by Virna DePaul
“I teleported to Nevada. I’m at the Bellagio. How long will it take for you to get to me?”
“I’ll send someone—”
“No way,” Zeph snapped. “I don’t know who to trust, but you’re the devil I know. It’s either you or no one. In fact, that’s starting to sound more and more appealing to me, now that I think of it.”
“Fine. I’ll come for you myself. I’ll be there in an hour.” Gritting his teeth, Isaac terminated their connection and pocketed his cell phone.
This was not good. Now one of the Quorum’s key agents was on the run because Isaac had sent him to kill the vampire prince’s human mate. Something the Quorum as a whole would be surprised to hear. And if he tried to explain that he’d been acting under orders . . .
Isaac shuddered as he imagined what the scarred one would do to him, but only after he let the female have her fun first.
Damn Athena and the one called Ares. If they hadn’t set the damn assassination attempt in motion, Isaac would be enjoying a meal with a Playboy bunny and anticipating what—or rather who—was to come later that night. Instead, he had to pick up Zeph Prime and either convince the vamp to keep quiet or find a way to eliminate him. Of course, since Isaac had no hopes of overpowering the vamp himself, eliminating him would mean involving yet more individuals in this mess, which would leave another trail when there was already one far too long for Isaac’s comfort.
He considered his options, then dialed a number he’d never thought he’d use while in public.
“What is it?” a voice answered.
“I’ve run into trouble,” Isaac said.
“And this concerns me how?”
“Because my trouble is your trouble. Our objective hit a wall. One that turned out to be sharper than we thought.”
One thing about Athena: She was a bitch, but she caught on fast. “Locke’s been turned?”
“According to my source, yes.”
“And you trust him?”
Isaac thought about it. Did he? Yes. Zeph Prime had sounded genuinely pissed on the phone. And he’d proven himself very valuable in the past. But what really convinced Isaac was the common knowledge that it was biologically impossible for vampires to lie. “I trust him,” he said.
“Then bring him to me. I want to assess this vampire for myself.”
“What about Felicia Locke? And Ares?”
“Leave Ares to me. Once he learns his daughter has been turned, he’ll probably urge the Quorum to go after the vamps with guns blazing. After all, he’d considered her death more merciful than a life with vamps, even as a human. Imagine how he’ll feel once he discovers she is one. The Quorum, however, will see the folly in such a move and refuse. I’ll make sure of that.”
“But he’ll be furious with you . . .”
Isaac felt the chill across the line even before he heard it in her voice. “No,” she said softly. “He’ll be furious with you, Isaac. And he’ll demand you fix the situation. How you choose to do that is up to you. As far as I’m concerned, you should never have acted without the Quorum’s full authority by giving in to Ares’ demands.”
Dumbfounded, Isaac sputtered, “But you—”
“I what?” Athena asked silkily, her voice edged with challenge.
Isaac swallowed hard. He wanted to choke the life out of the human female, but even though the other Quorum members didn’t know her identity, Isaac did. If she chose, she could wield more power than he, Ares, and all the other Quorum members combined. “I apologize. I . . . I lost my head for a moment.”
“Do it again, and you’ll lose more than your head, Isaac. Now bring the vampire to me. Once I talk to him, I’ll meet with the Quorum and let them know we’ve lost another human to the Otherborn.”
She hung up, leaving Isaac to shut the cell phone and make his excuses to his date. As he did so, however, he was also weighing his options. He’d allowed Athena and Ares to sway him from the Quorum’s course out of greed. That was perfectly understandable. He wasn’t a fool, however. He didn’t appreciate Athena’s threats, and while he didn’t have any hope of bringing her down, Ares was a different matter altogether. If he became a threat to Isaac—if he chose to wield his power against him—Isaac would tell Zeph Prime the identity of the individual who wanted Felicia dead: her father. The human she thought had died along with her mother, but really was the person responsible for her mother’s death.
