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Nightshade's Bite (Blood Wars)

Page 18

by Zoe Forward


  “Who’s going to tell Isaac she needs help this time when Viktor tries to execute her?”

  Blay shrugged. “You?”

  “I’m not visiting that den of ancients again to get his number. I’ll save her from herself.”

  Blay’s phone dinged with an incoming message. “Your ride is here. Looks like you’re going home. Forget about saving her. She can take care of herself. Go home.”

  …

  Michael’s mood had passed from sour to bad several hours after he arrived at his home on the Spanish side of the Pyrenees Mountains across the border from France, a location isolated from bigger cities. Everything made him want to smash things. Bryan paced in front of the fireplace Michael had installed stone by stone a century ago. The shuffling sound of Bryan’s steel-toed boots on the stone…the way the fabric of his standard dark tactical outfit, crisp as the day it came out of the package, rubbed as his legs moved…back and forth. Back and forth. Tight turn at the end and back down the path.

  A crack of thunder rang out, loud and sudden like a gunshot. The gray sky that had looked ominous all morning unleashed. The tat-tat-tat of freezing rain pelting the windows added a new beat to the room, a rhythm out of sync with Bryan’s pacing.

  Kiera overshadowed everything else in his mind, forcing him to focus on these annoying, asynchronous rhythms and points of minutia. He sat at his desk scrolling through floor plans of Viktor’s mansion on his laptop, plans that cost a hell of a lot more in terms of life and loss than should’ve been spent. He analyzed how to put the sacrifice to good use.

  “You’re not doing this,” Bryan muttered.

  “I owe her.” Same answer he’d given the past few times Bryan questioned his idea. He checked his phone again. She hadn’t texted him. For some reason, he’d expected her to shoot him at least a good-bye before she martyred herself at the gala.

  But she shouldn’t. She’s smart. Her texts might be monitored.

  “You owe her enough to get yourself killed?” Bryan asked. “I highly doubt she wants you to help her. Come on. These are her people, not yours. She’s been among them for centuries.”

  “When Viktor goes after her, when he threatens her, then I’ll make my move. I won’t be stupid. I’ll distract them long enough to let her get away. Then I’ll get out of there.”

  Bryan paused his pacing.

  Thank fuck.

  Bryan said, “I highly doubt any of those crotchety ancient Foundry bastards will show for the party, but security will be top notch.” He moved to begin pacing again, which caused Michael to grind his teeth. “Nothing you’re doing right now makes sense. First, you skipped the raid this morning, the one you planned, which turned out to be a bust. You never delegate leadership.” He paused his trek. “Don’t get me wrong. I liked it. It’s beyond time you step away from being on the front line. But now this?”

  Seemed as if Bryan expected him to reply, but he didn’t.

  The pacing resumed. “There’s not a wolf alive who’d step within fifty miles of that event because it’s guaranteed death.”

  “I think it might be a trap, but she’s too stubborn to see it.”

  “There’s no need for you to personally go to Milan, to the single most dangerous event of the year. We can create a distraction. Something safe and done remotely. Drones might work.”

  Bryan had a point. He wasn’t dense. The protector in him wanted to remain close to her. Maybe drones? A silent scream pinged around inside his head with need to do this in person. “She thinks she’ll be safe because she’s going in disguise. She won’t listen to anyone else.”

  “You think she’ll listen to you? Why? Because she saved you?”

  “She’ll listen. I have leverage.” His face and neck felt like he’d stood too close to a fire.

  “Be straight with me. This is about way more than you owing her for saving Grace’s life and yours.” His eyes narrowed. “What the hell’s wrong with you? Are you interested in her? Do you want to fuck a leech?” Said with a buttload of derision.

  “Of course it’s not like that.” He was such a wuss, too ashamed to admit a big fat hell yes. He should be able to tell Bryan, the person he’d relied upon for decades and arguably his closest friend and ally, that he was head-fucked and heart-involved with her. Bryan had been born long after the Emancipation War but had lost both parents to vampire attacks and almost lost his own life. His hate for their kind ran as deep as Michael’s. Well, “ran” in the past sense for Michael. The lines of his hate had become smeary since he met Kiera.

  He opened his mouth. The words of admission wouldn’t come. He and Bryan had fought together, led in this new war together, and backed each other up for a long time. Bryan knew his secrets. Well, most of them. At Bryan’s impatient grunt, he realized he’d been lost in his thoughts without replying for too long.

  Bryan ran his hands down his face, pausing with both hands over his mouth. “Be reasonable. Let’s nab her before she goes to the gala.”

  “Impossible. Her people won’t talk to me. Lexan’s people won’t talk to me. No one knows where she is right now. All that adds up to kidnapping being off the table.”

  “Track her. You’re better than anyone else on the planet at finding someone. You find her and use whatever leverage you’ve got to stop her before she goes.”

  He scowled, computing odds in his head she’d listen. The results came up low percentages.

  Bryan threw up his arms. “Make me understand why this is so important. She’s a freaking leech going to a leech party. She won’t listen to you before she goes. That means whatever leverage you have is shit.”

