Fate's Edge: A SkinWalker Novel #6: A DarkWorld Series (DarkWorld: SkinWalker)

by T. G. Ayer

  Mel’s face fell. “He’s in trouble, and he needs our help.”

  The news hit me like Stavros’ fist to my gut. “Shit.”

  “Yeah. We have a few days to coordinate, but we need to make a combined effort to get him out. The whole realm is in danger.”

  “What do you plan on doing?”

  Mel sighed and explain the details of the plan. I was shocked at first—break out Queen Aisha, call in the Supreme HC for the Omega hideout, take Aisha with them to Mithras, break out Saleem, and reinstate the queen—but in the end, I had to agree that however radical her plan was, it did make perfect sense. And it sounded like it would work.

  As we finessed out the finer details of Mel’s plan, I studied her face wondering again if she was going to broach the subject of the Ni’amh. I had to know if she knew but I wasn’t sure how to ask her.

  Eventually, I reached for a notepad and wrote the word ‘Ni’amh’ on it then set it on the coffee table between us.

  Mel went still and looked up from the piece of paper, meeting my eyes with a wide stare. “You know?”

  I nodded. “How long have you known?”

  Mel shrugged one shoulder. “Only a few weeks. I wasn’t sure if I could talk to anyone else. I mean, I just wasn’t certain if everyone else knew.”

  I understood. “Yeah. I’m in the same boat. I suspect Cassie knows, but I’m not certain about Darcy or Nerina.”

  Mel nodded, her expression half-scowl half-suspicion. “I think Cassie knows. The way she looked at me...”

  I let out a soft laugh. “She’s a whirlwind. But yes, she can be very forthright. Says what she thinks. But you get her on your side, and she’d give her life for you.”

  “Then she’s an asset to the…group.”

  Seemed even Mel was having issues with saying the word ‘Ni’amh’ out loud. I was a little relieved that I wasn’t the only one. It felt like the prophecy was a cloud of secrecy hanging over our heads.

  “I believe she is. We all are.”

  “So how do we get Nerina to come out? I think she may not yet be ready.”

  “I got the same impression. She’s strong though, and determined. And she’s grown so much since I first met her.” It felt strange sitting there talking about friendship and personalities as if my whole world wasn’t crumbling down around me.

  I sighed, and Mel’s mouth turned up into a grin. “What are we going to do about you?”

  “Wish I knew. We have a plan, such as it is.”

  “Well, whatever happens, we need to get things squared away soon. I’m going to be needing you in a week’s time.

  Mel got to her feet, and I followed suit.

  “I have to get going. A few things I need to get sorted in preparation for leaving.” Mel looked over at me, as though she was about to say something. Instead, she shoved her hands into her jeans pockets.

  I nodded. “I’ll get out of this jam. Saleem needs us. Come what may, we’ll be there for him.”

  Mel nodded, her face a little calmer now.

  As she turned shadowy and disappeared from the room, I realized I’d just promised her something that I likely had no control of. We had Plan A and B and Z. Whatever. We still had no idea what the Walker Council had in store for me.

  In addition, we had a government agency on the hunt for shifters and probably abducting more of them every day. Add to that, a reporter who was acting on the back of a leaked report claiming shifters and magical people existed.

  To say that our very existence was teetering on the brink of total disaster was not an understatement.

  Chapter 34

  Although Chief Murdoch had tried to push back the request from Neil Trapper and Delia Wade to question me, I suggested that it would be best to get to them as soon as we were comfortable. I felt it best to get the meeting with them over as soon as possible.

  Mel had just left, and I’d barely had time to grab a mug of coffee before Trapper and Wade walked into the room without so much as a knock. Trapper led the way, flinging the door open and stalking inside, his form tall and imposing in a black suit with a crisp white shirt. He’d dressed the part of the new head of the Walker Council, having temporarily taken Marsden’s place. He paused in his tracks, staring around him in disbelief.

  Trapper’s cat’s pale luminescent eyes and dark pupils shimmered on his face before he straightened and tamped it down. His gaze settled on me as I leaned against the kitchen counter and sipped my coffee.

