by Jami Gray
Gavin still lounged on the small sofa, but Carys had picked one of the two chairs on the opposite side.
Natasha waved a hand toward the empty chair next to Carys and made her way across lush carpet to resume her seat on the sofa. “Darius, have a seat.”
Ignoring her silent direction, Darius took the seat next to Natasha. He leaned back and propped an ankle on his knee, before stretching his arm along the back of the sofa, the picture of unconcerned interest. Natasha caught his raised eyebrow, but refused to frown, knowing he would view it as a challenge.
It didn’t stop his lips from curving into a small smile. He turned to Gavin. “Finally decided to share the reason behind your unexpected visit last night?”
“I’m more than happy to share,” Gavin drawled, sarcasm coating every syllable. “But let’s make sure we’re the only ones taking part in the conversation.” He looked at Carys, who dipped her chin just before the skin-ruffling magic of a silencing spell settled into place.
Sitting so close, Natasha caught the razor-sharp curiosity lurking under Darius’s arrogant amusement. Still his voice remained relaxed. “You’ve found something.”
Gavin’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Does Cinar International ring any bells?”
Although his position didn’t change, the air around Darius did. Natasha felt his tension crest even as the red brightened around the arctic blue of his pupils. Oh yes, Darius recognized the name.
“A large European umbrella corporation, it houses numerous companies around the world.” His words were clipped.
“It also makes some rather sizable donations to various ventures as well.” Carys pulled Darius’s attention away from Gavin. “Large anonymous donations, such as the one to a local business known as Biovita.”
There was no discernible reaction from Darius as Carys dangled the name in front of him. Buried deep within Natasha something loosened a fraction, but it didn’t stop her from continuing with their combined attack. “Biovita employed a human geneticist, Brant Sutler.”
Still no visible reaction from Darius.
“When Dmitri went after Vidis, he used a drug to turn our wolves feral,” Gavin added. “Sutler is the scientist who created that drug.”
Now that did get a reaction. When feral werewolves began attacking humans, Division demanded a name. Natasha gave them one, Sebastian Reiner, Vidis’s Third, and Dmitri’s puppet. The same man who just happened to die in the explosion that killed Mulcahy.
The Council, however, was given what truth the Northwest could prove, Vidis’s brother, Dmitri had manipulated the pack’s Third into playing Trojan Horse for a spell that killed the Northwest’s leader. Only she and the other Northwest heads knew there was someone much more powerful and well hidden behind Dmitri. The same individual they now hunted.
Darius scowled, and his hand near her shoulder curled into a fist. “Sutler was working with Dmitri.” A statement not a question. “The amount of money necessary to fund drug development is not something Dmitri Vidis would have access to.”
Gavin didn’t move. “No, it’s not.”
Darius’s gaze narrowed, and his jaw flexed while the air around him shimmered, a sure sign of volatile emotions.
Natasha refused to allow her demon to rise in answer. Best they sit and watch, because the next few minutes would determine who would leave this room alive.
“You think Cinar was backing Dmitri,” Darius gritted out between clenched teeth.
“Cinar is a very interesting corporation.” Carys’s cool voice wove through the rising tension. “The companies gathered beneath it are both human and Kyn. We find it strange that the only board member names we could uncover were human.”
Natasha noted, for future reference, the ease with which the Fey leader lied.
Gavin leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Even more interesting, the individual who gave me their names is currently in a coma, fighting for his life against a spell.” His attention focused on Darius with cold calculation. “Since I’m not the most trusting person, I’m wondering what names Cinar buried. You say you’re here to get justice for Mulcahy’s death, so I’m going to ask you one more time, does Cinar International ring any bells?”
Under his skin, Darius’s beast clawed and gouged for freedom. Gritting his teeth, he fought through the blind fury burning like a phosphorous candle, dripping corrosive rage against the chains holding his beast in check. Had he heard of the godsdamned company? Blighted hells, his brother sat on the board as a silent partner, along with two other very dangerous Kyn.
