by Jami Gray
And if you’re wrong? that insidious voice whispered. Hells knew, she made the mistake of trusting her instincts before. Now, with the weight of Taliesin on her shoulders, screwing up was not an option. Exhaustion and worry tugged at her. She held so little information on him. If she made the wrong choice the fallout would be nothing short of disastrous. Still…
“No, pet, no threats.” For once, her endearment held no mocking bite. “Go, check on Zayn.”
The air around Darius calmed as he studied her. Thoughts raced over his face, too fast to be recognized, leaving behind his familiar, arrogant mask. “We’re not finished.”
Now, who was issuing threats? His over-bearing tone scraped along her waning patience but she refused to give in to the need to snarl back. “There’s nothing to finish.”
His only answer was a slow, decadent grin.
She fought back the rise of color as heat that had nothing to do with anger, simmered in her veins.
He turned away, gave the others a slight nod, and strode out of the kitchen.
After Darius headed upstairs, Natasha turned to Gavin. “Before we get into what brought you to my door at such an hour, I need to take care of a few things.”
He looked beyond her to the devastated remains of her living room. “A cleanup crew?”
“Top of my list,” she murmured. “I’ll make a call upstairs.”
“At least we don’t have to worry about nosy neighbors.” Raine crossed the kitchen and headed toward what remained of the living room window.
“No, the wards would’ve dampened the sound.” Which reminded her, she’d have to reestablish the damaged house wards. She shifted the items on her mental to-do list as she started for the stairs.
“Natasha, we’ll need someplace private to talk.”
The heavy weight of seriousness in Gavin’s comment stopped her. Turning, she considered his somber expression. “There’s a library on the other side of the house. It’s far enough away from here to ensure privacy.”
And her wards would still be intact to let her know if her current houseguest wandered too close.
He nodded and trailed after Raine.
Natasha turned back to the stairs. Her hand reached for the railing and she was surprised to see a small tremor.
“I’m sorry about your home.”
Carys’s soft sympathy created an unwanted pressure behind Natasha’s eyes. Damn, she must be more tired than she thought. Delicately clearing her throat, she said, “It’s merely a structure, it can be rebuilt.”
A truth, though the ache in her heart seemed as raw as the splintered wood and shattered glass marring the room behind her. Needing distance and solitude, if only for the few moments necessary to get dressed, she continued up the stairs, spine straight.
Once in her room, she collapsed into a chair and pulled her feet up under her. For a moment, she soaked in the silence. When her wards vibrated against her skin, indicating Darius’s departure, she blew out a soft breath, some of her tension bleeding from her shoulders.
The fading whispers of Darius’s blood gathered on the edge of her thoughts. Not strong enough to be heard clearly, but enough to tease. She let them linger, knowing that, given enough time, the pieces would fall into place. He unsettled her on more than one level, and right now she couldn’t afford the distraction. His leaving gave her a chance to find her footing in the deceptive landscape taking shape.
She needed to call Jamie in for cleanup, but did she really want another person to invade her home? Not that she believed Jamie had anything to do with what happened tonight, but someone did. Between Sullivan’s and Cleo’s death, the discontented whispers in her house would grow into rumblings. If Cleo’s death got out, too many of the Kyn would see only what they were meant to see—Natasha’s slipping grip on her people.
Perhaps, it would be best if she took Cleo’s body to the Side, just until she could get a lead on who was behind the deaths.
What could that child possibly have known to be considered such a threat? To send a Half-Bound demon was over kill. If they sent it solely after Natasha, that she could understand. But, Cleo? It made no sense.
She gave a soft, inelegant snort. As if attributing common sense to whoever was behind this was an option. Look at who they choose to Bind. Jared was such a young demon, not known for traveling with the older crowd. The mistake of not fully naming him showed a lack of age. Combined with the fact, that Jared knew the individual who set the Binding in place, pointed to someone he knew. But it contradicted the amount of strength behind the Binding.