  “This is what you call an interrogation room?” he asked, turning to face Chief Murdoch who brought up the rear of the small party.

  The chief shrugged, appearing unaffected by Trapper’s attitude. Something that seemed to infuriate the walker more. “It’s all we had,” Murdoch said somewhat sadly.

  “And the cells downstairs? Are they not available?” Delia Wade said. Her white pants-suit jacket was left unbuttoned with a little too much cleavage revealed by her low-cut camisole. Her eyes flashed, and her shrill tone made me want to revert to childhood and stick my fingers in my ears.

  Instead, I sipped more.

  The chief smiled at her, his large mustache bobbing. “Not for people of a certain status, no. If the roles were reversed, it would be you in this room instead of downstairs. We do have certain rules here that protect supernatural species and more especially those of more superior standing.”

  Wade’s mouth closed on whatever sharp retort she’d been about to issue, and she seated herself on the closest chair, leaning back with her hands on either arm of the chair—a stance meant to be imposing, though only if people cared about their superiority. In this room, nobody did.

  Trapper snorted at the chief’s words and made for the seat beside Delia, but he didn’t say anything either.

  The chief cleared his throat. “Now, if you don’t mind waiting a few moments, Ms Odel’s legal counsel will be arriving soon. They’re already here, just signing in downstairs.”

  My legal counsel?

  “Her counsel?” Trapper’s growl rumbled from his throat. “I didn’t know she had legal representation.” His voice rang bitterly around the room. Had he expected that he and Delia would barge in and roll all over me, and that I wouldn’t find a way to protect myself?

  Well, you didn’t even think about representation, did you?

  I ignored my inner voice and gave the pair a lukewarm smile. “Neil, Delia, would either of you like something to drink? Tea or coffee? Something cold?” I drained my coffee mug and placed it in the sink.

  Trapper’s face darkened as he glanced around the room again and stopped to stare at the little kitchen behind me. One look would tell him it was well-stocked and well-equipped.

  “Nice place for a criminal.” He threw a dirty look at Murdoch. “I’ll be initiating an investigation into this…special treatment of privileged suspects.”

  “Initiate all you want. My jail, my rules. As far as I am concerned, all my suspects are just that. Suspects. Innocent until proven guilty. I think that was the law, last time I checked.”

  Movement in the doorway behind Murdoch brought my attention to the grand entrance of my counsel. I’d suspected there was only one person who it could be. Someone who had a law degree and could be entrusted with my defense.

  Iain had also received his law certification and could have easily represented me. But as a sitting alpha, related to the suspect, as well as himself being in a relationship with a human, he would have put himself under too great a scrutiny.

  So, when Grams walked into the interrogation room, I wasn’t surprised.

  “Ivy?” asked Trapper as Grams strode toward him, the man’s face flaming with anger. Her long legs were encased in near-invisible nylons, and her black heels were high enough to look attractive, but just shy of being overly sexy.

  “Ivy, I thought you were away on a case?” Delia Wade bit the question out one word at a time.

  Grams smiled serenely and pushed her platinum blonde hair over her shoulder where it settled i
n glossy waves. Grams usually had her hair woven into a topknot on the top of her head, or braided tight at the back of her neck. She only ever let her hair down—literally—when she was home.

  Today she wore a burgundy skirt suit—one which I recognized as belonging to me—and a cream silk blouse, and she carried a leather briefcase.

  Grams walked up to me and kissed my cheek, “Hello Kailin, dear.” She crushed me in a hug and spoke into my ear. “Behave yourself.”

  “Nice suit, Ivy,” I said with a smirk as I looked her up and down. Behind her, Delia was sending dagger-glares at Grams’ ass.

  Go, Grams.

  Ivy Odel was in her late sixties and still looked like she hadn’t yet hit her forties. Granted walkers had the advantage of aging much slower than humans, but Grams certainly gave the other older walkers a run for their money.

  Delia had just turned ninety and from what I could recall Marsden had turned one hundred and twenty-five last year. Trapper was on the younger side though, around the same age as Grams.