A fact he be willing to bet the three facing him already knew. But that wasn’t what was pissing him off. No, his murderous fury could be laid directly at the feet of Leopold DiMarcco and Corwin Westbrooke, because those two bastards were setting not only Zayn up, but by extension, Darius. Not something he’d soon forget. Or forgive.
Under his rage, an unfamiliar emotion awoke, apprehension. Had DiMarcco or Westbrooke discovered the carefully laid plans he and Zayn had in place, or were they simply taking advantage of an available out? Were they working together or was it just one of them? Questions screamed through Darius, almost drowning out the rising silence of the three watching him. Knowing if he didn’t answer, blood, probably his, would spill, he finally managed to growl, “Yeah, it rings a damn big bell.”
The tension dropped fractionally and he could have sworn Natasha let out a breath of relief. Under Gavin’s unforgiving countenance, a flicker of satisfaction was there and gone, a moment so brief, Darius would’ve missed it if he’d blinked.
Yet Gavin’s voice remained even, “Your turn to share.”
Yes, it was, because with this connection the game entered a whole new level. He’d bring Zayn up to speed later. For now, he would do what he always did, cover their asses and ensure their survival. “Three Kyn sit on the board—Leopold DiMarcco, Corwin Westbrooke, and Zayn Aimeric. I can vouch for Zayn, but not the other two.”
Gavin looked at Carys. Next to Darius, Natasha tapped her fingers on the edge of the couch.
When Gavin turned back to him, Darius wasn’t surprised. “I thought the Order didn’t serve the Council.”
“The Order was founded to serve as a check to the Council, and a way to ensure the Kyn’s survival.” Words uttered decades ago, their weight unchanged. “It doesn’t.”
“Do you?”
“No.” The denial snapped out. He curled his hand tight, feeling the metal of his ring cut into his skin. The need to hunt and stalk those who would willingly sacrifice him and his brother stripped away the civilized version of his voice, leaving a sonorous growl in its wake. “I serve the Kyn.”
Natasha sat inches from him. “That may be, pet, but there is one other you serve.”
He turned to her, knowing his beast ranged around him, moving like a mirage over his human skin.
Yet, she faced him with a regal serenity. “There is something between you and Zayn, something you don’t want others to know. If you want us to trust you, we’ll need more than your say-so. Those under my protection have learned too well how little weight words hold.”
No, his word alone wouldn’t be enough. Not for these Kyn. The cost of trusting those around them had already proven too high. However, his cost for trusting them could be more than he was willing to pay. “What do you want, Natasha?”
Those fingers stilled their dance against the armrest. She held his gaze with an unsettling intensity. “The truth behind the game you and Zayn are playing. Give us a reason to follow Ryan’s lead and trust you.”
“This isn’t a game.” He abruptly stood up from the couch.
Gavin mirrored him, coming to his feet with a predatory grace, revealing the warrior.
Darius sighed. “You’re being hunted by powers you can’t comprehend, and those stalking you won’t stop until nothing is left of what Mulcahy created.” Darius deliberately stared at Gavin. “Not the Wraiths, not his niece, not one vestige of the Northwest Kyn. You want to
survive, you’re going to need not just me, but Zayn as well.”
A low growl escaped Gavin, but before he could step into Darius’s space, Natasha was there. “Enough!”
It would have been laughable to expect such a small female to hold apart two formidable men, but what lived inside Natasha had obviously reached its limits. The form wavering over her body held no vestige of humanity. The temperature in the room dropped noticeably. Power so cold it burned, whipped around both men.
She faced Darius, crimson snaking through indigo. “The Council has no idea what exists in my territory, nor do they fully understand what it means that the Northwest is now mine and not Ryan’s. If they think we are less because of Ryan’s death, they will soon learn very differently.”
“Will they?” Frustration rode Darius hard. “You have more rats than a sinking ship. You think what’s happened here in the last year is coincidence? Everyone has a weakness. You know that better than most. The Northwest is no exception. Ryan’s was his niece, Vidis’s is his pack, Cheveyo’s is his past, and yours is your arrogance. The Council may be fracturing, but those on it are there for a reason.”
