by Vyne, Amanda
“First, I think, under the circumstances, you should avail yourself of one of my secure suites on the upper level. It will make it easier to protect you. And second, Agent Merrick will be assigned to your security. Where you go, he goes.”
Katya jolted upright in her chair and barely managed to conceal her wince as a sharp pain lanced through her thigh. She wanted to protest, and even parted her lips to do just that, but Kyeros lifted a hand to silence her.
“I do not make a habit of indulging sensitivities, Ms. Schaffer. In my line of business, it can get you killed. So I’ll be perfectly frank here. I cannot imagine what you endured these past months, but you are, in fact, mated to Raife.”
This time Katya did attempt a protest, shaking her head. She hadn’t consciously chosen to be mated to him, and she couldn’t accept that level of commitment when she didn’t know what role he’d played in her ending up in that research facility.
Once again Kyeros cut her off. “This is not a topic that is open for discussion.” His voice was sharp, and she felt a sudden shift of power in the room.
“I take exception to the way you are speaking to my mate, Forestor.”
Katya turned to look at Raife. The threat in his voice had every hair on the back of her neck rising. He had pushed away from the wall, his arms hanging at his sides. Those amber eyes were electrified.
Kyeros had come to his feet behind his desk, and his eyes were locked with Raife’s even as he spoke to Katya. “As you can see, as long as he perceives a weakness in the strength of your bond, he will be unstable. This is a delicate time during the bonding process, and I cannot risk either of you to your stubbornness.”
With a sigh, she reached out to Raife, touched him with her mind. At first he didn’t respond. His mind was perfectly and totally focused on what he saw as a threat. She could read his need, his complete determination to protect her at all cost, even if that cost was his boss. Or his life.
Resigned, Katya reached deeper into him, and it felt like a physical touch. She was immersed in him until she couldn’t feel her own skin. In order to accept him, she would have to accept that level of connection, and she didn’t think she could. The risk was too high. Her heart started to pound, and panic singed the edges of the calm she’d been working to maintain since she woke this morning.
Raife pulled back before she could, and she darted a confused look at him. His eyes were focused on her. For a moment, something shadowed his golden depths, and she felt an overwhelming sense of shared longing. She didn’t need to link with him to understand it. Something had been lost between them in these past months, and she felt the loss as much as he.
“Okay, let’s get down to business, shall we?” Kyeros reseated himself and folded his hands on his desk. “Start with where you rendered one of my employees unconscious and stole her clothing.”
Katya winced. “I apologize for that. I…” Shaking her head, she smoothed back unruly strands of her hair. She was completely exhausted, and her body felt battered and bruised in ways that would never be visible. “I woke up frightened. I wanted to go home.”
Home. The word made her ache and feel a cavernous sense of emptiness the hole in the research facility could never duplicate. Raife shifted restlessly but kept his distance.
“The place I grew up was empty, so I went to the Bay House citadel to find answers.”
Forestor nodded, his eyes expressionless. “Explain to me what occurred at the Bay House citadel this morning. My sources report there was a disturbance.”
If a large wingback chair flying out of the second story window could be classified as a disturbance. Katya sighed. “I went there to speak with Elder Grayson, to find my uncle. They made claims that just can’t be possible.” Katya surged to her feet and winced as the skin of her thigh pulled tight with a pinch. She’d healed mostly, but the piece of silver just beneath her flesh pushed little sharp pains through her thigh as she gingerly paced away from them. “They said before I ended up at that…that…place, I was bonded to a Sanguen from Wales, that he came for me. I don’t remember any such thing.”
The nostrils of Forester’s thin patrician nose flared as he appraised her. “You believe they are lying.”
