Shattered Spirits

by C. I. Black

  Her showing up at Regis’s favorite Traditionalist’s doorstep to ask questions about a murder she wasn’t supposed to be investigating was beyond dangerous. Even if Nero wasn’t there, Raven was certain to tell him the moment the door had been closed in Capri’s face, and Nero would certainly report back to Regis.

  “Perhaps she has some insight into what Andy was involved in.”

  Capri slid her gaze to Ryan. Just looking at him made her insides warm.

  She jerked her attention back to the frozen road outside the windshield. “I doubt that. He worked closer with Sam Hastings, and Sam didn’t have anything to offer.”

  “Well, then, perhaps Ms. Mitchelle knows what’s going on with the deaths connected to the youth center.”

  “What has that got to do with anything?” But if Andy was murdered because of the teens being turned into human mages, those deaths had everything to do with it.

  Those kids had likely fallen to soul sickness, their spirits unable to withstand sharing a body with a more powerful dragon spirit. Their insanity would have been difficult to hide and detrimental to Zenobia’s plans. She would have had to get rid of them and accidental death was efficient with few hanging questions. Better than just disappearing. With disappearing, there was still family searching for their missing child. With death, nothing more could be done.

  If Raven was somehow involved with that, Capri had to know. The third in command of a coterie had a certain amount of autonomy, so it was foreseeable that Raven had changed allegiances and acted without Nero’s knowledge. But the odds of that were slim, and that put even more doubt on Nero’s true intentions. Who would be in a better position to take the throne when all was said and done than someone so close to it? For all Capri knew, Nero could have manipulated Zenobia into attempting the coup.

  Miller sighed. “I know it’s grasping at straws, but until we can talk to Pimm, or Hiro and the CSU come up with anything, we’ve got nothing.”

  “Maybe we just need to think about it. Take a step back,” she said. Anything to give her time to interview Raven by herself.

  “We have three decapitated bodies in less than two weeks. I’m not sure we have time to mull this over.” He shoved his notepad into his inside coat pocket. “But you’re right. We should probably take a moment and think about this. I’ve got some errands I need to run. Maybe doing something completely different will shake something loose. I’ll drop you back off at your SUV at my sister’s house.”

  She glanced at him again. He looked tired, and sexy, and just like Eric when he was lying. There was a hint of determination in his eyes, the glimmer of a plan. If she hadn’t had years of seeing it already, she would have missed it. He was going to go talk to Raven without her. “So, errands, huh?”

  He rubbed his chin and stared out the windshield.

  Just like Eric used to.

  “If we’re going to work together, we need to trust each other.” She subvocalized her power word and pushed a thread of magic into his mind. Her head pounded as if her headache from earlier had never gone away.

  “Yeah, errands,” he said.

  She pushed harder. Mother, the pain! The muscle in his jaw clenched.

  “I really think we need to talk to Ms. Mitchelle.” His words spilled out in a rush.

  Capri focused on her magic. No, they didn’t want to talk to Raven. It wouldn’t do any good. She wasn’t going to know anything. It was just wasting their time.

  “I know it’s a waste of time.” He pressed his palms against his cheeks. “But it’s a mistake to ignore talking to her. Particularly since we’ve got nothing else to go on.”

  Pressure built in Capri’s head. Her headache roared. “It would be better to take a break, a step back.” Take a breath, look at the big picture.

  “I don’t think we have enough of the picture yet.” He squeezed his eyes shut.

  Pain snapped through her head. Sharp, agonizing.

  “I’m talking with Ms. Mitchelle,” Ryan said. “I don’t care if it’s not important. I need a better feel for the youth center, and she’s the person to talk to.”

  Another crack of pain. Capri’s magic burst from his mind. It seared over her, burning through her veins, blinding her.

  “You can take my car. I’ll call a cab.” He opened the door to get out.

  “No.” She fought to clear her vision, catch her breath, anything to feel even the slightest bit normal and not reveal her agony. “No, we’ll talk with her together.”

  Mother of All. She’d never experienced anyone resist her earth magic like that before.

