by Jami Gray
Standing before it, she took a deep breath. Time to see just how close a friend Ryan considered her. Raising her hands to shoulder height, she kept her palms facing the door. Magic pulsed under her hands, like a living curtain between her skin and the wood. Ryan’s ward would recognize friend from foe. She whispered a phrase, felt the magic pause, then curl around her in an unbreakable grip. It nipped along her skin, testing her intentions. The pressure increased, like red-hot pins piercing nerve endings, until she gritted her teeth in an effort to quell her reaction.
Her demon didn’t like the unsettling sensation. It prowled inside her, swiping at the invasion and straining her control. Damn, it had been a long day. Finally, about the time she reconsidered letting her more chaotic nature loose, the magic flared then disappeared.
Blowing out a breath, she dropped her hands, the muscles in her arms trembling. Grasping the knob, she turned it and pushed the door in. The air quivered then stilled. Nice to know Ryan liked her.
Stepping inside, she shut the door softly behind her. Thanks to the drawn shutters, not even moonlight penetrated the shrouded room. Not that darkness ever proved a challenge for demons. Too much of their time was spent in the inky world. Yet, she still flicked on the desk lamp, letting the soft light spill over the desk.
Traces of Ryan’s life lay scattered over the surface. A neat pile of files lay clustered near the phone. Some report on Taliesin letterhead held center position. Red ink in his masculine handwriting marked up the pages. A handful of pens lay in disarray around it, and a half full glass still sat to the side. The flat computer screen was dark, and a book rested face down, jacket cover spread next to it.
She ran a finger along the bent spine, tracing the title and well-known name of the king of horror. She never understood why Ryan choose this particular genre. Reading should be an escape. And their world held more nightmares than even this particular human could convey.
Everything indicated a man who would be returning shortly to finish his business. The incongruous scene hurt. Ryan wouldn’t be back.
Slowly moving around the desk, she sank into the leather chair. Faint traces of his familiar scent drifted to her, the smell tightening her throat. Suck it up, my dear. Now is not when you want to lose focus.
There wasn’t much time before her next appointment. Decided, she began to go through each of the desk drawers. When nothing interesting appeared, she swiveled the chair, studying the office.
Big windows, currently hidden behind the shutters, would overlook the wildness crouched in his backyard, offering glimpses of the lake just beyond. Two padded chairs and a couch faced off with the desk, the wall behind graced with a painting portraying a land Ryan hadn’t seen in years. The last two walls held row after row of bookshelves. The man loved his books and souvenirs. Objects, some valuable on the art market, others valuable only to the one who collected them, lay scattered among the shelves.
She studied each shelf. Would it be in plain sight? Ryan once told her hiding things in the open was much better security than hiding them in lockboxes. Deviousness might be key to the Amanusa, but it didn’t mean they were the only ones with a monopoly on it. It was one of the things, which made Ryan so successful with Taliesin. He could out think most of the criminal element that comprised their company’s bread and butter. Who better to catch a thief, than one of the best? Had he chosen to work toward different goals, the Council would have been wise to be concerned.
The house shifted, the subtle creaks yanking her head up and around. Her ears strained, trying to ensure it was just the house, and not an unexpected visitor. The wards would provide a warning, but she proved they could be breached. When silence resettled, she rose, turned her back to the door, and went back to scanning the shelves.
A photo box caught her eye. A delicate sketch surrounded by dried violets and a faded, frayed ribbon. Hard to tell what color it had been in this light, but she recognized the face in the sketch. The sharp chin, the up-tilted eyes, dark hair a rippling curtain of warm mahogany, and a knowing smile. Catriona, Ryan’s younger, and only, sister. Raine McCord’s mother.
Picking up the decorative box, Natasha studied the feminine face captured by a loving hand. Probably Ryan’s. On the boat trip from Europe to here, she caught him sketching a small boy scrambling like a monkey up one of the tall masts. After they settled in Oregon, she couldn’t remember him ever sketching again. Yet, this was proof he had done it at least once. The paper was modern, not the heavy vellum of the past.
