Chaos Conspiracy

by Holly Evans

  He kissed my temple.

  “Let’s not tempt the gods,” he said a little too seriously for my tastes.

  “Do you have anything from the assassin that will allow us to find out who sent them?” Dante asked.

  He couldn’t stay still, kept looking between me and Kane.

  “I think some of their blood is still on my dagger,” I said with a frown.

  “Don’t you think it would be best if you collected that for analysis, Kane?” Dante asked.

  Kane tensed and narrowed his eyes at Dante.

  “We don’t want another assassin coming after Wren. The more information we have, the better,” Dante said.

  Kane sighed. “Where’s the dagger?”

  “My room,” I said.

  He stood without another word. Dante came and crouched in front of me, he took my hands in his and rubbed small circles over the base of my thumbs with his.

  “How are you feeling? Really feeling?” he asked gently.

  I squeezed my eyes closed and saw the dagger coming at my face.

  “Like I’m not safe here. I’m used to being the one hunting down the bad guys,” I said.

  “You don’t have to worry, I’ll be here,” Kane said as he returned with my dagger in his hand.

  “I can take care of her,” Dante growled.

  “Clearly you can’t,” Kane said.

  “I can look after myself, thank you very fucking much,” I snapped.

  It was too harsh, and I knew it, but emotions were running high, and I didn’t need their dick-swinging right then.

  “Sorry,” Dante said as he squeezed my hands.

  His warmth spread through my veins and I smiled. Kane scraped the blood off my dagger into a small vial, which he bottled and put in his witch box.

  “It will take a couple of days to get the answers from this blood. The local community is making my life difficult,” Kane ground out.

  “Do you think they’re in on whatever’s going on?” I asked.

  Kane shrugged. “Maybe, or maybe they just don’t like my bloodline. Witches are very political.”

  He’d spoken of the political bullshit he and his coven went through back in Inverness, and witches sounded insufferable.

  “I’m sure Dante’s bloodline would loosen their lips, though,” Kane said pointedly.

  Dante laughed, a harsh dry laugh.

  “The witches have no love for me. I left my coven. I am a warlock, a betrayer,” he said coldly.

  I reflexively reached out and stroked his cheek. It sounded so awful to be cast out like that by your own family. It felt a little too familiar. Even if my parents hadn’t driven me out, they had left me alone in the world. Dante looked at me with a gentle smile. He turned and brushed his lips over my inner wrist, sending a delightful shiver through me.

  “I’m staying here with Wren tonight,” Kane said as he took the seat next to me on the sofa once more.

  “I’ll find you some blankets,” Dante said, standing.

  “No need, it’s not the first time we’ve shared a bed,” Kane said with a smirk.

  Dante stiffened, his lips pressed into a thin line.

  “If you need me, Wren, shout,” he said before he went upstairs.

  I poked Kane in the ribs.

  “Don’t be a dick to him,” I said, frowning.

  Kane ran his thumb along my jawline.

  “I thought you found him to be an arrogant dick,” he said.

  I looked away. I didn’t know how I felt about Dante any more. There was a warmth to him, and his smile could make me melt.

  “Come on, we need a good night’s sleep,” Kane said.

  I allowed him to lead me back to the bedroom. I went around and triple checked the windows were closed and the door was slightly ajar, complete with a small ward Kane had made to act as an alarm system. I changed into a fresh cami and curled up in Kane’s arms, trying to keep away the feeling that this wasn’t the end of the assassination attempts.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  I woke up in Kane’s arms with my head on his chest. He looked down at me with a warm smile, and I stretched, running my feet down his calves as I did so. Dante wandered down the stairs, and I remembered where we were and what had happened the night before.

  Kane ran his fingers through my hair.

  “I’m going to work on my paints and ink today. I’ll make something to help keep you safe,” he said before he kissed my cheek, his lips lingering longer than I expected, not that I was complaining.

  We headed downstairs to find Dante glaring at his phone. Kane hadn’t put a shirt on, the smirk on his face looking like a spoilt cat. I frowned. Was he winding Dante up because he didn’t like Dante, or because he wanted something more between us? I groaned and went looking for coffee. It was far too early to be trying to untangle those knots.

  Dante handed me a fresh cup of coffee, the last one in the pot.

  “Did you sleep ok?”

  “Yea, thanks. You?” I asked.

  He shrugged.

  “I slept lightly. I won’t let anyone else hurt you,” he said, his eyes flicking to Kane.

  “I’m heading back to my place, I’ll work on the blood and the inks. I’ll catch you for dinner,” Kane said as he hugged me and kissed behind my ear, leaving a trail of goosebumps beneath his lips.

  “So, what’s the plan for the day?” I asked Dante.

  “First, I’m taking you for crepes and gelato, then we’re going to see what the Olapireta have to say. There’s a reason why everyone who’s been taken has been one of them, and they’re likely to know why that is.”

  Well, the crepes and gelato part of that sounded good.

  The gelato brought out a happy wistful side in Dante that I liked. He relaxed and smiled as he enjoyed the simple joy of the gelato. We didn’t touch on work until the gelato was finished. It was an unspoken rule that the food was sacred and not to be sullied by work.