  CHAPTER 24

  Nero’s estate sat on a large swath of property on the outskirts of Newgate. Capri struggled not to grind her teeth as Miller drove up the winding driveway to the massive house sitting on the hill. Her head still pounded with agonizing beats, and the sun, which had finally broken through the clouds, sat low on the horizon, eye level, burning into her brain. It was only 5 p.m., but this time of year the sunset came early, making it feel much later in the day than it actually was. But perhaps that had more to do with her headache—the one neither painkillers nor her soul magic could touch—and her inability to figure out how Miller had broken her earth magic compulsion.

  “Ms. Mitchelle lives here?” he asked.

  “The estate is owned by Nero Tassinari.”

  “The man’s name is Nero? As in the Roman emperor Nero? Wow, talk about a pretentious family.”

  Oh, he didn’t know the half of it. “Mr. Tassinari has holdings all over the world. I suspect the youth center is an attempt at tax breaks.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “Previous investigation,” she said.

  Ryan parked in the circular driveway before the massive front steps and equally impressive front doors. “And was Ms. Mitchelle a part of that investigation?”

  “No.” Capri eased from the Camaro. Pain snapped through her head and the icy world twisted and darkened. She grabbed the door. She wouldn’t faint. Mother of All, she couldn’t faint.

  “You all right?” Eric asked—

  No. Ryan.

  “Fine,” she growled. “Let’s see if Ms. Mitchelle is home.” She shoved away from the car and, with force of will keeping her upright, marched up the stairs and rang the doorbell.

  “You sure—?”

  She bared her teeth at him. “Yes.”

  His eyes widened, and he inched back a step.

  Oh, shit. She’d revealed a hint of her drake-self. His mind wouldn’t know what he’d just seen, but his instincts would know she was a predator.

  “Miller, I’m fine. Really. Just—”

  The door opened, and Miller straightened. A pretty drake stood in the doorway. She looked about thirty, but Capri got the sense that she was old. Her aura was edged with brighter, multicolored light. The bigger and stronger the edging, the older the drake—or at least that’s what Capri saw; other drakes might see something else. This was a drake who could remember the Great Scourge, and a drake didn’t live that long, or avoid rebirth, without being smart. Wonderful.

  “Is Ms. Mitchelle home?” Ryan asked.

  The drake slid her gaze from Capri to Ryan then back to Capri.

  “This is Special Agent Jones. We have questions for Ms. Mitchelle about her employee, Mr. Reynolds.”

  The drake’s eyes narrowed. “Of course. Please come in. I’ll go get her.” And then, of course, call Nero and tell him what was going on.

  They stepped into a large foyer with a church pew sitting against the left wall and a pedestal table with a pot of flowering nightshade against the right. The drake motioned to the pew, indicating they should sit, and then she headed down the hall.

  Ryan sat, the wood squeaking with his weight, and pulled out his notepad. She glanced at the spot beside him. Just the idea of sitting there made her twitch with the need to get the hell out of there—even though she’d already done whatever damage she was going to do just by showing up. But another part of her, the
part that pounded in her skull and throbbed around her heart, wanted to sit and feel his warmth, just be beside him.

  He glanced up, his pale gaze meeting hers. Fear flickered across his expression, along with desire and something else she couldn’t quite discern. But there had still been fear and that desire could have been her magic influencing him. She shouldn’t have let him see her drake. She shouldn’t have made him kiss her. She needed to erase that, make him forget everything.

  He shifted, his gaze jumping back to his notebook, and her heart contracted. She had to fix this.

  But maybe it was for the best. If he was afraid of her, then she couldn’t fall in love with him, or rather back in love with who he reminded her of. What she felt for him wasn’t real. It wasn’t him she loved.

  She inched to the edge of the foyer and stared down the hall. Polished wood floors, paneling, doors, and furniture. Even in the soft light of the crystal chandeliers, everything gleamed.

  A door at the far end of the hall opened and a teenage girl stepped out, her ponytail bouncing with her giggles. A bright green aura pulsed around her. Capri’s exhaustion froze. Even the pounding in her head froze.