Could someone be using a younger demon as a patsy? Maybe. While it didn’t ring true with what little she knew of Darius or Zayn, it didn’t mean it wouldn’t hold true for someone else. The power behind the summoner had been strong, stronger than she had expected. And that amount of power could only come with age. A great deal of age. Maybe paranoia or past experiences, or both, were raising their pesky heads, but she was more inclined to think whoever the puppet master was, he—or she—was not one of the Northwest Kyn.
The dull sounds of a hammer echoed from downstairs, dragging her out of her uselessly spinning thoughts. Gavin and Raine must have found the toolshed in the back. She rubbed a hand over her face, the grit of dust scraping over her skin. Shower first, then she’d take Cleo’s body to the Side. Afterward, she’d deal with whatever Gavin brought to her door.
Upstairs in the room he claimed as his own, Darius crossed into the Side, both man and demon happy to leave his human form behind. The urges the Half-Bound raised still churned under his skin, leaving a dangerous craving behind. Here, where the Amanusa could straddle the human and Kyn worlds, he could travel between Natasha’s home and Zayn’s hotel unseen, while allowing his more primal nature a brief respite from civility’s demands.
Besides, the early morning darkness still chased the dawn, its win a few hours away. Time enough to touch base with Zayn, especially since he owed the Councilman a report on the Wraith’s meeting.
Had that only been a few hours ago?
Between the meeting, Sullivan’s murder, and the Half-Bound demon, time had warped. Too much, too soon, and no time to process the ramifications. However, one thing was crystal clear. The one hunting the Northwest had their next target. Natasha.
Normally he wouldn’t have budged at Natasha’s demand to leave, but considering the three individuals staying with her, his concern at a second strike was diminished. Rising in its place was another worry. Had whoever targeted the Northwest decided to turn their attention to the Council’s representative?
Unlike Natasha, he knew exactly where Zayn’s loyalties lay. Yet those loyalties wouldn’t matter if the one behind the current string of bodies managed to add Zayn’s to the pile of corpses littering the Northwest. If a Council member was murdered, there would be no more need for games. The Northwest Kyn would be eliminated. Possible problems solved.
Using the strange pathways between realms shortened his trip considerably. He put his thoughts on pause as he approached the street where Zayn’s hotel stood. He took his time to scan the surrounding area from his hidden position. Quiet reigned.
Satisfied that he was alone, Darius donned his human skin and stepped out into the heavy shadows under a burnt-out streetlight. Within minutes, he was through the deserted lobby and in the elevator. It took him to the top floor, where he made a bee-line to one of the two doors lining the expansive hall.
Zayn opened the door before Darius could knock. He stood aside, allowing Darius entry. Darius strode down the elegantly appointed hall and into a warmly lit living room. Behind him the door closed with the sound of the security bolt latching into place.
Leave it to Zayn to get the best suite at a hotel. The fire in the far corner snapped and curled over the logs in a quiet frenzy, flanked by comfortably elegant chairs book-ending a small table.
“You’ve been busy.” The dry observation came from behind him, even as Zayn slipped past and headed to the built-in bar, a c
up in hand.
Darius settled into one of the two chairs facing the fireplace. “A bit early, isn’t it?”
A cup, heat wafting from it, appeared over his shoulder as Zayn handed it to him. “It’s tea, you idiot.” The Councilman took the other chair, casually propping his foot on his knee as he took a sip of his own. “Although I wouldn’t mind something stronger, the personalities here are…” He hesitated, obviously searching for the right description. “…challenging.”
“You expected open arms?” Darius took a sip, letting Zayn’s unruffled presence chase the lingering worry from his bones. The taste and scent of the strong, black tea was comforting in its familiarity.
A wry twist of lips echoed the spark in Zayn’s gold eyes. “Not quite.”
“Good.” Darius stretched out his legs and balanced his cup on his stomach. “When did you talk to Carys Iver?”
A low hum escaped Zayn and his long fingers rose to rub the bridge of his nose. “About the time you were meeting the Wraiths. Why?”