Knox stared at his brother as Zeph ended the call with the one called Isaac. Around them, the sounds of the Bellagio acted as background noise, irritating Knox’s already jagged nerves.
“So apparently you’ve discovered a way to lie and haven’t bothered to tell me that, either. Is that Mahone’s doing, as well?”
Zeph simply looked at him, making Knox laugh bitterly.
“At least tell me this. Is the antidote real? Is the testing we’re doing warranted, or are we wasting time on a false hope that may or may not lead to my wife’s death? To the death of the humans who’ve chosen to take the antidote in order to give our clan a chance to survive?”
Sighing, Zeph rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s real,” he said quietly. “But we don’t know what the lasting side effects are. So the testing is warranted but . . .”
“But inconclusive,” Knox finished. “And even though Felicia must now pretend to be a vampire to increase her chances of survival, she’s even more adamant about not being turned.”
“I agree with her. She knows how valuable you are to the clan—”
“If she dies, I’ll have no value. I’ll die, too. In spirit, if not in body. Can’t you understand that?”
Zeph opened his mouth, but before he could answer, Knox sliced his hand in the air, silencing him. “Of course you can’t. You’ve never loved a woman, Zeph, have you? You can’t understand what kind of pain would come from being separated from her.”
“No,” he agreed. “But I love my family. And I think I understand a little about the pain of separation.” He glanced at his watch, then back at Knox. “It’s time for you to leave. Tell Mother I’m sorry I didn’t say good-bye, but this is for the best. This way, I can work the Quorum from the inside—”
“Yes, you’re good at that. Deceiving people from the inside, I mean.”
Knox cursed himself when he saw the flash of pain that traveled across his brother’s face. But damn it, Zeph wasn’t a little boy anymore. He’d been working with Mahone for a long time now, taking care of himself and doing what he could for the clan. Knox understood why, but logic didn’t temper the hurt or sense of betrayal he felt that his own brother had lied to him over and over again.
With a curse, Knox turned and walked a few feet away. He stopped when Zeph spoke.
“You’ve been checking the surveillance tapes from the night of your reception.”
Slowly, Knox turned back to his brother. “And?”
“And have your men reported any film showing that the mage on your team was suffering from pain on that night?”
Frowning, Knox took a step closer. It was plain from Zeph’s tone that he knew something, but what? And why bring Lucy up now? “Lucy suffers from an ailment that rears its head occasionally. If you saw her experiencing discomfort, you should’ve said something to me that night. Certainly well before today.”
“Why? So you could deny what she is? A feline?”
Despite the automatic questions that came to his mind, Knox asked, “Why would I deny anything?” It wasn’t a lie, but it was evasion, plain and simple. He knew it even as he said it, but he couldn’t confirm Zeph’s suspicion, either.
“Ah, that’s right, Knox. Don’t answer directly. I understand.” When Knox remained quiet, Zeph nodded. “You’re doing what you believe is right. I was doing the same when I kept my role with Mahone from you. And it’s why I’m going to tell you what I am now, even though it’s pure speculation on my part.”
“So tell me,” Knox snapped, not allowing himself to show any softening toward his brother. He unde
rstood what Zeph was saying, but logic didn’t sway him at the moment—only the belief that his brother’s secrecy had somehow endangered Felicia controlled him. That wasn’t something he could easily forgive or forget.
“You said yourself Lucy has to live with the affliction of being in heat. So does every female feline in this world. Imagine how difficult that would be. What one might barter in order to get rid of it.”
“Are you implying Lucy has done something dishonorable in order to obtain relief from the heat? When sexual activity would bring her not only relief, but pleasure?”
“Even pleasure, when you’re given no choice in accepting it, can lose its appeal, Knox. And no, I’m not accusing Lucy of anything. But she wasn’t the only feline at the Dome the night you married, Brother.”
Knox’s eyes widened as mental links connected. The attack on Wraith. A feline who’d been in his home with a past attachment to Caleb O’Flare and a possible motive to want the wraith out of the way. “Princess Natia ordered an attack on Wraith? When the team is trying to find the bastards raping her people? Her own sister? That makes no sense, Zeph.”