  She was staring at a mage. Mother of All, she was so young. Fifteen at the most.

  Maybe she was a drake. Her aura was bright. Nero would never have a human mage in his house, unless his claim that he was a Traditionalist was a lie, a way to get closer to the throne.

  No, the girl had to be a drake. But the Handmaiden didn’t rebirth drakes into immature bodies, because the bodies stopped aging and would never reach adulthood. Even Gig, while looking like a teenager, was in the body of a twenty year old.

  Capri had to have seen wrong. That was it. Her head hurt. Miller awoke wonderful and terrible memories. She wasn’t thinking straight, and she certainly wasn’t seeing things straight.

  The girl turned back to the doorway and giggled again at something said from within the room. Her aura flickered again.

  Ah, shit. Without a doubt she was human and a mage. A powerful one at that, from how bright her aura was. Which meant whoever had made her into a mage had to have resided in her long enough to ensure a strong connection to the earth’s magic.

  The girl turned toward Capri and froze, her eyes large. Her aura beat stronger, the radius expanding around her. Mother of All, whatever earth magic she possessed was incredibly strong.

  Capri tensed, her hand inching to her sidearm. But the kid’s eyes were so large, so scared.

  Dragon law said the girl had to be killed. Their race needed to be protected, needed to be kept secret. But that didn’t make sense anymore. Hunter’s inamorata was human. She knew about them, and she wasn’t going to betray them.

  A boy, a few years older then the girl, stepped up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. He, too, had the wavering aura of a human mage. His eyes widened as well.

  Capri subvocalized her power word. She didn’t want trouble, but the kids hadn’t moved. They kept staring at her while she kept staring at them. And now her head pounded even more.

  The door opened again, and Anaea stepped into the hall.

  What the—?

  Anaea said something to the teens, and they rushed down a side hall a few feet away. She turned to Capri, her aura a brilliant, unwavering white.

  “Capri?”

  Miller’s footsteps sounded behind her. “What’s up?” he asked.

  Damn it, now he knew she had a connection to someone here. There was going to be one hell of an argument once this interview was over. A part of her thrilled at the idea. But she was going to have to pull rank, tell him it was FBI business, say he didn’t have security clearance, or something, or rip into his mind and erase everything.

  “Ms. Salis.”

  Anaea’s eyes narrowed, and Capri took the magic she’d activated when she’d subvocalized her power word and slid it into Anaea’s head. It had sort of worked back at the lawyers’ office. Maybe if Anaea wasn’t freaked out, Capri would have more success.

  “Capri—?” Anaea’s aura flared in response to Capri’s magic.

  Capri struggled not to squint against its glare. If Ryan saw her, he wouldn’t understand what was going on since he couldn’t see auras.

  She willed Anaea to listen to her, trying to use her magic to alert the woman to use caution.

  “Detective Miller, this is Anaea Salis.” Please don’t ask too many questions. It’s not safe.

  “Ms. Salis.” There was an edge to Miller’s voice that Capri couldn’t quite place. It probably had to do with the secrets he suspected Capri was keeping from him. Boy, if he only knew the truth…

  He’d probably lose his mind like every other human.

  A small voice within her reminded her that Anaea hadn’t lost her mind. She wasn’t soul sick and she, a human, knew about dragons.

  But Anaea was a one-in-a-million kind of human.

  “I didn’t know you worked for Mr. Tassinari.”

  “Mr.—?” Anaea’s gaze darted to Ryan. “Oh, no. My… fiancé has business with him.”

  Her fiancé. The love of her life. The pain in Capri’s head radiated down her neck and across her chest. Not every drake was fortunate enough to find her inamorator. Most drakes didn’t. And really, Capri was happy for Hunter. But why would Hunter have business with Nero? Hunter hadn’t come out and said he was against the Traditionalists, but hell, he was eternally bound to a human sorcerer. That flew in the face of all dragon traditions.