  Now, Grams grinned and smoothed a hand down the side of her skirt. “Good taste runs in the family?” she responded with an answer-question.

  Shaking my head, I waved at the table then headed back to the kitchen to boil water for tea. While there, I untied my hair and ran my fingers through it. I wouldn’t want a scolding from Ivy Odel about not ensuring my appearance was up to par. Thankfully, my black jeans and coral batwing blouse would win me some points.

  Before long, I had a pot of tea brewing on the conference table and had deposited cups and saucers, milk and sugar and the plate of donuts I’d left in the fridge—the remainder of the box the chief had brought earlier today.

  “How very domestic,” Trapper commented, his tone filled with anger, lynx eyes flashing.

  I smiled as I took a seat beside Grams. “Happy to say that Chief Murdoch has been more than kind and terribly just in his treatment of me.”

  Grams didn’t wait for Trapper’s response. She slammed a small stack of stapled papers onto the wooden surface of the conference table.

  “We haven’t had time to prepare for this interrogation, so I reserve the right to discuss in private with my client where your questions—or the answers you need—may threaten the viability of our case.”

  I caught Delia mumble, “My client indeed,” while Trapper sputtered, “Your case?”

  Grams nodded. “Yes. In response to your charges, we’ve laid our own. This is going to prove to be an interesting case. I’m quite looking forward to it.”

  Delia snorted, tossing her short curls over her shoulder in a weak attempt at a flounce. She’d once had waist-length hair, but for some reason, she’d taken a drastic turn in her fashion sense and had lopped off her locks in favor of a shoulder-length head of glossy curls. Maybe she thought the style would be elegant and she’d been right, only it did make her look older.

  Her almond shaped eyes added to the sense of feline sexiness and Delia was known never to fail to use those charms to her advantage on the male members of the Walker Council.

  Of course, the women saw right through her. Like myself and Grams. And Mom who had never been on Delia’s good side.

  Ignoring her, Grams said, “Shall we begin? You have your slotted hour starting now, so we’d best get to it. We have another appointment once we’re done here.”

  Trapper glanced over at the chief. “What is this?” he asked, outrage making his face go red.

  “Apologies, Mr Trapper. I wasn’t aware you’d requested more than the legally allowed time. And of course, we wouldn’t want to be seen as giving some people special treatment, would we?” It was a convoluted argument which to be fair didn’t make sense, but Murdoch must have been enjoying the pair’s discomfort too much and couldn’t resist needling them.

  The two council members’ faces were contorted with anger. Trapper straightened though, the time that was ticking away probably at the top of his mind. He tugged his jacket. “We’re just waiting for one more person.” He tried to hide his smug smile, but he failed as his lip turned up and morphed into a sneer.

  Grams raised an eyebrow, and the chief looked like he was about to object. A knock on the door brought everyone’s attention to the doorway, and we all watched as it opened to reveal a man who I’d never thought I’d see again.

  And certainly not walking into an interrogation room with me on the receiving end of his questions.

  Agent Jones of Division 7.

  Chapter 35

  He entered with a bland expression and took a seat beside Trapper who gave him a neutral smile. Jones’s olive skin and dark buzz cut were an odd contrast, but I didn’t need to look at him to remember what he’d looked like the last time I’d run into the man.

  Trapper extended a hand and waved it around the room. “This is Reagan Barnes. Barnes, this is the accused Kailin Odel, her legal counsel Ivy Odel and the Chief, who I’m assuming will be leaving the room to give us some measure of privacy.”

  From what I could gather it appeared Trapper and Jones-Barnes weren’t exactly best buddies. Still, I didn’t miss the slight to the chief in not being properly introduced by name, though from his expression it was water on a duck’s back.

  The tension between Trapper and Jones, or rather Barnes, made me wonder who was really in charge. After my near-abduction by the mercenaries and Josh’s information that the government was rounding up supernaturals for Ailuros knew what purpose, the appearance of Jones sent up so many red flags that I wanted to lunge for his throat and get him to tell us what he was really doing here.

  The chief gave me a nod and then exited the room in silence. Grams placed a hand on my thigh, out of sight of the rest of the table. I glanced over at her, and she gave me a serene smile which I read as Calm down, we need information before you eat the horrible man.