  He released a long sigh. “I have to do this. Honor demands it.”

  Honor. The unbreakable code both of them obeyed.

  “For honor, then.” Bryan stalked forward to lean on the desk and make eye contact. “Let me go with you this time. Don’t do this solo like Paris.”

  He squeezed Bryan’s upper arm. “I can’t take you, my friend. It won’t work. One wolf in Milan is enough to trigger the alarm. Two would take it nuclear. If this goes south, I need you here to keep this place going. I need you to take over the territory and keep Phillip under control.”

  Terror washed over Bryan’s face. “No one will listen to me.”

  “They will. I need you to promise you’ll be Grace’s guardian.”

  Bryan nodded. “Promise me one thing.”

  He didn’t commit one way or the other. “What?”

  “For once, take a gun. One outfitted with the new bullets. The ones that explode with our blood when they hit.”

  “I hate guns, but all right. I’ll carry a piece.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Kiera studied Finn as he and Adric prepared electronics and reviewed the itinerary for the gala tomorrow, even though she was the only one who’d be attending. Finn’s family had gotten a raw deal, forced to live in hiding. He also hid what he was, a shifter but not werewolf. Even so, they had each other. That meant something. In fact, it meant everything.

  Family.

  She was stressed about Carol—where she was and what was happening to her—but reassured her sister was likely being a pain in the ass in captivity. There was a high chance she might find freedom before they even provided what Viktor wanted.

  Finn set down the two cell phones he’d been fiddling with. “We need to discuss the last mission and how out of control you allowed the situation to get. I recognize it started spontaneously and required in-the-moment decisions, but then you disappeared.”

  She winced. “I won’t apologize for saving a baby’s life. Putting my life on the line is a part of the commitment.”

  A tense silence descended between them.

  Finn said, “You got evac-ed to some secret werewolf hidey-hole where I couldn’t get to you. They somehow deactivated the tracker on your phone. No one woul
d tell me shit from any of our contacts, even Lexan, which meant I had to assume the worst. Communication silence for over twenty-four hours is unacceptable.”

  Adric met Finn’s gaze, rose, and left as if some silent departure order had been issued.

  Finn slapped his hand on the table. “I didn’t know if you were alive or dead. It scared the hell out of me. I believe in this cause and a lot of the other causes we’ve played a part in over the years, but you’ve never taken this many risks in the past. The disguises and playing cat-and-mouse with Viktor are dangerous enough. Then Michael Durand shows up, and you lose your bloody mind. First, the whole baby rescue ending in you almost dead and now the gala.”

  “Finn—”

  “We never agreed to die for this,” he interrupted. “Our deal was we do what we could to safely preserve their species without getting caught or killed. It’s not our mission to end the war, but to save those we can. That’s been our understanding since day one. You broke the deal. The druid had to show up again. Like he did six months ago in Catalonia when you almost got your arm blown off.”

  “How do you know he…” She dropped her head. The darkening of his glower meant he guessed her injuries had been life-threatening enough to summon Isaac. She’d confirmed.

  Softly, he asked, “Was it worse than Catalonia?”

  No reason to deny it. “There were a lot of bullet wounds, which might’ve healed, but the magic wasn’t holding. They called Vee, who did what she could. Blay went to Ehlena when traditional medicine didn’t work.” She covered her face. “My mother got involved. I know I haven’t told you much about her, but the one thing she made crystal clear was her desire to remain out of our do-good schemes. Blay even dragged Michael with him to meet her.”

  “And he survived the visit?” He pulled his chair around to sit next to her. There they rested with their own thoughts for a bit until he said, “You almost died again. For a stranger. Isaac had to show up and prove to all of us how much of a ghost you really are. To top it all off, you fell in love at the most inconvenient time with the poorest choice conceivable.” He waved a hand when she opened her mouth to voice denial. “I’ve seen you have liaisons with a few guys. None interest you like that wolf. Bloody hell, you practically ate him alive with your eyes every time he was in the same space as you, and you probably didn’t even know it. You can’t do anything the easy way. Even if both of you were the same species, he wouldn’t be an easy one to handle.”

  “Sometimes what we want and what we can have are entirely separate issues. Michael and I…okay, I admit there’s something there. But a relationship beyond passing friendship isn’t in the cards. Even magic can’t counteract the toxicity of werewolf blood. It’s inevitable I’ll taste his blood.” Admitting it out loud released a tidal wave of pain in her heart, which broke the dam on despondence.

  “You shouldn’t go tomorrow. The universe is signaling its time for you to back away. Lay low for a while. Direct the League from the shadows. Let Viktor calm down.”

  “There’s Carol.”

  “Why not ask your mother to help? It is her daughter, at least one who she likes.”

  “She probably already knows.”

  “Call her, then. Have a conversation. Tell her you hate her, but neither of you hates Carol. She’s got contacts. Work together for once. We can’t figure out where your sister is.”

  She sighed. “Then me skipping out on the gala tomorrow isn’t a question. I have to do it for Carol. I’ll go as Elise so at least I’ll have mobility around the house to get into Viktor’s office. Once we get Adric into his computer system, he can locate Carol.”

