by Jami Gray
His eyes lightened and she knew he caught that thought. His voice, however, remained serious. “You said he was alive. Why can’t Vidis help him heal?”
“He’s in a coma,” Carys answered.
His forehead furrowed in confusion. “A coma?”
“A spell induced coma,” she clarified.
His confusion cleared, leaving behind intent focus. “What kind of spell?”
“Considering how old the magic our enemies tend to play with is, perhaps you should go with Gavin to answer that question.” Natasha gave the order wrapped in silky suggestion.
Darius dipped head. “At your service.”
His courtesy extended only as long as it served his purposes. She forced her smile into less revealing, more natural lines.
“Natasha—”
She cut off Gavin’s protest with a raised hand. “Go, both of you. We need whatever we can get from Axel before he dies. A link we can use. Otherwise we’re back to fishing in an endless hole.”
Gavin shut his mouth, but his jaw continued to flex. Finally, he said, “Are you coming?”
“Jamie’s here, waiting. Besides, you’ll only fit Darius into your toy.” Gavin’s sleek little two-seater didn’t leave much room for passengers. “It’s probably best you two leave now. You’ll make better time.”
Carys dropped the silencing spell, and the disconcerting feeling accompanying her magic drifted away. The two men took their leave, and the tension lingering in their wake dissipated.
Only after the sound of the front door closing, did Carys turn to Natasha. “Are you sure about this? Allowing Darius to work with us, tying him so close to you, it’s dangerous.”
Natasha moved about the room, turning off the lights. “More dangerous for him than us.” Stopping next the fireplace, she studied Carys. “Worried about me?”
Carys gave a delicate snort and clicked off the lamp next to her, leaving the two women bathed in firelight. “Worried about the blood connection you two share.” She moved to the edge of the sofa and leaned against the arm. “How much does he see, Natasha?”
Sincere, but cautious concern underlay her question, and it snuck past most of Natasha’s guards to brush up against the aching spot of Ryan’s loss. Strangely touched, Natasha turned away, her answer equally serious. “Only what I want him to.”
For a moment or two silence waited between them, then Carys asked the unexpected, “What’s his bloodline?”
Once again Carys proved Ryan had chosen his replacement well. Eventually Natasha would get use to Carys’s insightful questions. For now, it wouldn’t hurt to share. Just in case things went horribly wrong. “Death.”
Carys closed the distance between them, her hand curling around Natasha’s arm. “What have you done, Natasha?”
The fear and worry warring over the other woman’s face made Natasha wonder just how much information Carys held on the Amanusa.
“What was needed, Carys.” Natasha gently pulled free of Carys’s hold. “Death may be final, but Secrets—those can reap long lasting and far reaching damage.”
“Only if you’re alive to use them.”
“He’s had more than enough chances to kill me.” Natasha waved a hand along her body. “I’m still here, alive and well.”
“Only because you fascinate him.” Carys’s teeth worried her bottom lip. “You and I both know a man’s need to shag a woman only goes so far.”
The blunt remark surprised a laugh from Natasha. “I don’t think seducing him is necessary, though I appreciate the backhanded compliment.”
Carys rolled her eyes. “Are you planning on blackmailing him to keep him in line? Because, if so, I’ve got some serious concerns with that approach.”
“No, I don’t think I’ll have to resort to that either.” Well, at least not yet. Down the road? Hard to say. She had no doubts if it came down to the Northwest or his brother, the Northwest would lose. Unless she managed to change his priorities. Hmmm, something to consider.
“Why?” Carys’s blunt question snapped Natasha out of her musings. “Because he was Ryan’s inside man on the Council?”
Partially, but—“Because without us he can’t get what he wants.”
“Which is?”
Natasha smiled at Carys. “Revenge.”
Carys considered her closely. “And what do you get?”
Ah, such a pleasure to work with another intelligent female. “Power, darling.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
With Carys at her side, Natasha stepped outside, locking Ryan’s door behind her. Niall emerged from the shadowed recesses of the porch and stopped at Carys’s side.
In the drive, Jamie stood in the faintly lit opening between the driver’s door and the car, waiting.
