Sword of Justice (La Patron's Sword Book 3)

by Sydney Addae

  “No, we are looking out for our future. Now that this woman has returned, she will replace us. What if the daughter returns as well, where does that leave us?” Randi sat next to her, an earnest look on her face. So beautiful, so vindictive, so greedy. Thalia knew without asking that this whole idea had been her daughter’s.

  “Returned?” The older woman snorted. “His mate was never lost. They have always been together. You meddle in things you don’t understand. This is bad, nothing good will come from what you’ve done.”

  “Can he find her?” Randi asked in a soft voice, glancing at the woman on the sofa.

  Thalia pushed wisps of hair behind her ear as she scoffed. “Now you become afraid, you should. His reach is long and so is his memory. If she were awake he could find her, and even in her sleep there is a chance they can find each other. Remove her from here and do not return. I pray he does not turn me out of the only home I have ever had. That too, will rest on your heads,” she snapped.

  Amynta moved slightly on the sofa and moaned.

  Randi shook a liquid onto a white cloth and handed it to Raoul. “Take this, place it over her mouth and nose.”

  He did as she asked until Amynta stopped moving.

  “Leave my house and don’t return.” Thalia couldn’t believe her children had turned outlaw against their Alpha.

  “You are making more of this than necessary,” Randi snapped, standing quickly and pointing to Amynta. “There is a bounty of three million dollars on her head that will allow us to leave this place and Lord Barticus behind.”

  Thalia stared at her daughter and wondered what had happened, when had the child change into this soulless person standing in front of her. “Three million is nothing compared to what Lord Barticus has given you and would have given you before this. He considered you his own and you betray him like this.”

  “He killed my father,” Randi yelled.

  Thalia jumped up and pointed at her. “No. The men who killed your father are dead by Lord Barticus’ hand. You will not make this about Oslo, a good man who served his Alpha with honor. This is your greed, your inability to be happy with your life. Such an angry little girl, why? What has he done but be good to you?”

  Randi’s jaw clenched. Her nostrils flared before she twisted her lips and stepped back, staring at Thalia with a cold eye. “Let’s go, Raoul. She’s high again, as usual. Maybe if you didn’t smoke so much hashish we could have a decent conversation, perhaps you would support your own flesh and blood instead of the man you’ve wanted to fuck all these years.”

  Thalia’s arm flew out and she slapped Randi without thinking. Fingers trembling, she bared her canines and pointed. “I serve my Alpha with the same loyalty and respect my mate did. But you have no idea what that means, do you? I know my Alpha’s mated. Even if he wanted to be with another woman, he couldn’t. Why do you think no one has ever seen him in public with one of those beauties who throw themselves at him all the time? Why do you think he doesn’t mind taking the two of you all those places? You were his dates, harmless, innocent, and it kept other women away. And that was my idea.”

  “Your idea? Why?” Raoul asked, moving a chest-heaving Randi aside.

  “Mates can only be with their mates sexually. He would kill any man sniffing around his mate. Do you think she would allow him to date another woman?” She tilted her head toward Amynta. “Plus, he loved the two of you like his own. So I suggested he take you with him, show you the world. The places he took you, the people you met, it never would’ve happened otherwise. I wanted you to become more than you would be by just sitting here.” She shook her head. “Look at you now. Puffed up and jealous over his mate, and his flesh and blood.” She frowned. “He owes you nothing, but you owe him everything. He’s your Alpha first.”

  No one spoke.

  “Take her away from here,” Thalia said, pointing at Amynta. “Be very careful how you handle her. It could cost you your lives.”

  “We made a mistake –”

  “Raoul?” Randi shouted. “We still need to prepare for our future, now more than before. Maybe go to the states, start over.”

  Raoul shook his head. “Mam’s right, we acted dishonorably and need to make amends.”

  Randi shook her head. “No.”

  Raoul turned and looked at her. “Yes, Ran. We fucked up, let’s make this right. Mam’s right, there’s no way we win in this situation. We know better than most how Barticus –”

  “Lord Barticus,” his mam corrected.