Fury thinned down Natasha’s face, creating something inhumanly beautiful and terrifying.
He leaned closer, determined to drive home the danger circling her and her people. “It may have taken years to set the board, but I am here to let you know, you are behind in this game.” He spat the last word out. “And if you don’t readjust your strategies, you’ll be wiped off the board.”
“What, exactly, makes you and Zayn valuable to us?” Directly behind him, Carys’s frigid question was accompanied by the kiss of metal against his neck.
Still staring into Natasha’s eyes, he smiled then abruptly straightened. His hand snapped out, trapping Carys’s wrist in his unforgiving grip. Her reflexes were quick enough, but not enough to avoid him slicing his neck along her blade. He pulled Carys’s hand and the bloodstained blade forward, dragging Carys against his spine, his own blade lying in silent warning against her kidney.
“He and I are all that stands between you and the Council.” Without looking away from Natasha, Darius exerted pressure against the bones of Carys’s wrist, drawing a sharp hiss of pain as he shoved the Fey’s blade closer to Natasha. “Taste the blood, Natasha. Tell me if what I’ve said is a lie.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Natasha felt the moment Gavin decided to act and stepped back, blocking his movement. “No, Gavin, stand down.” She eyed Darius who still held Carys’s wrist with casual ease, his blood smeared across the blade held between them. His other hand was hidden behind him, but since Carys remained still and the only blood scenting the air was his, Natasha was sure he held an equally sharp threat against Carys.
She studied the demon in front of her, recognizing his challenge for what it was. Blood could lie, if the one offering was stronger than the one taking. “Let her go, Darius. If you want me to take the secrets from your blood, that paltry offering won’t work.”
“Paltry?”
“Truth exists in gifts given, not taken.” She flicked her fingers at the bloodied blade. “That’s not a gift.”
The arctic blue darkened with a disconcerting mix of hunger and heat, but he lifted his fingers, one by one, from Carys’s wrist.
The redhead yanked her hand and blade free, then stepped back. “I could always carve a bigger hole for you, Natasha.”
“You could try,” Darius murmured, amusement lacing each word, even as he continued to hold Natasha’s gaze.
“Thank you for the offer, Carys, but let’s hold off just yet.” Natasha closed the distance between her and Darius, until only inches separated them. She placed her palm against his chest, feeling the heavy beat of his heart. Her gaze drifted over him. Vicious want and calculated control warred in the stark lines of his face and vibrating muscles. This close, she couldn’t miss the bloody line along his neck or escape his savory scent. The temptation to delve into his secrets was almost stronger than common sense. “So, pet, willing to let me play with your secrets?”
Darius captured her hand, lifting it from his chest, and brought it to his mouth. He nipped her palm, the tiny pain triggering a deeper hunger. “If I’m to bare my neck to your tender teeth, Natasha, I expect the same consideration.”
His words had her fingers involuntarily curling around his. “Why?”
Unlike her, he wouldn’t gain access to her innermost thoughts and needs through her blood.
“Consider it a formal acknowledgement of alliance.”
His answer reminded her of an ancient custom, one not much practiced in the last few centuries. At one time, the six demon bloodlines, or Bloods, warred amongst themselves on a continual basis. Only when the humans had turned their attention to decimating the Kyn populations, did they stop and refocus their combined attention to outside threats. During those wars, ruling members of each Blood would forge necessary alliances with blood exchanges, combining the gifts of two bloodlines together to defeat a shared enemy.
To combine Darius’s line of Death with her own Secrets could create an unprecedented advantage. Darius’s strength rivaled hers. If she was honest, perhaps even surpassed hers. Together they could not only stand, but possibly triumph over the Council. Especially if Darius brought in the Sarielian Order.
The temptation was vast. Such an alliance would be a game changer. Only a fool would dismiss such a powerful tool. And she was far from a fool. “If the Blood of Death proves true, and our enemy is the same, the Blood of Secrets shall stand beside them.”
