by Jacey Ward
“I didn’t know you had shacked up with the Valkyrie,” Evander replied evenly. “You’ve been avoiding telling me where to find you - “
“For good reason!” Kalen stormed, his piercing eyes trained on the doorway to the suite as if he expected Circe to return. But he knew she wasn’t coming back. He could hope for it all he wanted, but his worst fears had materialized.
Not only does she think I lied to her, she learned I’m the leader of the most dangerous Deviants in the world.
How could he explain that he didn’t want what had been bequeathed to him? That had he not inherited this from his father – were it not to carry on his family’s legacy - he never would’ve chosen this for himself. But it was the law of primogeniture and he was forced to take over the Corpus when his father had been banished into limbo for finally screwing with the wrong demon.
The third Lord of the Underworld, Severn, had little sense of humor for the pranks which the trolls played and when one had finally gone too far, Kalen’s father had taken the brunt of Severn’s wrath for not containing the childish miscreants as he had been governing.
Now, it was Kalen’s job to wrangle the deranged Deviant sub-race.
It was his heritage – it didn’t make him happy, but there was nothing he could do about it.
Until that moment, he had never apologized for it. At the end of the day, he was still one of the most powerful demons on the planet.
But I have never wanted anyone as much as I want Circe Lancaster. I can’t stop thinking about her and the noises she made while writhing beneath me as we made love. How unbelievably sexy she looked, and how sweet she tasted – her lips, her neck, her skin, her core – everywhere.
He wanted and needed to taste her again. He had never felt this way about anyone before, and it went far beyond the physical desires that made his cock twitch. It was also the conversations they had while watching TV, the way her eyes lit up when she beat him at chess, and the way she laughed whenever Kalen said something funny. It scared him how fast he was falling for her, and how he already missed her.
“Kalen, we need to stay close. Uvall could be found on a moment’s notice and we need to be together. Whatever you thought you had with the Valkyrie is clearly not working out. Why didn’t you tell her who you were?”
“Good riddance, I think, my lord!” Anderly cried, rubbing his gnarled hands together with glee. “She is not worthy of your presence.”
“Go home,” Kalen sighed at the troll. “I won’t need your services for awhile.”
Anderly stared at him in shock.
“No, sire!”
“Kalen, we’ll find another Valkyrie to work with. We have a dozen to choose from, and all can be compelled to work with you.”
“I don’t want another Valkyrie!” he snarled. “I want Circe.”
“My lord, be – “ Anderly started to say but Kalen cut him off instantly.
“Why are you still here?”
Anderly stopped speaking, dribble bubbling over his gaping lips as he stared at his master.
“Go home. Now.”
“Yes, sire.”
There was a note of such sorrow in his voice that Kalen felt a little bad, but he was tired unto death of having to deal with his subjects.
What about me? One day, do I get to put my needs ahead of all else?
“How did you even track me here?” the demon asked Evander.
“This is what you pay me for,” Evander reminded him evenly.
“I don’t pay you to track me. I pay you to track the beings I want!”
“I know you’re upset, Kalen but you have to admit that time is of the essence right now. The easiest place to find Uvall is in the Americas. Once he leaves here, he can find a million places to hide.”
Kalen didn’t need to be reminded. It was why he was there in the first place.
But he was ready to forget about Uvall and chase Circe into the Old World, to make her listen to him, whether or not she wanted to hear him.
He knew it wasn’t an option. His duties were to the Corpus, no matter how much he hated it.
There was no room for infatuations or relationships, not when the Corpus was involved.
And I’ve always known that. This is why I’ve never gotten attached before. No one is going to be there in the end when they play second fiddle to the mob.
“Kalen, you are still the client,” Evander sighed. “But you have to know what it will look like if you quit hunting him now.”
“If you’re trying to tell me how to do my job, I’m going to put a stake through your heart right now, Evander.”
The vampire threw up his hands.
“I don’t know what’s going on with you,” he snapped, his crystalline eyes flashing with annoyance. “You’ve been weird since you got here. Maybe the smog of the city is affecting your brain but you need to get your mind in order. The Deviants only need one whiff of instability and they will tear you to shreds. Any other group would happily step in and take over your rule.”
“I’d like to see them try,” Kalen laughed bitterly.
“Would you? Because the way you’re going, you’re going to get your wish!”
“What would you like me to do?” he asked Evander coldly. “Wait for you to do your job more patiently?”
“No,” the vampire growled. “I want you to keep your dick out of the local cuisine, at least until Uvall is caught.”
Kalen seethed with rage, but he also knew Evander was right. There was nothing he could do while Uvall was AWOL. If he wanted to make things right with Circe, it would have to wait until after he had things under control.
And by then, it could be too late, couldn’t it? I might never chance upon her anywhere like I did in the Theater District that night. I had a chance with her and I may have just blown it.
“Kalen, are you hearing me at all?”
“How can I not hear you?”
“Well, can you give me a sign on how to proceed at least? I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall with that stoic expression on your face.”
“We need a Valkyrie,” Kalen replied flatly and Evander grunted in frustration.