  “We know how Lord Barticus deals with those who cross him. We are not blood kin, he can destroy us and no one will blink or cross him to help us. We need to contact him and then take her to him and beg him to forgive us.”

  Thalia thanked the gods one of her children had a brain and nodded at Raoul.

  Randi stared at Raoul. “Really, that’s what you think we should do? What if he disowns us? Turns us out without anything? How will we live?”

  Raoul smiled. “Use that fancy Master’s degree you earned and get another job. Mam’s right. He’s done so much for us already and we served him a bad turn. Time to make it right. Bring the car around.”

  Randi stared at him for a few moments longer, glanced at her mam and then left the room.

  “That one’s got no heart,” Thalia said, watching Raoul pick Amynta up.

  “She has heart, just not for many beyond herself,” he said, chuckling. “Could you give us some time to contact him, it’d be better if we come clean without being tattled on.”

  “One hour, that’s all you get.”

  “Thanks, Mam.” He winked before he walked to the door, down the steps, and into the car. Once he settled Amynta in the back seat, he turned and waved at her.

  Thalia closed the door and locked it. Leaning against the solid cool wood, she prayed she’d done the right thing by giving them one hour.

  Chapter 23

  Ira looked over his shoulder, peering down the dark lane, certain someone followed him from the temple. Sweat coated his face as he pushed open the metal gate, cringing at the creaking sound as he slid through and then warded it behind him. Not that it would keep anyone out, but it would alert him if someone entered. Moving quickly, he rapped on the wooden door several times while listening intently for sounds of life.

  A shuffle-like noise grabbed his attention. He placed his ear to the door, straining to hear if former High Priest Brevert would answer.

  “It’s late,” the brusque voice spoke from the other side.

  “Yes, but this is important.” Ira mopped his forehead with his sleeve and waited. Moments ticked by before the door cracked open.

  “Come in, move quickly, you let in the cool air.” He waved Ira inside and closed the door behind them. The sound of the lock shoved in place came next. Brevert’s white bushy eyebrows furrowed as he looked Ira over. “Take off the cape, hang it there, and come tell me why you disturb an old man’s rest.” He turned and shuffled toward an oversized red, blue and yellow plaid chair in front of a blazing fireplace, the primary light in the room.

  When Ira finished removing his cape, Brevert waved him to the chair next to him. Shadows chased each other on the wall, heightening Ira’s apprehension. Books were stacked on every available surface and filled floor to ceiling bookcases, reminding Ira of Brevert’s current occupation as a professor in a nearby college.

  Collecting his tumbled thoughts, Ira wondered where to begin. He hadn’t been able to sleep or rest since that disturbing dream, more like a nightmare, of Nicromja and the Goddess. His entire world tumbled around him and he couldn’t navigate through a world where he was unsure if his god was worthy of service or not.

  “I had a dream, an extremely realistic dream two nights past.” His gaze met Brevert’s. “In this dream I was transported someplace.” He waved his hands. “Where I heard a conversation between Nicromja and the Goddess.”

  Brevert nodded as if this revelation was common. Ira frowned. Perhaps it was. “When you were
High Priest, did you ever experience such a thing?”

  His host leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a long moment. “Yes.”

  Excited and relieved, Ira leaned forward, eager to hear a better report than what he experienced. “What happened?”

  “Nicromja is as many of the other gods, boastful, egotistical. At that time he wasn’t happy to be assigned to just the wolves, he wanted other breeds to worship him as well.”

  “That makes sense, he is powerful.”

  Brevert looked at him for a long second. “Tell me what you heard in your vision.”

  Ira swallowed hard. The words sounded treasonous in his mind, he couldn’t imagine how they’d taste if he spoke them. But he had come here seeking advice, if not answers, to his dilemma.