Darius studied him. “Whatever you said sent her to Mulcahy’s place tonight. She ran into Raine.” If he didn’t know the other man so well, Darius might have missed the tiny wince.
“Perhaps I mishandled things,” Zayn muttered.
Wasn’t this interesting? Mister Suave and Sophisticated managed to strike out with the Amazonian redhead. “You losing your touch?”
Zayn grunted. “After dealing with those close-mouthed bastards, Vidis and Cheveyo, my approach was harsher than planned.”
Raising his cup, Darius hid his grin at Zayn’s grumpy response.
Not one to wallow in frustration, Zayn lightened his tone. “You’d think these chiefs would have more respect for their Council members. Instead, they’re almost as arrogant as we are.”
“And you like that?”
“Admire it, actually.” Zayn set his cup on the small table perched between them. “They’re going to need every iota of arrogance and confidence in the face of what’s coming. Unlike the Council, the Northwest seems prepared to do what they must to protect their people. Some of my associates could learn a thing or two from them.”
There was no missing the disgust and contempt underlying the words. “You could always step down, Zayn,” Darius said. Only their centuries-long friendship allowed him the ability to state such a treasonous suggestion. One did not step down from the Council.
“No, I made a promise. I’ll see it through.” The weight of the promise was reflected in his serious tone and implacable expression.
“Still determined to convince the Northwest Kyn you’re just another Council blowhard?” Darius’s lack of patience with the devious subterfuge was evident in his harsh question.
Unperturbed, Zayn answered, “It’s a necessary evil. For now.”
Silently, Darius disagreed, but maybe after he explained what happened tonight, he could change Zayn’s mind. Studying the set lines on his companion’s face, he revised that opinion. Zayn was nothing if not stubborn. “Your presence seems to have prompted someone into action.”
Zayn arched an eyebrow. “Mine? Are you certain it’s not yours?”
“Not this time. Kevin Sullivan was killed tonight.”
Zayn frowned in thought. The expression was familiar and an indication that he was sifting through his mental files. “One of the Wraiths and a vocal upstart in Natasha’s court.” He tilted his head. “Did she finally get tired of his mouth?”
This time it was Darius’s turn to frown. “That’s what someone wants everyone to think.”
“You don’t believe it.” A statement, not a question.
Darius shook his head. “No.” Killing one of her own for disobedience was not out of the realm of possibility, but that spell wrapped like ivy around Sullivan? No, that belonged to something older, darker. Besides, Natasha had a point. After seeing what was left of the girl and dealing with the Half-Bound demon, Darius felt chances were damn good that Sullivan’s heart would be missing as well. A very brutal, heavy-handed way to cover one’s tracks.
Besides Natasha would never stoop to a Binding. Such soulless slavery revealed a narcissistic need for power. She might be many things, but narcissistic was not one of them. Plus, there was a wisp of familiarity in that spell. The problem was, he couldn’t quite catch it. And that was worrisome.
“Why not?” Zayn steepled his fingers under his chin, his gaze direct, calculating. When Darius remained silent, he pushed. “According to all accounts, Sullivan was a pompous pain in the ass. Natasha is the epitome of ruthless practicality and well versed in the art of manipulation. Convincing you of her innocence?” He answered his own question with a Gallic shrug. “Much like Sullivan’s death, it would be far from problematic.”
“Exactly.” Ignoring his companion’s not-so-subtle dig at his fascination with the woman, Darius set his almost empty cup aside and pushed to his feet, the need to prowl propelling him forward. “Sullivan was a nothing more than a pesky nuisance. Natasha doesn’t believe in short-term solutions. His death might shut him up, but it would only serve to strengthen his complaints. Natasha isn’t stupid. She wouldn’t give him that much influence.”
“Or you’re giving her too much credit.”