“No.” She sighed at his disbelieving look. “Maybe. I don’t know.” Katya turned and pushed her disheveled hair from her face with an impatient brush of her hand. “I only know I clearly remember being in Raife’s apartment.” She cast a glance at him through her lashes. “Then I remember waking up strapped down to a cot in the lab. My memories of my time in that place are razor-sharp. Why would I not remember being bonded? Or my uncle’s ascension ceremony when he was made an elder? How could I not remember being kidnapped by Rebels?”
Forestor’s head tilted just slightly, his eyes shadowed. “Rebels?”
“Yes, my uncle claims I was taken from my bloodmate by Rebels. Some kind of blood vendetta, one that evidently resulted in my parents being killed twenty years ago.” With a confused shake of her head, she related the entire story her uncle had given her.
“I was there.” A muscle ticked in Raife’s jaw as he studied her for a long moment. He always avoided the subject of that night and refused to offer any details. “I don’t know your uncle’s game or what happened to your father, but your mother’s killer was a male Sanguen who was very much under the influence of something nasty.”
Pacing stiffly, Katya tried to recall that night. She remembered golden eyes with elongated black pupils and a deep, soothing voice in her mind. That was it. Her first memory was of Raife. Of feeling safe.
“Even if he were telling the truth, I was only four. Why would Rebels be interested in me after all these years? I don’t know a thing about them besides what I was told, and that wasn’t much.”
Forestor stroked his hand down his beard. “Rebel activity has increased the past fifty years or more. They don’t seem content to live under the radar anymore. There have been rumors from some substantial sources that prominent bloodlines who have been members of the Arcane Alliance since the beginning are now changing their loyalties and assisting the Rebels.”
Raife snorted. “Why doesn’t that surprise me? The Alliance hasn’t offered much in the way of protection for some time. They side more often than not with the Triumvirate.”
“The Matriarch has long since allied herself with the Triumvirate and become useless to the Alliance.”
“I don’t understand.” Katya shook her head in confusion. She felt at a distinct disadvantage as she glanced from one man to the other. She realized she’d been sheltered most of her life, which was how most Sanguen females were traditionally raised, but she clearly lacked an understanding of the basic politics of her own species. “I thought the Matriarch was ordained at birth because she was a natural balance to the power of the Triumvirate.”
Forestor looked down at her, and his expression was passive, but the waves of savagery roiling off him had her instinctively stepping back. “She may have been born into it, but there is obviously nothing that guarantees she will remain a pure source of power. Elementals, by their very nature, are susceptible to corruption. Our Matriarch”—he sneered—“is obviously not immune.”
Katya watched the dangerous man, for once grateful of the protective presence of Raife at her back. “But anyone who belonged to the Arcane Alliance is bound to the Triumvirate through blood magic, even if the Matriarch cast them out of the Alliance. They can’t just become Rebels.”
“No,” Raife agreed, the heat of his body warming her as he drew closer. “But just because they’re bound to those bitches doesn’t mean they can control their actions. The Triumvirate just gets to use them as little batteries, draining them for their own use. It’s how they’ve managed to stay alive for the last five centuries, collectively pulling from the Arcane. Every single species that participated in that blood magic five hundred years ago passed that curse on.”
Katya looked up over her shoulder, where Raife had moved close enough to lay the
heated weight of his hand on her lower back. “I thought it was just an exchange of power, not a drain.” At least that was how her uncle had presented it to her. The Triumvirate was made up of three Elemental sisters. They’d formed a blood pact with the remaining Arcane families to initiate a power exchange so they would be powerful enough to protect the Arcane from being hunted by the humans during the Burning Times.
Forestor shook his head, his emotions under control. “My grandfather once told me that hundreds of years ago, the lifespan of every member of the Arcane was two to three times the length of humans. Now, Ms. Schaffer, most will never even see a century of life. The Triumvirate drains them through the blood-magic exchange.”
“What of Drachon, Raife? Most of your species live well past two hundred years.”