  “So that’s a no on calling your mother?”

  “I…can’t.” She hadn’t spoken to her in so long, not since a month after that night when she got sawed in half. Her mother had shown up to order she never say a word about her killing Armand and most definitely never breathe a word about Isaac. It hurt to be told to take the blame without so much as a thank-you then as much as it did now.

  He wrapped his hand around hers. “Okay. Let’s do this, but we’re doing it smart.”

  …

  The intuitive sense she needed to be somewhere crept up her neck and lodged itself inside her cranium. She despised these nudges. Probably because they always hit at inopportune moments like right now when she was almost done brushing her teeth and preparing for day sleep. Sleep probably wouldn’t happen, but the rituals at the end of an evening helped her wind down.

  For once, she wasn’t listening to the nagging feeling. She plopped into her reading chair and opened An T-urram Draoidheil. Slogging through the Gaelic druidic text exhausted her from a need to translate everything and due to its dry format. But the more she translated about magic and its origins, the more questions she had about her condition. The book wasn’t a spell book. It presented a discussion of theory and the basis of druidic magic.

  The push to go outside became a full-force frontal lobe throb.

  “Fine.” She slammed shut the book, returned it to the wall safe, and pulled on her warm robe. Five a.m. air chilled her the instant she stepped out the kitchen door. Had to be ten to twenty below freezing.

  All right. I’m out here shivering my ass off. What now?

  As if on cue, the scent of werewolf male hit her nose with a smell so sweet, so addictive, she almost crumpled to her knees. With a supportive grip on the doorframe, she scrutinized the snow-dusted lawn.

  A huge black wolf whose coat shimmered in contrast to the white snow stepped around the corner of the house. The few braided necklaces and talismans worn on Michael’s neck hung around the animal’s throat, erasing any question of the wolf’s identity. His ice-blue eyes scanned the area and locked onto her.

  Mesmerized, she couldn’t look away.

  “You shouldn’t be here.” She crossed her arms in an attempt at stern. Relief swept through her along with the realization of how much she’d suppressed her craving to see him again.

  In an instant, he transformed, something she’d never witnessed him do before. The shift from fur to smooth skin didn’t happen with movie-style bone popping sound effects and stretching skin over limbs—the concept of which grossed her out. Instead, the transformation occurred in a silent eye blink’s time, smooth and effortless. Beautiful. Her gaze dropped down his strong, naked body. Heat licked through her. She shuddered. The tattoos and scars…the raw brutality in the lines of his face… She bit her lip to suppress a moan.

  He was here, live and real. He seemed somehow taller, more dangerous and sexier than she remembered. And stunningly naked.

  His glittering, predatory stare drilled into her, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. Damn if he didn’t look triumphant.

  “What’s that look for?” she asked.

  No answer.

  “How did you find me?” she asked.

  Michael eased nearer. “It wasn’t easy, but I enjoy a challenge. Tracking has always been one of my strengths.”

  “I didn’t think I would see you again. I thought we agreed it was best to part ways.” She took a deliberate step back. A gust of wind blew her hair into her line of vision. He stepped close to tuck the strands back with one of his long fingers. The light touch against her ear sent chills down her neck.

  “You missed me. I like it.” His accent and that deep voice turned the syllables into a tangible caress she felt along her skin.

  Her breath pumped in her chest. “I never said that.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  “Michael…” She had to look away so he couldn’t read the lie in her eyes. The only option was to drive him away. Far, far away. “I didn’t miss you. You tempted me before. Things got out of hand, but I don’t want to do it again.”

  “If you’re going to lie to Viktor at the gala, you need to practice delivering lies with direct eye contact. Look at me and tell me it di
dn’t shake you to the core of your being.” He spread his hand to cradle her jaw, dominant in a way that made her want to be submissive and accept whatever he planned.

  Her mind blanked.

  “Total annihilation,” he murmured. The heat of his breath as he said the words tickled her lips. “Say it again and make me believe it.”

  She formulated the fib in her brain but couldn’t deliver it. “I can’t lie to you. It must have something to do with the magical seduction vibe you give off.”

  “You’re the only one affected,” he whispered. “Does it bother you?”

  She swallowed hard. His nearness tortured her. “Bother me? No. Tempt me? Yes. But I think you want to know if it frightens me.” She traced the tattoos on his chest with her index finger.

  He sucked in a breath.

  She compressed her lips against a smile. “I’m not scared.”

  “Scares the fuck out of me.”

  He kissed her hard. She kissed him back with equal strength.

  Her blood roared in her veins, and her body strained to get closer to him as his tongue entered her mouth, his hand shaking as it slid behind her neck.

  She broke off for a breath. They were both heaving. The extent to which she lost control around him was dangerous, but she didn’t care.

  “It’s too dangerous,” she whispered. “Finn is here. House help will see you. Please, go.” She didn’t want him to leave, but he needed to be anywhere but here.

  He swiped a tear that leaked down her face, leaving a freezing path in its wake. She hadn’t even realized she’d begun crying.

  “Take me inside. Let me love you,” he whispered.

 

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