“He did that just before I was born.” Raine’s voice was bland, quiet. “Mom and I made that for him before…”
So, not the house settling. Natasha turned, careful to keep her face empty.
No matter how much the girl tried, Raine couldn’t completely hide the depth of pain at losing her mother to a human’s twisted experiments. It lurked under everything she did, every choice she made. Had Natasha been more inclined toward emotional reactions, she would have hurt for the young woman standing before her. But pain created the warrior and the warrior was what would be needed to survive in their world.
Yet, right now, perhaps Natasha could offer some small comfort to Ryan’s last, surviving family. “She was well loved.”
Those silver eyes didn’t blink, just stared a stare very reminiscent of the one common to big cats. Natasha held that considering gaze, unimpressed. What lay under her skin was more than a match for what lay under Raine’s—regardless of whatever quirks science or genetics left the girl.
“Why are you here, Natasha?”
“Perhaps I should ask you the same thing,” Natasha murmured. “Where’s your shadow?”
Amusement actually cracked through the blank mask. “Gavin’s out overturning some rocks.” The brief amusement faded. “What are you looking for?”
“Answers.”
Raine crossed her arms over her chest, her dark brows lowering. “And you think those are here? In Mulcahy’s office?”
“Not think,” Natasha said, her fingers sliding along the edges of the photo box. “They are. It’s just a matter of finding them.”
“Finding what?”
Natasha shook her head. How blind had Raine’s anger toward her uncle kept her? Time to rip those pesky blinders off. Her fingertips skimmed over a rough spot. “Proof.” Heading back to the desk, she ignored the younger woman’s frowning gaze. “You never answered my question last night.” Angling the box under the desk lamp, Natasha noticed the small, almost imperceptible break she felt.
“It’s been a damn long day.” Raine came closer and leaned her hands on the other side of the desk, watching her movements. “Which question?”
Fingers stilling, Natasha lifted her head, trapping Raine’s attention. “If Gavin becomes captain, what keeps him from using you to further himself?”
Those silver eyes began to burn with an eerie incandescence. “Don’t. You aren’t going to drive a wedge between Gavin and me, Natasha. Worse than you have tried and failed. Miserably.”
Ah well, not Natasha’s best effort, granted, but it was worth a shot. Changing tactics she asked, “Did you ever wonder how and why your uncle created the Wraiths?”
Raine frowned. “Is this a trick question?”
Dear hells, no wonder the girl infuriated Ryan so often. “No, McCord, this is not a trick question.” Natasha went back to her study of the photo box.
“The Wraiths were created to keep the big, bad shit from tearing a bloody swath through the human world and making the presence of the Kyn known. So long as the humans can’t prove how dangerous we are, they can’t justify wiping us out.”
Natasha slid the edge of her nail into the small break and pried. “If that’s the case, then why don’t you answer to the Council?”
“I thought that was who Mulcahy answered to.”
Raine’s answer actually made Natasha laugh and raise her head. “Did you meet your uncle, child? He never answered to anyone.”
Thunderclouds drifted over Raine�
��s face. “Don’t call me a child.” The demand held the edge of a growl.
“Then stop acting like one.” Turing her attention back to the box, Natasha lifted a section of the frame, exposing a hollow opening. The lamplight danced across something wedged inside. Satisfaction flared and she smiled, tilting the box and giving it a soft shake until the hidden object landed in her palm. Setting the box down, she traced a fingertip over the etched metal as memories crowding close. Gently pushing them back, she cupped the object and held her hand out to Raine. “Do you recognize this?”
Raine leaned closer, studying the ring. “No, should I?”
“Unless you remember your bedtime stories, no.” Natasha held the silver ring up, letting light dance across it. “Have you ever heard of the Sarielian Order?”
Raine shook her head.