  “The Goddess chastised him for not answering prayers or responding to his people. He became offended and defended himself.” That statement glossed over the conversation without making his Lord sound childish or too egotistical.

  Brevert scowled. “If you do not intend to be honest and tell me what actually happened, you should leave now. I am too old to play guessing games. The reason you are here is because whatever you heard disturbed you. Interrupted your life. Now tell me what was said.” His voice boomed with the same authority he’d used for decades of serving in the temple.

  Ira nodded and repeated the parts of the vision he remembered. Hearing it again bothered him on a visceral level and made his stomach queasy. When he finished, his skin felt prickly, dirty. He looked at Brevert to gauge his actions. The smile on the older man’s face startled him.

  “What’s funny?” he snapped, forgetting for the moment he came for an honest opinion of his dream.

  “The Goddess told him off, wouldn’t allow him wiggle room. That’s good. Good for everyone.”

  Ira’s mouth opened and then snapped shut. “Why do you say that? She disrespected him.”

  “She is the Goddess. His superior, and he knows she has protected him and us while he finds his way. Maybe she grows tired of correcting his mistakes.” Brevert shrugged.

  Ira’s head whipped around as a prayer of forgiveness left his mouth over the blasphemous words.

  “Relax, I will share something that should make this easier for you,” Brevert said.

  Ira covered his hands to keep them from shaking and couldn’t have uttered a word if he tried. To hear anything that placed Nicromja in a bad light from the former High Priest, Brevert, did not ease the butterflies in his belly. He desperately needed to hear or feel something to restore his faith.

  “Nicromja is a minor god given one job. To serve male wolves. That is his job description. The Goddess has always been over all wolves, but she allowed him this… let’s call it, opportunity to prove himself.”

  Ira blinked and then swallowed. He had never heard such rubbish in his long life. The Goddess and all women were inferior to men. Always have been.

  Brevert raised his hands. “Easy, hear all of it before you shut me out.” He stared at Ira until he nodded. After all, he had come for answers.

  “I won’t go into a long history lesson, besides you know most of it already, except the beginning. Suffice it to say the Goddess is above Nicromja, she serves dual-natured humans, like us. There are others who worship her as well.”

  Ira understood that and could see how some might assume her superiority. “Go on.”

  “But Nicromja has not done his job. He comes and goes, like the wind. Touching down for brief moments of time, often leaving chaos behind. Think, when was the last time he answered a prayer or gave instructions?”

  Ira didn’t respond because Brevert knew the answer. Nicromja’s obvious absence was the reason so many of their followers had left the temple and now worshipped the Goddess. Even the small sect of priests who helped Ira raise Barticus had left the order or retired.

  “At least a century,” Brevert answered. “Look at the Goddess’ work. She sent a black wolf to an untamed land to help those in the new world, made him their champion, and now they out-number full-bloods across the globe. They are prosperous, live well, have the best education system world-wide, which insures they will continue their prosperity. Nicromja could have done the same thing here but he did not. Instead he disappeared, left us alone, and what happened?”

  “We are scattered, no sense of brotherhood?” As Brevert made his case, Ira noticed the differences and agreed they had been left adrift.

  “Easy pickings for scavengers to use and abuse. There’s a human group who’s used full-bloods as test animals for centuries and no one stopped them. Quite the opposite, some Alphas profited by this horrendous act. As long as the group remained on this continent, it prospered. But they became greedy and opened labs in America, on La Patron’s pack land.”

  Ira recalled the jealousy in Nicromja’s voice over the success of the Goddess’ pack. “He defeated them?”

  Brevert nodded. “From what I have heard, he closed down their labs and have them on the run. Unfortunately, that means they will return here and continue their work.”

  “Why do you say that?” Ira asked, surprised at such a dire prediction.

  “Because no one will stop them, and they made billions of Euros with their products. They have no reason to stop and every reason to continue.”