“Then shall we?” Dark satisfaction hummed through his voice.
Behind her, Gavin protested, “Natasha, I don’t like this.”
Delicately pulling her hand free, she stepped back from Darius and turned to face Gavin. “I don’t expect you to, however, if you and Carys would please make sure we aren’t interrupted before we finish, I’d appreciate it.”
Gavin shot a dark look over her head at Darius then glanced back at her. “You’re going to the Side.”
Not a real question, but she answered. “Yes. This is best done in our true forms.” Besides, she and her demon were too intrigued by Darius. Sharing and tasting his blood, even for something as practical as an alliance, could turn so very intimate. The Side would offer the buffer of privacy. Whatever existed between her and the male behind her was not something she wanted up for consideration by others.
“Take Jamie with you, then.”
She was already shaking her head. “No. This will remain between the four of us and no one else.” She held Gavin’s jade gaze, letting her skin slip enough to impress her determination. “Until we know who is ours and who isn’t, it’s best to keep this quiet.”
He ran a hand through his hair, turned away, paced a few steps, then came back. “And if he decides to kill you over there? Then what?”
Amused by his concern, she smiled. “Take his heart.”
Natasha shed her human skin as she made her way through the barrier between the mortal realm and the Side. The magical barrier between the worlds resembled a mist-shrouded cloudbank. Darius moved silently alongside her, his form towering above hers, a study of inky shadows and mysteries.
The barrier thinned, bits and pieces of a room coming into focus. A few more steps and the barrier disappeared, leaving behind a room draped in exotic colors and lush furnishings. Hedonistic comfort oozed from the low-slung couches covered in plush piles of pillows clustered around an enormous fireplace. Large windows covered one side of the room, letting in red-tinted light. Trees, not seen in the mortal realm, reached for the sky. Their green, so deep as to be mistaken for black, draped the branches, while thick trunks sank into a carpet of vegetation. The landscape of the Side was a far cry from the human’s version of Hell.
“Your private rooms?” Darius deep voice stroked along her spine.
“If I find out you’re lying, it’s best no one sees us together, pet.” As she walked across the room, she waved
a hand at the windows. Curtains fell with a quiet whisper. Stopping near the fireplace, she turned to face Darius. “Shall we?”
He stalked toward her, muscles flowing with mesmerizing strength under obsidian skin, the disconcerting blue eyes focused on her, his bone white horns rising from silky strands of black. He stopped in front of her and traced a delicate line from temple to chin with one white claw. “So eager to start?”
She titled her head back, careful not to scrape her horns against his. Such intimacy was generally reserved for lovers, unless contact was made in the heat of battle. She set both hands against his chest, her black tip claws curling in just enough to prick skin. “On your knees, Darius.” The husky edge to her voice wasn’t deliberate, just a byproduct of the image her words provoked.
His smile held the temptation of every fantasy she entertained. He sank to his knees with masculine grace, never taking his gaze from hers.
She stole a moment to bask in the feminine thrill it gave her to have this very lethal, very powerful male in such a position. She stepped in, using her hands on his shoulders for balance. His heat seeped through skin and bone, sinking to touch parts of her long ignored. Desire rose, churning brighter with each breath. This strange, intense intimacy was why she hadn’t wanted to do this in front of Gavin and Carys.
His hands circled her waist, providing another anchor, another point of heat. His breath blew softly across her chest, causing her body to waken and yearn. Her claws tightened and released, testing the muscles under her touch.
He watched her with the predatory focus of a hunter. Heat, hunger, need, all swirled together. Her breath sped up as he leaned in and pressed a kiss against her thundering heart. Pulling back, he held her gaze then tilted his head to the side, offering his neck.
The bloody line left by Carys offered a temptation Natasha refused to ignore. A purr escaped as she leaned in and dragged her tongue in a delicate rasp along the wound. His deep, vibrating groan made her claws tighten, even as she licked her lips and lifted her head. The spice of his blood tingled, awakening a need for more.