“Think of them as the Wraiths’ predecessors. Before the Kyn came to America, the European Houses needed a neutral group to police their own, to keep the worst of us out of sight of the humans. Too many times we failed to stop those who believed humans were dispensable. The burning of Alexandria’s Library, the Inquisition, the Crusades, each time the humans rose in revolt, we lost more and more of ours. One very astute and clever leader decided if we were to survive these mortal purges, we needed a group to operate outside of politics and moral boundaries to ensure we didn’t offer the humans ready-made excuses to wipe us out. The Council agreed and the Sarielian Order was established.”
“So, what? Mulcahy created the Wraiths based on this Order?”
Quick little cat, but Raine still missed the bigger picture. “Yes, he did.”
“Mulcahy was part of the Order?” Confusion made her voice sharp. Before Natasha could answer, she kept going. “No, no way.”
Mulcahy had been more than part of the Order, but that wasn’t something Natasha planned on sharing just yet. Curious as to what was flying around in Raine’s head, Natasha leaned back in her chair and asked, “Why do you find that so hard to believe?”
Raine’s head lifted, her chin jutting obstinately. “You just said he’d never answer to anyone. If something like this Order existed, it would answer to the Council.”
Maybe, maybe not. Some of the things Ryan shared with Natasha made her wonder how accurate that assumption was. “You don’t believe such a group could remain outside of the Council’s influence?”
Raine snorted. “Please, if the Order is just a higher version of the Wraiths, there’s no way they aren’t being used by the Council. Unless they have someone like Mulcahy in charge.”
“I’m not sure if your cynicism is a blessing or a curse.” Natasha held the ring out to Raine. “Take it. It’s yours.”
Straightening, Raine studied Natasha with a strange intensity.
Natasha let her, in no way shaken by the intense regard. Scarier than Raine tried to shake Natasha’s composure with no luck. Raine had many years to go before she’d be up to par.
“What game are you playing now?”
“I’m not playing any games.” Not right now. This was too important. Natasha needed this young woman for her plans to succeed.
Raine snatched the ring from her. “Bullshit.” With that exclamation, she threw herself into one of the chairs facing the desk. One hand tapped on the armrest, the other clenched around Ryan’s ring. “Why are you suddenly so…” She searched for the right word. “…amendable? I’m nothing more than a pain in your ass.”
Oh, how true, but Natasha had moves to make and promises to keep. “You will always be a pain in my ass, Raine. That doesn’t mean I don’t find you useful.” She crossed her legs and smoothed out a non-existent wrinkle, a small moment to recollect herself. “How much of your uncle’s history do you know?”
Those silver eyes narrowed and Raine’s fingers stilled. “Obviously not as much as you.”
Natasha dipped her head in acknowledgement. “True, but what I can tell you is that the ring you hold changes our current situation.”
Raine looked down and opened her hand. The heavy silver lay against her palm. “How?”
Time to throw the girl into the deep end. “The current Council is highly divided on the whether or not to reveal our presence to the humans.”
Raine’s head lifted. “That’s not big news.”
“No, but what you don’t know is that the same faction that wants to keep us hidden, has another goal. This one, not publicly known, would turn their own people against them. Thanks to the intermingling of bloodlines among the Kyn, there are very few purebloods left. Most of the younger generations are mixed blood. Yet their blood is not the only thing that has changed, so has their magic. There is a small, but very dangerous group hidden among the Council who would rather see these mixed bloods wiped out, even if it means temporarily aligning with humans.”
Something too fast to read flashed over Raine’s face, but she schooled her features before Natasha could identify it. “They destroy the mixed bloods and there will be no more Kyn.”
And no more you or Gavin. “I agree. Yet, this faction is firmly convinced the only way for the Kyn to maintain their status is to remain as pure as possible.”
“No,” Raine sneered. “That’s not why they want to wipe us out. If you’re going to tell me stories, Natasha, tell them right.”
Hiding her smile at Raine’s disgust and unintentional slip, Natasha leaned forward. “Fine. If you don’t think it’s for racial purity, why do you think they want to wipe out mixed bloods?” Let’s see how deep of a grasp Raine really had on what was happening around her.
“They’re scared.” Cold, cutting, and utterly ruthless, Raine’s answer hit the bull’s-eye.