“I know of no attack on the wraith. But pain and jealousy can drive people to do horrible things. To betray their clan or betray others in order to help it. Perhaps you need to look into exactly what Natia would be willing to do.” Zeph shrugged. “But like I said, it’s just something I’ve been thinking about. I could be completely wrong.”
“You could be,” Knox murmured, but already he was planning to go to his security team. To focus on the security footage from Princess Natia’s guest quarters himself.
He cast a final glance at his brother and nodded. “Thank you for sharing this information.” He didn’t forgive his brother. He didn’t embrace him. But as he prepared to teleport, he gave his brother what he could. “Lucy’s secrets are not my own, Zeph. It’s not my place to expose them. I have always opened myself to you and thought you gave the same. I hope Essenia watches over you, Zeph. Return soon, but only when you can look me in the eye and tell me the full truth again.”
TWENTY-NINE
Wilma was clearly intoxicated, and Wraith figured it wouldn’t be too long before she let something slip about the feline rapes. If she knew anything, of course, but Wilma was too savvy and connected not to know a bit more than she was letting on.
Right now, however, what Wilma wanted was for Wraith to come to the bathroom with her. That was perfect. A little girl talk in the potty could only make Wilma feel more secure. Subtly, Wraith glanced toward Caleb, wanting to let him know where she was going. What she saw, however, made her mouth almost drop open.
Although Dex lounged at the high top table, chatting it up with a slender vamp and pretending to be drunk, Caleb was just walking back to the table with his arm around a small female. When they turned, she gasped. It was the same small female he’d been dancing with at Knox’s wedding. His ex-girlfriend, the feline princess Natia.
Natia shook her head and stopped walking to press a hand to Caleb’s chest. She said something and caressed his cheek with the back of her fingers. Instead of freezing her out with a scowl as Wraith expected, Caleb laughed and leaned down toward the feline. When she pulled his head down for a kiss, he didn’t resist. In fact, he gave as good as he got.
Feeling like she’d been hit by a sledgehammer, Wraith turned and followed Wilma to the bathroom. When she got there, she had the immediate urge to go back out and rip that feline to shreds. It was only through pure force of will that she avoided doing so. So when Wilma said she’d forgotten her purse and would be right back, Wraith said she’d wait for her. She didn’t trust herself to go back out there and not make a scene. Dex and Caleb were there to protect Lucy, and she wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize that task.
When another feline walked in and smiled at her, Wraith went into a stall and sat down just to have a little privacy. She took a moment to examine herself. The changes were coming faster now. While most people wouldn’t see it unless they were looking for it, Wraith felt the biggest changes inside her. In the way her heartbeat was getting stronger. Her lungs filling more and more with air. Her body responding to touch with very little pain now, if any at all. Part of her wondered if it was her age or Caleb’s touch that had quickened all the changes inside her.
Only, even if the answer was yes, that Caleb’s touch had made her change, what was she supposed to do with that information? She’d managed to avoid him under the guise of the mission. But she knew he’d only given her a temporary reprieve. Soon, whatever was happening between them was going to come out in the open and she had no idea what to expect. Because even as she wanted to cling to every experience that Caleb had given her in the past few days, she wanted to run from them just as much. Now she knew exactly what she was going to be missing when she died, and she was almost willing to end everything right now just to avoid that feeling.
She heard female laughter, and the bathroom door opened and closed. “Wraith?”
It was Wilma. Closing her eyes, Wraith took several breaths—relishing every single one of them—and focused her mind. Mission. Date rape drug. Lucy as bait.
She had purpose. For a short time longer, anyway.
Wraith exited the stall and walked out, blinking when the lights went out. She heard a faint scrape just before something grabbed her by the back of the head and slammed her face-first into the stall doors, knocking her semi-unconscious. A prick on her arm followed, and she immediately felt the infusion of liquid into her body. Every muscle in her body went slack.