Darius stilled and glared at his oldest friend. “If Sullivan was the only new development, I might consider it, but he’s not.” Unlike the Northwest leaders, he and Zayn had access to some very disturbing information, information but no proof. “We have another problem.”
Zayn straightened and leaned forward, his attention caught by Darius’s seriousness. “We have many problems. Which one are you worried about?”
“The one behind Sullivan’s death? He killed again. This time, Sullivan’s lover.”
“How do you know they’re one and the same?”
“Because the Half-Bound demon ate both their hearts.”
“Half-Bound?” Zayn’s olive-tone complexion paled, his lips thinned, but a baleful spark blurred the red rings in his gold irises. “Start talking.” The command came out in a near hiss.
“We were attacked.” Keeping the details short and sweet, Darius related all that occurred at Natasha’s home. “It took both Natasha and I to banish it. At one point, the summoner tried to take Natasha.”
Shock widened Zayn’s eyes then they narrowed with speculation. “How do you know?”
And here was where Darius put his trust in a centuries-old friendship and something much older, because his answer could cause all sorts of backlash. Backlash not even their well-hidden family tie could block, because Zayn wasn’t just his friend, he was also Darius’s brother. Which meant tonight’s actions could ripple farther than intended. “We shared blood.”
With a muttered curse, Zayn surged to his feet. “What the hell are you thinking, Darius?” He dragged his hands through his hair, the gold strands glinting under the flickering firelight. “Such a tie could destroy all our carefully laid plans.”
“What would you have me do?” Darius snarled, going toe to toe with the last of his family. “Let a Half-Bound demon escape? Once we destroyed his bindings, there was no choice but to combine our abilities to ensure he couldn’t escape. If we didn’t, and he got loose, we would have more than the humans on our asses. A possessed mortal or Kyn would bring attention even the Council wouldn’t want.”
Zayn spun away, his shoulders a solid line. “And blithely handing the reigning power of the Northwest Kyn an inside track into my plans is what we need?”
“The blood tie is already fading, Zayn. If she didn’t make the connection by now, she won’t.” He didn’t blink at the small lie. Natasha had picked up something, but how much remained a mystery. However, as he watched his brother fight for composure, Darius knew it could work in their favor. “You wanted an ally.”
Zayn spun around. “An ally, not a damn psychic Peeping Tom, Darius.” He blew out a hard breath and dragged a hand over his face, wiping away his expression. “And the summoner?”
“Far from a no
vice. But something bothers me.”
“What?”
“They didn’t name Jared’s maternal line. It gave us a loophole.” Darius paused, letting Zayn process. “It’s a mistake someone with that much power shouldn’t have made.”
They both fell quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally Zayn broke the silence. “What are you thinking?”
Darius’s stomach tightened. He didn’t want to put his suspicions into words. It was too much like tempting fate. Yet, no matter how he twisted and turned the facts, he couldn’t escape it. “I think we’re dealing with more than one person.”
Zayn grimaced, blowing out a hard breath. “Yeah, me, too.” He dropped his head. “Fuck me.”
Chapter Eighteen
Natasha returned from her trip to the Side with Cleo’s body to find a sheet of plywood covering the hole in her living room. She spoke briefly to Jamie and Fahd who were working on cleaning up the remaining debris. “Sullivan’s house?”
“Clean,” Fahd answered, his dark eyes steady, his anger from hours earlier tucked neatly away. “He’s on a prolonged business trip, should his neighbors ask.”
She nodded. “Jamie, reschedule my morning meetings, please. I won’t be in until the afternoon.”
“Will do.” Jamie’s gaze slid behind her and narrowed.
“Natasha?”
She turned her head at Gavin’s voice.
He stood near the back hall leading to the library. “When you’re ready.”
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
He gave her a short nod, turned, and walked away.
“What the hell is going on, Natasha?”
Jamie’s question brought Natasha’s head back around. He and Fahd stood in front of her, Fahd’s attention on Gavin’s retreating back, Jamie’s focus solely on her.
“That, my dear, is what I’m about to find out.”