“So, you weren’t listening at all,” the investigator snapped. “I just told you – “
“I didn’t say we needed Circe Lancaster. Find me another one and we’ll sniff Uvall out as we had originally planned before Circe came around.”
He thought of Circe’s last words to him before the shit had hit the fan.
“Is it possible that he’s located trolls here and is hiding among them?”
Kalen had dismissed the idea, because he didn’t want her to know of his association with them, but what if she was right? What if Uvall was being harbored by trolls?
That’s all I fucking need. Being betrayed by my own subjects.
“Okay, good,” Evander said, excitedly, reaching for his phone for the information stored there. “Now you’re thinking.”
“Now I’m thinking,” Kalen snorted. “What are you doing?”
Evander ignored the jab and pulled up a slew of pictures, Valkyries from all over Manhattan.
“Which one should I contact?” Evander asked and Kalen shrugged, scanning the list indifferently. None of them was Circe. What did he care?
“Fine,” the PI sighed. “I’ll pick one and bring the Valkyrie here.”
Evander turned to leave but he paused from the doorway to stare at his client.
“What?” Kalen demanded, not in the mood for the vampire’s pitying look.
“Sorry about all this.”
Kalen was taken aback by the apology but before he could respond, Evander was gone, leaving him alone to his thoughts.
Dad was right about you, he told himself ruefully. A selfish leader. You almost threw away billions of dollars to chase a girl.
He knew he was beating himself up to reclaim some semblance of sanity, but finding himself alone in the suite he had come to think of as his and Circe’s, he only felt an ache and
emptiness deep within. Because Circle wasn’t just a girl.
How is this possible? How can I feel this way about someone I only just met?
Yet he feared he knew why and how; Circe may just be his soulmate. He had probably always known it – deep down. Ever since the first time he’d seen her face staring back at him from a signboard on the highway or her saffron irises boring into him from the glossy pages of an airplane magazine.
Soulmate or not, I need to remember my duty. The Corpus supersedes hurt egos and aching hearts. I will prevail and walk away from this, with or without Circe Lancaster.
He sat up and inhaled deeply, cracking bones in his neck as he rolled his massive shoulders.
I got this, he told himself.
9
Landing in Milan was one of the worst feelings to ever grip Circe’s soul, and she found herself standing at the gate without any sense of direction.
The anger had given way to a deep, pitiful sorrow as the plane glided across the Atlantic, leaving her feeling out of sorts and in a dark depression as she arrived at Milan-Malpensa Airport.
I’m in no condition to work but I can’t go home either. Arya will take one look at me and know something fucked up happened. I don’t even want to think about how that conversation would go down.
It was ridiculous really. There was nowhere she couldn’t go; the world was her oyster, and yet, she had returned to work like some kind of Stockholm Syndrome victim.
Because now I have to deal with fucking Analeigh.
She could imagine what a blast of shit she was going to get from the agent when she arrived at the Mandarin Oriental where Cassie and the others had already checked in.
Circe wasn’t even certain how to process everything that had happened in the past few days, her usually unflappable disposition a complete wreck as she worked through everything she had learned.
I slept with the most powerful and deceitful Deviant in the known underworld, she thought, shaking her head in disbelief. Usually my senses are so accurate, so well honed. How did I let this happen?
She wondered if that was a completely unfair assessment of Kalen. After all, if she hadn’t learned the truth so abruptly, would she have ever guessed who he was? He had never been anything but gentle with her.
He was always gentle…except when he wasn’t supposed to be.
A surge of heat washed over her, the memory of riding him on the soft leather sofa of the suite they had shared staining her cheeks crimson. Okay...so maybe she did know how she had let this happen.
You can’t make up that look though – the one he had in his eyes. He wanted me and I wanted him. He wasn’t using me to find Uvall or as some booty call. I think he was drawn to me – as strongly as I was drawn to him.
She wanted to smack her own face, to remind herself that he may have personally funded Uvall’s takeover attempt, one which had almost left Arya’s daughter dead in the crossfire.
He was supporting Uvall – what would Arya say if she ever found out what you did?
Circe swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to figure out what stung the most; the fact that she had involved herself with such a being or that she still wanted to be with him.
You’ll get over it, she told herself grimly, glancing over her shoulder as if she expected him to be standing behind her as he had the first time she had seen him outside the theatre.
You have to get over it.
Stay away from demons. In fact, stay away from all Deviants. Mortals are much easier to handle and manipulate.
Yet even as she thought it, Circe knew it would be a long, long time before she ever considered looking at anyone else; immortal or otherwise.
“Posso andare a prenderle l’auto, signorina?”
Circe shifted her eyes downward to stare at the balding, ill-dressed man.
“A car would be good, thank you,” she replied in Italian. “Do you have one?”
He nodded, appearing relieved that he had been approved for hire and gestured for her to follow him out toward the balmy outdoors.
“You’re Circe Lancaster, yes?” he asked and Circe felt herself tense. She peered at him suspiciously, trying to see any possible Deviant characteristics, but she couldn’t see any.