  Except there were human mages wandering around Nero’s house. And what the hell did any of this mean? It couldn’t possibly mean Nero and Hunter were involved with Zenobia’s mages. That wasn’t either drake’s style. These kids were also younger than the mages Diablo and her team had been chasing, like the kids back at the youth center. Which meant…? She had no idea.

  Movement at the end of the hall drew her attention. Grey headed toward her, his gaze jumping from her to Anaea.

  “Capri?” he asked.

  “Do you know everyone in this house?” Miller asked.

  Grey opened his mouth.

  “This is Detective Miller. We’re investigating Andy Reynolds’s death. We’re here to talk with Raven Mitchelle,” Capri said. Please, let this farce end so she could corner Grey and find out what the hell was going on.

  “Of course,” Anaea said. “Absolutely, Special Agent Jones. I’ll go get Ms. Mitchelle for you.”

  “No need,” a soft feminine voice said from the far end of the hall. A leggy brunette with a long ponytail, the tip brushing her waist, strode toward them. “Ms. Salis, I suggest you continue your research.”

  “Of course, Raven.” Anaea nodded, grabbed Grey’s arm, and dragged him down the hall.

  “What can I do for you, Special Agent?” Raven asked, her tone dark.

  “You’re the coordinator for the Newgate Youth Center?” Miller asked.

  “Yes.” Raven’s glare never left Capri. Once the human, Ryan, was gone, they were going to have a serious conversation.

  Oh, yes, they were. Did Nero even know there were human mages running around his house? How could he not? He was the coterie’s doyen.

  CHAPTER 25

  The heavy front doors closed behind Ryan, and he fought the urge to pound on them and demand the truth. Raven Mitchelle had lied to them. Bold-faced, blatantly lied. That boy in the hall had been the same one whose picture stood enshrine at the youth center, Tyler. The one who’d died in the fire, just like Pete had. But the more Ryan thought about Pete’s death, the more it felt fake.

  Seeing that kid made it really feel fake. Except Ryan had no proof of anything. Just a gut feeling, and while a good detective didn’t ignore his gut, he also looked for proof. And right now, he couldn’t grab the teen and demand DNA to prove whether he was Tyler Pimm or not. Not without looking completely insane.

  “Are you coming?” Jones stared at him. She stood halfway to the Camaro, bathed in twilight. Between entering the house and exiting, night had fallen and
so too had the chance to learn anything. Even she looked exhausted and pained, but about what, Ryan didn’t know. There were too many options, the fact that the case was going nowhere, or that she was keeping secrets from him—not that he could be too upset about that. He was keeping secrets as well. Regardless, there was no hint of the monster he’d seen earlier, and while she didn’t look as if she was going to faint, either, she still didn’t look good.

  “When was the last time you slept?”

  She cocked an eyebrow, sassiness overwhelming the exhaustion. “Excuse me?”

  “You look tired. We should take a break.”

  “A break?” A hint of that monster edged her expression. No, not a monster, a primal, ferocious… creature. Like a panther or a hawk. Wild, free, and crazy sexy.

  Jeez. He lost all common sense around this woman. She was so vivacious and confident. Maybe his mind turned her into a creature because his brain couldn’t recognize such strength in such a small, sexy package.

  Even more ridiculous, he wanted to be chivalrous and do things for her—and watch her resist his kindness, fighting it tooth and nail.

  “What the hell are you smiling at, Miller?” she asked.

  Oh, yes, let’s play this game.

  He strode off the steps, his boots crunching in the salt, and marched to her. “Let me take you home.”

  “My car is at your sister’s house.”

  “I’m not sure it’s safe for you to drive in your condition.”

  She leaned forward, her breath, a frosty mist, curling around her face. “My condition?” Heat flared in her eyes.

  “You almost fainted. I should drop you off at home for a power nap. Then we should do dinner. Get your blood sugar up.” And that would give him a chance to return here and find out what was really going on with a kid who should be dead, but wasn’t—if in fact that was Tyler Pimm. Not to mention figure out why everyone in that house seemed to know Capri on a first-name basis.

  Capri rose on tiptoe, drawing her nose closer to his. “My blood sugar is fine, I didn’t faint, and I don’t need a power nap.”