Caleb raised his mouth from Natia’s, hoping like hell that Wraith had missed that little display.
Of course, what were the chances of that?
“You’ve got to get out of here, Natia. It’s too dangerous for you.”
“She’s my sister, Caleb, and some bastard raped her. If that wraith can help—”
“That wraith has been trained in military warfare and surveillance, Natia. And you . . .” Natia had been protected. Sheltered and pampered. She’d been kept far away from the horrors of the War, something Caleb had always been grateful for, but it made her presence extremely dangerous to them all. If she said the wrong thing and it was overheard, she would endanger not only their mission but their lives. That’s why he was cajoling rather than yelling at her the way he wanted to. The surest way to get Natia to do anything was to soften her up; the instant she felt like she was being controlled or condescended to, she’d dig her feet in all the more.
Now, who did that remind him of?
“I’m older now, Caleb. I can help. I want to help.”
“O’Flare.”
Turning to Dex, Caleb saw he was still maintaining his cover, only he didn’t look as laid-back as he had before. Of course not. With Natia’s foolish behavior, this mission was turning into a three-ring circus. Who knew maintaining cover in a sex club would be more difficult than dropping undetected into North Korea via spy plane?
“We’ve got trouble,” Dex said.
Immediately, Caleb’s eyes went to Lucy. She was talking to Wraith, a sappy smile on her face as they hugged. It wasn’t consistent with what they’d planned, but Caleb assumed they’d decided to kiss and make up. Wraith wrapped an arm around Lucy and began to lead her toward the front door. But as she did so, something strange happened. Lucy stumbled, then weaved. Almost as if she was drunk.
Without hesitating, Caleb thrust Natia into Dex’s lap. “Get her out of here.”
Vaguely, he heard Dex curse and say to someone, “Get her in a cab.”
Making a beeline for Lucy and Wraith, he stepped in front of them, blocking the door.
“You feeling okay? Anything I can help you with?” he said for the benefit of those around him.
Lucy smiled and wriggled her fingers at him. “Hey, Caleb. Wraith was just giving me a hand here.”
Wraith was staring at him from behind those damn sunglasses again, her face as impassive as ever.
“A hand with wh
at?” Caleb murmured.
Wraith shrugged. “She’s had a little too much to drink. Was feeling light-headed. I thought she could use some fresh air.”
Right. Pushing down the urgency that was urging him to separate the two females, Caleb nodded and swept his arm toward the door. “I think you’re right.”
Lucy smiled and waved again. The two of them walked through the door and as the air from outside filtered past them, Caleb smelled it.
Roses.
Shape-shifter.
As Wraith and Lucy walked out into the parking lot, Caleb was right behind them. With a light shove, he pushed Lucy out of the way, grabbed Wraith, and shoved her against the door, knocking off her sunglasses. Bracing his forearm against her throat, he applied enough pressure to cut off her airway. Wraith choked and tried to pry his arm away. “Can’t . . . breathe . . .” she gasped.
Lucy screamed and jumped on his back, asking him what the hell he was doing. “You’re hurting her, Caleb.” He saw her bracing herself, probably preparing to use a spell on him, so he gave her another light shove. It sent her tumbling back and into Dex’s waiting arms. He and Dex locked eyes, their mutual understanding evident.
Turning back to the wraith, Caleb said, “The thing is, Lucy doesn’t drink alcohol. She can’t because it’s toxic to mages; dilutes their power. Most people don’t know that, but Wraith sure as hell does. That tells me you drugged her. Isn’t that right?”
“You’re crazy. I’m her friend. Why would I—” The wraith wheezed as Caleb pressed even harder against her throat.
“Wraiths don’t have to breathe, so I can’t be choking the breath out of you. Not if you’re really Wraith, that is. Now where is she?”
Through waves of pain, Wraith felt her body fall and her head hit the floor, the movement causing the pain in her already sore head to intensify sharply. She moaned.
“Shut up, bitch. We’re gonna have some fun.”
