right. She needed all the allies she could get.
“No, not really. Night.”
“Night.”
***
“You’re late,” he reproached darkly, watching beneath his lidded eyes as the large man walked sedately into the room.
“I had a few issues to deal with before coming here,” the distinguished magik said in his heavy accent, before brushing off a chair and easing into it. He straightened the lapels on his long wool coat before crossing his leg over the other in a gesture that was at once elegant and masculine.
“I have people to get back to. I don’t have the luxury of your abilities, remember.”
“Well, be quick with your news, by all means.”
River Cast: Part Two in the Tale of Lunarmorte Page 5