“I’ll see you at Vidis’s?” Carys murmured.
Natasha nodded and navigated her way down the steps.
As she closed the distance between her and Jamie, he leaned his arms on the roof of the car. “Osborn called while you were in your meeting. He wants you to call him back as soon as you can.”
Her pulse spiked. Maybe they finally caught a break. She stopped, turned, and called out, “Carys.”
The redhead had reached the end of the steps. She and Niall both stopped at her voice. “Yes?”
“I may be a few minutes late.”
“Everything all right?”
“A call from Division, one I can’t ignore. You’ll inform the others?”
Carys nodded.
Satisfied, Natasha turned back and walked around to the door Jamie held open for her. She slipped into the interior, the door closing behind her with a soft thump. Within moments, Jamie got into the driver’s seat and retrieved her cell phone.
He handed it back to her. “Do you want me to wait until you finish your conversation before we head out?”
She took the phone. “Please.” Reception was sometimes spotty and this was not a phone call she wanted to miss. She pulled up the last incoming call and hit the screen to call it back.
Jamie watched her.
She raised a questioning eyebrow, the sound of the phone ringing through a mild distraction.
“Am I allowed to stay for this?”
Considering the not so hidden whine of petulance sneaking out of his question, she guessed someone wasn’t finished pouting about their earlier conversation. However, it wasn’t worth the impending argument just to prove a point. “Are you sure you can handle it?”
He opened his mouth to answer, but Osborn’s greeting had her raising a hand to cut Jaime short. “Chief Osborn, you rang?”
Sandpaper rough, Osborn’s voice came over the line. “Good evening, Ms. Bertoi, I wanted to call you with an update regarding our conversation on Wednesday.”
Had that only been two days ago? Time flies when you’re being hunted. “You’ve found something in regards to Sutler?”
“Actually we’ve found him.”
She straightened, her gaze flying to Jamie’s. Considering his avid attention, he was hearing every word. “Any possibility of letting one of our investigators interview him?” Or at least get close enough to eliminate him.
“Only if they can talk to the dead.”
Her fingers tightened on the phone. “Where did you find him?”
“Some kayakers found a piece of him at a marine park south of Columbia City.”
“Piece?”
“Partial torso.”
“Not to impugn your investigation, but are you certain it’s Brant Sutler?” A partial torso wouldn’t give anyone much to go on.
“We’re still waiting on the DNA test to confirm, but he had a distinctive birthmark just below his shoulder blade. It’s a match.”
“That’s…unfortunate. Any ideas on how he came to be in such a state?”
“The coroner is still trying to determine what weapon was used.” The careful blankness in Osborn’s voice made her suspect the damage to the torso could probably be attributed to teeth and claws versus the s
moother edge of a blade. That did not bode well for the Kyn or their carefully constructed veil of secrecy.
“How bad is it?”
“Bad.” He paused. “Even worse if any other parts turn up with the same marks. Right now, it’s a tossup between teeth or claws.”
“Could be a killer salmon,” Jamie muttered too low for Osborn to hear.
She frowned, but made a mental note to warn Gavin. Perhaps together they could ensure a different story emerged. “Wolves, bears, even cougars have been spotted in some areas, Mr. Osborn.”
A harsh grunt that could only be mistaken for a laugh with a great deal of imagination sounded in her ear. “Wolves? Like the one that tore through the 88 Ivories a few weeks back?” He let out a hard breath. “Dammit, Natasha.”
The level of exhaustion and stress in those two words tugged at her. She could empathize. “Could you keep me posted on what is determined to be the cause of death? I’d be happy to offer Taliesin’s services if needed.”
“We’ll see.”
His tone indicated she would wait quite a while for that particular call. “Were you able to find any other connections to Sutler?”
“Maybe, hang on.” The sound of movement came over the line, objects or papers being rifled through. “Does the name Cleo James mean anything to you?”
For a moment, her mind blanked in shock. Not the name she expected to hear, not even close. “Cleo James?”
Jamie straightened to attention, red flashing in his eyes before they narrowed.
“Yeah, seems Sutler deleted some online conversations with her just before he disappeared. We’ve been trying to locate her, but she seems to be out of town.”