Raife’s face hardened, and his hand twitched at her back. “Only those who find a mate. We’ve always been a reclusive species, historically preferring to exist on our own. Very few Drachon participated in the blood magic. Almost none of my kind has ever been part of the Arcane Alliance.” He looked at her, and she was helpless against the sudden wave of anger that radiated from him. “The Triumvirate tried to force my people into the pact. When that didn’t work, they tried to wipe us out. And when male Drachon proved too difficult to kill, they lured us away from our homes and hunted our women and children. It’s why we’re on the brink of extinction now.”
His fury consumed her, and her mind instinctively reached for his, attempting to ease him before she was even aware of the action. His gaze settled to where her hand lay on his arm. He felt warm and solid beneath her palm.
Lowering her eyes, she stepped away from him and turned back to Forestor, ignoring his narrowed attention. “So that doesn’t explain why my uncle believes the Rebels have any interest in me.”
Forestor rocked forward in his chair and folded his hands on his desk. “If I noticed the increase in Rebel activity, I image the Triumvirate noticed it as well. Most powerful Sanguen Houses are closely aligned to the Triumvirate.”
“Why would the Triumvirate even care? As long as the Arcane exist for them to siphon power off of, the Rebels can’t do anything to them.”
“Perhaps so. Their interest in you may give us some clue what they hope to achieve. If they were indeed responsible for you being in the research facility.”
Katya sat back down in her chair, extended her injured leg, and rubbed at her forehead. “The doctor’s name was Dr. Rupple. He felt human. He had several other assistants. His favorite was a redheaded woman. She was definitely Arcane, maybe even Elemental. On that last day, she was trying to communicate with me. I think she was trying to get me out, but I didn’t trust her. She gave me a sedative. She said I would understand later. Gave me some shit about not letting it get away.”
Raife and Forestor exchanged a look over her head.
“So we could possibly be looking at two different factions at work here,” Raife mused, his feet making soft thuds behind her as he paced. “Earlier today Katya was fighting with six men. Four were definitely Guardians. Two seemed to be protecting her; they fought like Guardians, but they shimmered away when we joined the fight. Likely crossbreeds. All of them were hell-bent to take her alive and uninjured.”
Katya rubbed at her thigh. That would explain why the one shot her with silver so she couldn’t shimmer and then assured her she wouldn’t bleed out in the next breath.
Forestor rubbed his beard, his eyes narrowed on her thoughtfully. “It seems likely you are caught in the middle of a struggle between the Triumvirate and the Rebels. What we need to know is why they find you so valuable.”
Katya ached from the weight of it all. She’d never be safe, never be given a moment of peace. If both the Rebels and the Triumvirate were after her, then that left her with nowhere else to turn. She could run and risk being caught and returned to the lab, or stay here and trust Raife and his team at Incog. She looked up into his glittering gold of his gaze as it moved possessively over her and wasn’t sure which could prove more dangerous to her.
Chapter Eleven
“I’m fine,” Katya told him again. She’d had to go back to the infirmary and have the little silver pellet removed from her thigh. Raife had hovered and snarled as the poor nurse had nervously cut into her flesh.
Already the wound was healed, leaving nothing but a faint twinge as she restlessly explored their borrowed suite under the weight of Raife’s eyes following her relentlessly. He said nothing, his presence filling the space until she felt confined in the suite. He tracked her movement from the door of the bathroom to what had to be a floor-to-ceiling window.
There was a specialized louvered shade imbedded between the panes of glass. Her uncle’s house had been fitted with such shades. They were timed to seal shut on sunrise and reopen at dusk. A necessity for a Sanguen forced to mainstream in human society.
Pressing her hand against the glass, she felt the warmth radiate over her palm.
The sun.
She reached out to run her fingers thoughtfully over the control panel to the window.
A Sanguen who craved the heat of the sun yet could hardly tolerate it. She did not have the benefit of being either a crossbreed or a pureblood. She was an abomination.
“I noticed you don’t have the allergy to the sun anymore.”