This time Natasha let her smile free. “You’re damned right they’re scared. Mixed blood means new abilities, ones they have no idea how to control or defend against.” Time to go for blood. “Abilities like yours and Gavin’s.”
Raine’s face paled. Her mouth opened.
Natasha held up her hand, cutting Raine off. “Stop.” Did the girl really think she hadn’t guessed what was going on between her and Gavin? Granted, Natasha might not have all the details, but those two shared something unique and powerful—an ability Natasha had only seen once before. Now she needed to make sure it stayed on her side of the upcoming fight. “I don’t want details.” Not yet. Best to let Raine think she and her lover still had some secrets. “We have bigger challenges coming our way. First, we need a name, one we can connect to this Council faction and Brent Sutler.”
“We have someone on that.”
“Then they need to move faster.” Natasha ignored the streak of fury on Raine’s face at her snapped command. “In the meantime, perhaps we can use Zayn to help garner that information from another direction.”
“Why? Because he’s with this Order?”
“Perhaps.”
“He works for the Council, Natasha. If we do find a Council connection, no way in hell can we guarantee he’ll hand over the bastard who killed Mulcahy. We have nothing to indicate he’s even on our side of this damn mess.”
Natasha rose from her chair and came around the desk until she stood in front of Raine. She plucked the ring out of Raine’s hand and held in front of the girl’s face. “This tells me he just might be. If he has a connection to the Order, this will mean something. Something above the Council’s games. At one time Ryan was one of his. Ryan stepping down to run the Northwest Kyn doesn’t change that fact.”
Understanding brought color to Raine’s face. “You’re putting a hell of a lot of stock in a supposed friendship. That could be dangerous.” First-hand knowledge swam behind her words.
“Alexi was a bitch, darling.” Natasha put the ring back in Raine’s hand. It belonged to her now.
Raine’s head jerked up at the caviler words.
“What? Did you think I blamed you for tearing out her throat?” Natasha laughed when she caught the confirmation in Raine’s expression. Her laughter faded and her more primal nature prowled forward, wanting
to ensure Raine understood something. “She betrayed me. She betrayed Ryan. She betrayed the Wraiths. What you did to her was much more merciful than what I would have done.” Her words reverberated with the unvarnished truth. “I do not tolerate betrayal.”
“If you’re wrong about Zayn, you could be signing all our death warrants, because neither does the Council.” Raine’s warning was soft, but honed with a cutting edge.
“There are those on the Council who want to see us destroyed, have since we began.”
“You think someone at their level is behind his death?”
Natasha nodded. “Ryan was a threat to their authority.”
Raine tilted her head. “If that’s so, then why did they allow Mulcahy to leave in the first place? Hell, why would they allow him to leave the Order? You can’t tell me they couldn’t have stopped him at any time. Yet, they just let him walk away?”
“Yes.” The one word was all Natasha would give Raine. Rehashing history wouldn’t help now. Besides there were parts she didn’t want to go into with Raine, or anyone for that matter. Natasha stepped back and leaned against the desk’s edge. “Officially the Council doesn’t control the Sarielian Order. However, that doesn’t mean certain members aren’t…tied to individual Council seats.”
“You think Zayn’s working with someone.” Raine narrowed her eyes. “Who?”
The girl was quick. “I don’t know. Yet. What I do know is the Council is scrutinizing us. They need a way inside the Northwest and with Ryan’s death created fractures they can use. The Wraiths are their best shot to gain influence. If the Council falls to those who would turn on their own, the Northwest is their strongest opposition. Destroying us now, leaves them uncontested.” And everything she and Ryan had worked for would be gone, her promises nothing but dust in the graves of those she failed to protect. “We unveil which Council member is behind Ryan’s murder, we’ll gain our own foothold within their ranks.”
“So which side does Zayn fall on?”
Natasha shook her head. “I don’t know. He could be here to find out who’s behind Ryan’s death or he could be the one behind it. However, someone is trying sidetracked us.”