  I gave a small nod, and Grams cleared her throat, looking at her watch. “We have fifty minutes left of your appointment time so can we get started?”

  Jones scowled but said nothing. In all the time since he’d entered the room, he’d not once met my eyes. That I took as a sign of his guilt. He knew that I knew who he was and who he worked for.

  I did have to consider that perhaps he hadn’t known who Trapper and Delia were coming to interrogate. But I quickly struck that off as a viable option. Jones never ran an op blind. And there was no way that I was going to sit here and assume he didn’t have an agenda.

  Division 7 had been decimated more than a month ago, but that didn’t mean the people in charge hadn’t seen fit to create Division 7B or whatever.

  “Oh, before we start, can I get identification from your,” Grams paused as she glanced at Jones, “associate, Mr Barnes.”

  Wade leaned closer. “He’s our legal consultant.”

  Grams lifted an eyebrow but didn’t comment as she scribbled a note to research Barnes. The Walker Council could bring whoever they wanted into the interrogation room as long as that person signed the documents to swear that whatever was said within the room will remain private until after the trial.

  That didn’t matter because the Walker Council’s continuing goal would be to ensure the shifters remained unexposed to the human public.

  Trapper began to ask questions, more or less following a similar pattern to Murdoch; how I’d gotten to the abandoned house, what I was doing there, had I come to meet Stella.

  Jones leaned forward, eyes now fixed on my face. “Isn’t it true that you found out Stella was advising us on the illicit activities going on within your home, and that you were so upset at her betrayal that you followed her and killed her?”

  Grams let out a soft laugh. “Already cross-examining the defendant, Mr Barnes? Getting ahead of ourselves, are we?”

  Barnes sent Grams a hard look. “I believe it is my right to question the suspect.”

  “She could very well choose not to speak to you. She’s cooperating so it would be good if you appreciated that fact and kept your questions short and sweet, an
d free of conjecture.”

  Jones-Barnes shifted his gaze from Grams’ piercing glare and looked over at Trapper for a second. Then he spoke again, questioning me further on the gun when it fell from Stella’s hand, where it had been when Marsden had grabbed me and where I had pointed it when I’d shot him.

  I leaned forward. “I didn’t shoot Marsden. He shot himself. He put his hand over mine and pulled the trigger himself.”

  “Now, why would Marsden do such a thing?”

  “He was setting me up so I’d look like I’d tried to kill him.”

  I shook my head, but again Grams tapped my thigh. I kept silent and sat back allowing Barnes to continue with his questions as he ran through what had happened after the paramedics had arrived and up until the gun had gone missing.

  His tone implied I’d had something to do with the disappearance of the weapon.

  Both Grams and I laughed and then Grams gave me an ‘I got this’ look. “Are you seriously suggesting that while my client was lying strapped to a stretcher in the back of an ambulance, she somehow managed to get back inside the house unseen, grab the gun, hide it, and then return to the stretcher?” Grams leaned forward. “It’s perfectly fine if you wish to ask such a question in open court. You’ll get laughed down by the judge, and the case will be thrown out of court. But please, go for it. You’re just making things easy for us.”

  Grams glanced at me and wrote a little more on the writing pad.

  Barnes’ face darkened, and he looked at Trapper again, but this time the Walker Councilman didn’t return the glance. Instead, Trapper bent forward and said, “You will go down for this. We have evidence given by the victim moments before he died. And three witnesses to confirm.”

  “Three witnesses who had something to gain from such a confession.” Grams’ eyes narrowed. “Three witnesses whose testimony would not hold up in court as they would all be considered biased.”

  “How is it that you are planning on convincing the court that we have anything to gain from manipulating this situation?” Wade’s voice was thin and high with laughter as she spoke. “What are you planning on telling them? That the Walker Council doesn’t approve of crossbreeding any longer and that Kailin and her family are the poor persecuted shifter alphas with targets on their backs?” Delia’s face was white with anger, making her red lipstick look stark and out of place on her face. I wondered if she actually believed those words would crush our hopes.