“Yes,” she replied slowly.
“I am your biggest fan,” he told her, opening the door to a rundown sedan and allowing her to slide in.
“How flattering,” she replied sincerely, slipping a pair of newly purchased sunglasses over her face.
In her haste to leave the hotel, she had only made off with her purse, leaving everything else behind.
She was still debating whether to call for everything or start fresh.
Screw that. I’m not afraid of him and I shouldn’t have to start over because he’s a liar and a snake. As soon as I settle into the hotel, I’ll call the Towers and have them send my luggage here.
“Where to, signorina?” the driver asked, and Circe realized she had been staring into nothingness for at least a minute.
“Mandarin Oriental Hotel,” she instructed. She hoped she hadn’t lost her reservation, being a day late.
I should’ve called but I was so wrapped up in Kalen’s spell, I didn’t even think about it. I didn’t think about anything.
“You are here for Fashion Week?” the kindly man asked and she nodded slowly.
“Yes,” she replied, not in the mood for conversation but she didn’t want to be rude to the old mortal man. She could only imagine how hard he worked every day just to put food on the table for his family.
What a shitty world we live in. Beings like this guy and the Brownie maid work their asses off every day for a few cents while assholes like Kalen Connor have more money than all the gods.
Instantly she berated herself.
He’s not an asshole. He’s just not the man that you thought you knew. You’re judging him without cause…but you can’t really overlook the fact of what he’s done either…
Kalen’s father, Dreyphus Connor had a horrible reputation of violence and vengeance. He had maintained his lordship of the Corpus for over half a millennium but how he had sustained such an organization was beyond the comprehension of anyone. His wit and skill were lacking and he seemed to have a huge fondness for schnapps and women. But until Severn had cast him into limbo, no one had challenged him – possibly because of his bloodthirsty attitude. He wasn’t much of a strategist, preferring to just slaughter anyone who bothered him. The Corpus hadn’t thrived under his leadership, it had stagnated.
It wasn’t until his son had taken over the Corpus that the businesses began to profit, becoming the thriving force it had been in ancient times, before the first Deviant civil war.
Kalen had intentionally kept the Corpus beneath the radar, not attracting the attention of other warring groups while he grew the empire to one of power again. He kept his own identity and face a closely guarded secret – allowing himself the freedom to travel amongst other Deviants and not often be recognized. Especially here in the Americas.
Circe had found out much about Kalen on her flight to Europe.
The driver was still prattling on in Italian but Circe was only half-listening, wondering if Kalen enjoyed the underground life he led with the more menacing races in the Deviant world.
Stop thinking about Kalen. Thank the gods that you learned the truth about him now rather than after you helped him find Uvall. You dodged a bullet.
Then why did her heart hurt so much?
It took forty minutes and cost a hundred and sixty euros to get to the hotel, but Circe gave the driver another fifty for his pleasant chatter. The gratitude in his eyes almost brought tears to hers.
“Oh, Signorina Lancaster! I will tell everyone that you are as beautiful inside as you are outside!”
Am I? Circe wondered, forcing a smile on her lips. Why do I feel so conflicted right now? Beautiful people don’t walk away from people based on folklore and innuendo, especially when that person had taken care of her
.
“Grazie.” She waved him off and made her way into the five-star building, her pulse racing in anticipation.
She glanced around at the people milling about, looking for a familiar face, but she saw no one as she ventured toward the reception desk.
“Good afternoon,” she greeted the clerk. “I had a reservation for Tuesday but I wasn’t able to fly here until today. Can you see if it’s still on the books?”
“Si, signorina – wait! Aren’t you -?”
“Circe Lancaster, si,” she replied, stifling a groan of annoyance and maintaining her smile.
“What an honor, signorina,” the girl gushed. “I think you are the most beautiful model I have ever seen! When I graduate…”
Circe desperately wanted to silence the girl and order her to look for the reservation, her body and mind exhausted but she wasn’t a complete bitch. Certainly not to an aspiring young girl anyway. It would go against everything she had ever preached. Circe Lancaster was about empowerment, not bullying.
“Thank you,” Circe murmured, pulling her glasses up to look intentionally at the computer.
“Oh!” the receptionist gasped, her face blushing pink with embarrassment. “Let me check.”
Circe watched as her small hands flew over the keyboard, a small frown forming on her lips.
“Oh, signorina, I don’t see your name here at all,” she choked as if she expected Circe to fly into a rage.
“It’s all right,” Circe said. “Any room you have will do.”
Slowly, the girl looked up to stare her in the eye, regret flooding her face.
“No, Miss Lancaster. The hotel has been booked for months for Fashion Week. I am sure you understand.”
“I do,” Circe sighed. “Thanks anyway.”
She turned and froze as Analeigh sashayed toward her, a cold, cruel smile on her face.
“Well, well, well,” the bleached blonde cooed. “Look what the cat dragged in. You really do look awful, Circe.”
“Analeigh, it’s been a long couple of days. I’m here now. Where can I get a suite in this town?”
The agent sneered out a laugh.