  “We’ll begin with Darijo’s father and go from there,” Dante said.

  I held back the sigh I desperately wanted to give. This plan sounded positively hellish. It was going to be verbal sparring with creepy assholes who wanted both me and Dante dead.

  The drive over to the beautiful house was quick and painless, the views over the ocean taking the edge off my nerves. Dante knocked on the door, only to have it slammed in his face when the man saw who it was. Dante knocked again and wedged his foot inside the doorway so the man couldn’t slam it again, not that it stopped him from trying.

  “Every single one of the missing people is Olapireta. You’re going to tell me why,” Dante said.

  “Cambion scum!” the man spat before he slammed the door again, this time on Dante’s foot.

  Dante didn’t acknowledge the pain that must have caused. Instead, he forced the door open and stepped inside. He towered over the Olapireta man.

  “That was very rude. I am working with the Council to try and bring your son home,” Dante said coldly.

  I leaned against the doorway, trying to look cool and nonchalant, like I belonged.

  “You clearly know something. And you care about your son, else you wouldn’t have let the Council know he’d gone missing,” I said.

  “We have many enemies. We are but a small faction. We don’t have the spare people to hunt our missing people down,” the man said stiffly.

  His hands were trembling, and he kept shifting his weight from foot to foot as his eyes were glued on Dante. I wasn’t sure if he was furious or terrified. I supposed it could have been a bit of both.

  “Narrow it down,” Dante said.

  “If I could do that, I would have done so by now,” the man snapped.

  “Maybe it’s an inside job and they killed the people themselves, maybe this is a really shitty attempt at covering that up,” I said.

  “How dare you!?” the man shouted.

  “Look at it from our point of view,” I pushed.

  “The Council was supposed to send us strong, pure wa
rriors, not a fucking cambion and his whore,” the man snarled.

  Dante pinned the man against the wall by his throat, the man’s feet dangling uselessly.

  “Never call her that again,” Dante said in a harsh whisper.

  The man had turned white, the deeply unpleasant and familiar smell of urine filled the space. Dante dropped him like a hot potato before he stepped back, his lip curled in disgust.

  “I have no answers for you,” the man said between gasps for air.

  Dante gestured out to the car. “We’re done here. We’ll try one of the other families.”

  Oh, what fun that sounded. There had to be a better way. The people were creepy and unpleasant, but they clearly weren’t warriors.

  “Does this usually work?” I asked Dante once we were back in the car.

  “Sometimes.”

  “Is this just an excuse to hurt some Olapireta?”

  He exhaled slowly through his nose and pulled the car onto the side of the road. A storm was rolling in over the turbulent ocean, and it felt all too fitting in that moment. I watched the deep purple-grey clouds on the horizon as they crept closer and the waves whipped themselves into a frenzy, crashing onto the rocks below us.

  “I’m sorry, Wren, you deserve better from me. I allowed my past and my emotions to get the better of me,” he said quietly.

  “It happens to all of us,” I said gently as I placed my hand on his.

  “I can’t bear to see you hurt again,” he said as he cupped my face in his other hand, his eyes soft.

  I laughed.

  “I’m a hack-and-slash girl; if we’re going to work together, you’re going to have to get used to me being hurt,” I said with a smile.

  He caressed my cheek, and I allowed my eyes to half close as I felt his bloodsong wrap around me, speaking of safety and comfort.

  “You can’t wrap me in cotton wool,” I said in barely more than a whisper.

  He frowned.

  “Then perhaps we’ll get you some robes and a mask,” he said, his face twisted into a grin.

  “I’ll settle for a badass sword,” I said with an equal grin.

  “That can be arranged…”

  “It has to set on fire or something and have an awesome name.”

  “I have people who could make you such a thing.”

  “Now you’re teasing me. I could never afford that.”

  “You wouldn’t have to pay a penny.”

  I wrinkled my nose and looked away.

  “I won’t be bought,” I said softly.

  He pulled away from me, his bloodsong taking on a sharp note that cut through me.

  “I wasn’t trying to buy you, Wren,” he said firmly.

  I frowned. “I’m sorry, that was a really dickish thing to say. I have no idea what I’m doing, I’m sorry,” I said as I got out of the car and leaned on the low stone wall looking out over the ocean.

  Well, this was a fine mess.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Dante came and sat down on the stone wall next to me. He ran his fingertips over the palm of my hand, and all was forgiven. I smiled at him, feeling like we’d known each other for a century. It was so natural to have that tactility between us. His bloodsong had settled into his usual symphony, and I relaxed.

  “We’re clearly missing something here. What are the chances that it’s actually one of the purists killing the people themselves?” I asked.

  “Slim. They’re too devoted to their bloodlines, they wouldn’t risk losing good breeding stock like that. If they were going to kill anyone, it would be Saeda.”

  I paced back and forth for a moment, trying to piece it all together in my head. The purist thing was clearly important, and if they didn’t do it themselves, then it was an enemy of theirs.

  “Who are their enemies in the area?”

  “Anything with infernal blood, a number of different types of witches, anyone with impure breeding,” Dante said.