  Ira agreed Brevert made sense. Something else bothered him. “Why do you think that conversation with the Goddess was a good thing? It interrupted my faith, makes it harder to complete my tasks in the temple. I cannot help but wonder why I continue when it seems a colossal waste of time.” He looked at his companion while praying for forgiveness for voicing the blasphemous words.

  “Because it will make Nicromja think or act. She allowed you to hear it all, to be a part of what she needed to do to jump-start him, if you will. No question he was angry, but it may challenge him to do better than she has done. He’s very competitive.”

  “She did not challenge him,” Ira corrected, not wanting his friend to get the wrong idea.

  “Yes, she did. Not in a direct manner, but a challenge to see if he could match her success with her male wolves. It may take him a short while to embrace it, but he will act again, she prepared you for it.”

  Ira nodded slowly, going over the parts of the conversation he recalled. The confidence in Brevert’s voice shook him. “How do you know this?”

  “It happened to me. Just before Barticus was brought to the temple to be trained as Nicromja’s vessel. Despite fasting and praying day and night, we had no idea what the god wanted us to do once the child arrived. Other than teach him literature and educate him in the ways of service, as a priest, we did not understand how to make the child into a vessel.”

  Ira nodded. He had just been upgraded to assist Brevert in his High Priest duties because of the extra care of the child.

  “The child arrived and we treated him as a young full-blood. Nothing special. After a year of nothing, my faith, like yours, shifted. I feared we had stripped a family of their son, and had nothing to offer in return. Barticus’ family had refused the sum of money from the temple and counted it an honor their son had been chosen to serve.”

  Ira vaguely recalled the Norwegian full-bloods. A few years after they left Barticus at the temple, their ship overturned in the sea, all were lost. Barticus became a true orphan.

  “One day after service, I lay prostrate before Nicromja in the inner sanctuary and I had a vision.” He looked at Ira. “It was similar to what you described. The Goddess scolded him for sowing seeds and mixing blood, dire consequences, that type thing. Her anger singed my eyebrows.” He chuckled. “She mentioned the babe, his family, never directly challenged him, but reminded him of his duties. I was disappointed in his attitude and swore my allegiance to the Goddess that very day.”

  Ira’s brow rose. He hadn’t known of this defection. He couldn’t serve a female god. Nicromja, for all his failings, was far superior in his mind.

  “Three days later, the cup with the nec
tar was placed in the inner sanctuary. Because my heart was no longer in service to Nicromja, I turned over the pup’s care to you. Remember? We rejoiced that Nicromja answered our prayers.”

  Ira couldn’t speak and nodded. He had been overjoyed at the honor when the High Priest asked him to retrieve the nectar and feed it to the pup. Tears of joy had rolled down his cheeks as Barticus drank the gift from Nicromja for several years.

  “Not long after that, I retired. My heart belonged to another and not a day has passed that I regret my service to the Goddess.” He smiled at Ira. “I never explained any of this to another person before, but you need to know so that you will be prepared when Nicromja returns.”

  “I am still a believer.” Ira felt the need to make his allegiance clear.

  “Good, that will serve you well, because he may make an appearance this time and will test your heart. It would not be good if it were divided.”

  “He is the god I will serve with my last breath,” Ira said, firmly believing his words. Nicromja needed a human to serve him, Ira decided he would be that person. He failed before, that still rankled, but he would make up for it this time.

  Brevert smiled and nodded. “Then you are prepared. No one can stand before his Master unsure. He may require a show of loyalty, be ready for anything.”

  Encouraged by his decision, Ira stood. “Thank you so much for listening and advising me in this matter. My mind is now clear and my goals steadfast on the path to take. As always, I wish you the very best.”

  Brevert stood and walked him to the door. “Be well my friend. We will see each other on the other side.” With that odd remark, Brevart closed the door, leaving Ira on the porch wondering what he meant.

  Chapter 24

  Barticus slammed on the brakes, turned the steering wheel to the right and peeled down the highway in the opposite direction. Jaw tight, he leaned forward as if his posture would make the SUV travel faster than its current speed of one hundred miles per hour.