Katya was startled by the unexpected closeness of the deep voice. Glancing behind her, she saw Raife had moved farther into the room. He stood at the end of the couch, barely six feet away, a frown creasing his broad forehead as he studied her. She shook her head and caressed the switch that would raise the shades with her finger.
“I never did.”
Suddenly he was there, his broad palm pressed over her hand, flattening her fingers against the switch.
Katya let the heat of his body, aligned so closely behind hers, seep deeply into her. For just a moment, she let herself be reassured by his nearness, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the breadth of his chest.
“Why didn’t you say anything? Did your uncle know?”
“I was terrified of it, what it might mean. My uncle would have never understood.” She turned to him. Looking up into his face, she shook her head with a small smile. A laugh filled her breast but never escaped. “Hell, I didn’t understand it.”
Raife pressed the switch, and the shade slowly lifted with a soft mechanical buzz. The sunlight slid up the back of her legs, heating the flimsy material of her cotton pants. She held his eyes as the light continued to climb until it caressed the side of her face. His gaze roved over her as his frown deepened. Her eyes slid blissfully shut as she turned around to the embrace of the sun.
“I thought they made you this way?”
The sun-warmed air was musky in her nose as she inhaled. It felt wonderful, like she’d been kept in the dark too long. “No.”
Raife wrapped his fingers around her arms and turned her to him. “What do you mean, no?”
She lifted her lids to meet his confused gaze. His eyes glittered a dark gold. They always darkened when he was irritated. “No,” she repeated. “I’ve…needed the sun for several years now.” She’d been about sixteen and completely appalled by her craving. She’d religiously guarded the knowledge. Even from him.
Especially from him.
“I would have understood, Katya.”
Katya pulled out of his grasp and shrugged carelessly. “Would you have? Really? Your solution to my desire for you was to send me away.” She didn’t accuse him of sending her to the research facility, wasn’t positive he was responsible. Yet there was no doubt he had forcefully sent her away rather than succumb to the desire that had slowly bloomed between them all those months ago. “Was I so abhorrent to you, Raife? Was the assurance I wouldn’t be your mate worth my life? My freedom?” The expression in his eyes looked so much like hurt that it created an uncomfortable tightening in her chest, and she turned her back to him. “I guess it doesn’t make a difference what either of us wanted n
ow.”
Raife grabbed her by the arms and pulled her against him. “I was trying to protect you. I was dying. Drachon are only supposed to live about fifty years without a mate. Hell, I was dying the night I saved you twenty years ago.”
Katya shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
Those burning amber eyes slid closed for a long moment. “Drachon must mate a female to live as long as they do. That’s why the Triumvirate hunted our women. Our males can only mate Drachon females.”
“Until me.”
“I wanted you far away from me.” Raife released her and strode to the window, bracing his hands against the glass. “The night I found you in that building on the docks, you were bleeding out. You were so damn little, so trusting. I couldn’t just let you die. So…I gave you my blood.”
Katya’s mind started to whirl. The words of the doctor came back to her.
And do not waste my time with your little dragon tricks. Those were present when I acquired you.
Could his blood flowing through her at such a young age be the reason why she’d grown to be so different? Was it why she was targeted in the first place? How would they ever have known?
“After that I was drawn to you. Driven to protect you. It only got worse as you got older.” He turned and stabbed his fingers in his hair. “Then you came to my apartment that night.” His hand dropped to his chest. “You marked me. I thought it was some damn cosmic joke, a side effect from me giving you blood. If I attempted to mate you, then you would no longer be accepted by your House. And if it didn’t work, I would die and leave you with no one to protect you. I couldn’t risk it.”
That brought her back to the conversation.
“You couldn’t risk it?” Katya spun around to stare incredulously at him. Fury mounted in her, and her fingertips started to tingle. “So you made the choice. You decided the best option was to knock me out and dump me in my uncle’s lap. Where was I when you were making decisions about my life?”