  “So, what’s that, seventy percent of the local supernal population?” I said as I sat back down on the wall.

  “Those with infernal blood will be at the top of the list. We’re deemed to be the greatest threat. Followed by some types of witches, then the impure.”

  “Ok, so can we track down the infernal beings in the area? Surely there aren’t that many of them? What type of witches do they despise?”

  “There are no registered infernal beings in the area, so if it is one of my kind, then they’re hidden somewhere. As to witches, I will have to pull up the list.”

  “They have a list?” I said with a laugh.

  He grinned back at me.

  “They have every type of supernal ranked according to purity and value within the world. Give me five minutes to dig out the list, it’s buried in my documents,” he said as he pulled out his phone.

  My phone buzzed with a phonecall from Kane. Dante tensed the moment he heard it.

  “Kane?”

  “Yea,” I said.

  I answered the phone and walked a little distance away to have some semblance of manners and privacy.

  “I’m having a lot of trouble tracking down what I need for these inks,” Kane said.

  “Sorry to hear that. I’d help if I could.”

  “Well, it’s odd. It feels as though the community is blocking me. They’re vibrating with something.”

  “Any idea what?”

  “No, I haven’t caught so much as a whisper. I asked around about those fae-vampires, the cult, and Olapireta and got nothin’. Even the hedgewitches were silent, and they’re usually full of gossip and information.”

  I chewed on my bottom lip. Something big was going on around here.

  “Well, what could cause the whole community to shut down like this?”

  “Fear. My money’s on the cult. There’s something really weird going on there. It could be a particularly powerful coven, though; it wouldn’t be the first time they’ve managed to silence the surrounding area.”

  “Do you know if any of the covens in the area have had a run-in with the Olapireta?”

  Kane went silent for a moment. I heard a shuffling of papers.

  “Actually, one has. They’re about forty minutes outside of the city, up in the hills. The Shadow Moon Coven. I don’t know what their magic type is, which is weird. They have to register themselves with the Council and the witch Council.”

  “Thanks! That could be the lead we need!”

  Kane laughed, a soft tinkling sound full of affection. Or I could have been projecting my hopes.

  “No worries. I don’t think I’ll be able to get my inks together tonight to protect you, though. I’ll have to stay with you tonight.”

  “I’m sure we’ll survive,” I teased.

  “But will Dante?”

  “If you stop poking at him.”

  “Hey, it’s not like he’s a fucking angel here.”

  “Whatever, we’ll talk later. Take care,” I said.

  “Take care, Wren, I’ll see you later.”

  I practically bounded over to Dante. The coven could be the lead we were so desperately looking for. We might finally have made some progress on the investigation.

  “Kane said there’s a coven about forty minutes outside of the city that had a run-in with the Olapireta,” I said with a grin.

  Dante looked up from his phone.

  “Did he give you a name?”

  “Er, the Shadow Moon Coven,” I said, hoping I’d remembered that right.

  Dante frowned at his phone before he grinned.

  “Yes, I have a record here. They filed a formal complaint to get the Olapireta moved out of the area. They have a few incidents here - they claim the Olapireta tried to burn their coven house down. There are also mentioned of attempted stabbings and a successful poisoning. Sounds like they have an axe to grind.”

  I grinned. “So we’re going to head over there and interrogate them?”

  Dante smiled. “I think that’s the best course of action. Well done,
and thank Kane for me.”

  “He has his uses,” I said with a smile.

  Dante laughed. “As do you.”

  When we got into the car, I asked, “So, if the Council take me on full time, will I get a cool badge or something?”

  “If they take you on truly full-time, you’ll get a tattoo or a brand,” Dante said, focusing on his GPS.

  That sounded horrifying. I didn’t want to be branded like cattle. The full-time work sounded good, with the money and the expense account, but being marked by the Council was never going to happen.

  “Are you branded?” I asked quietly.

  Dante smirked at me. “No, they wouldn’t dare.”

  “Would I have to be branded if I wanted steady work from them?”

  “No, they have long-standing mercenaries they bring in.”

  “Why do they brand them, then?”

  He shrugged. “It’s like the enforcers. You can lose a badge, but a tattoo or a brand is a permanent mark of your role in the world.”

  I shuddered.

  “No, thanks.”

  THIRTY-SIX

  Forty minutes was a long time to sit in the car without talking. The views were stunning, but there was only so long I could look out over the ocean.

  “Kane said it was weird this coven hasn’t registered its type of magic,” I said.

  Dante glanced at me.

  “They must have strong connections to be able to pull that off. The Council and witch Council are both very strict about their registration of witches, particularly after the Prague incident. I don’t believe knowing the type of magic that coven had would have been able to stop them, but bureaucrats love paperwork. It makes them feel safe.”

  “Isn’t it suspicious, though? That they haven’t declared their magic type?”

  “Yes, very.”

  “So, what’s your magic type?”

  Dante smirked at me.

  “Infernal. My mother had hoped that I would inherit her life magic like my brother, but my father’s side came through much stronger with me. If I’d have had life magic, then I would have been able to continue with the coven business. Life magic is a very profitable field. Infernal magic, however, is only destructive. It has no use outside of heavy combat.”