“It sounds familiar.” Excitement and rage mixed into a pulse pounding high. It took a great deal of control to keep her voice casual. “Could I do some research and let you know in the morning?”
“Sure. If I’m not in, just leave me a message, I’ll call you back.”
“Will do. Thank you.”
They rang off. Cradling the phone in her lap she raised her head, her gaze colliding with Jamie’s.
“Why do you look so happy?” he asked.
“Cleo James is our key to unraveling this mess.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Cleo James? Seriously?”
“You know her?”
He snorted. “If you’re male and making your way up the corporate ladder, she’d come sniffing around. Fun to flirt with, but not my first choice for stimulating conversation.”
Interesting. “She was Sullivan’s girlfriend.”
“Sullivan’s girlfriend was messaging Sutler? Why?” He paused, his eyes widened. “Wait, you don’t think Sullivan was behind the whole mess with the werewolves?”
“No.” Although she suspected that was exactly what someone wanted her to think. “Sullivan’s death was a rather useless attempt to discredit my authority. No, someone is tying up loose ends.”
“And if we don’t find Cleo, she’ll be next.” He looked away, thinking. “According to Osborn, she’s in the wind. It’s going to be hard to find her.”
“Not as hard as you think,” she murmured.
Jamie turned back to her, watching closely. “You know where she is, don’t you?”
Natasha sighed. “She’s dead.”
Shock and something else ran over his face, to quick to read. “What? When?”
“This morning.”
His mouth tightened. “Are you trying to tell me Cleo attacked you? Are you shitting me? There’s no way she could have done the damage Fahd and I cleaned up.”
Stuck in the car with Jamie, there’s no way he’d drop it until she gave him the whole story. She kept it as short as possible. “That wasn’t Cleo. That was Jared Pick.”
Jamie rubbed the back of his neck. “Who’s Jared Pick?”
“The Half-Bound demon who tore apart not only my living room, but Cleo and Sullivan.”
He dropped his hand and blew out a hard breath. “What the hell is going on?”
She leaned forward and patted his shoulder. “I told you, we’re being hunted.”
“By?”
“The Council, dear.” She sat back, crossed her legs and smoothed her skirt. “Unfortunately, they’ve decided to use someone close to us to assist them.”
Jamie blinked at her, his face a tad pale. Not an unusual reaction considering her answer. “Who?”
She gave him a small smile. “The answer to that is at Vidis’s, so we should be on our way.”
He shook his head and turned in his seat. He pulled his seatbelt into place then started the car. “Who, or what, is at Vidis’s?” He turned the car and around and headed down the drive.
She looked out into the darkness pressing against the windows. “Axel Kayser.”
As Gavin drove toward Warrick Vidis’s home, night settled over the landscape, replacing the multitude of lights with a thick curtain of trees.
Neither man spoke during the ride, leaving a rather strained silence behind.
Gavin slowed then turned onto a winding, gravel road, snaking deeper into the surrounding forest.
Darius winced at the sounds of rocks pinging against the low-slung car’s undercarriage. He turned from his contemplation of the passing scenery just in time to catch a similar expression crossing Gavin’s face.
“This road isn’t doing your ride any favors,” Darius drawled.
Gavin glanced at him before returning to the road in front of him. “Yeah, but trying to get Vidis to live closer to town is pointless. Besides it’d be like setting the big, bad wolf on a town full of little pigs.”
Darius chuckled. Lights broke through the night, first one, then another, until Gavin pulled to a stop in front of a breath-taking home.
Too big to be labeled a cabin, the two-story, wood-and-glass structure blended in with its surroundings. The expansive front porch wrapped all the way across. As Gavin shut off the engine, a small figure stepped out to lean over the railing. Light bounced off short, spiky blonde hair, even as an arm rose in a casual wave.
Darius exited the car and followed Gavin around and up the stairs.
“Hey, Gavin.” Xander Cade, Vidis’s mate, waited for them. Behind her, the heavy wooden door stood partially open, allowing a bit of light to spill across the porch.
“Hey, Xander. Everyone make it back okay?”
“For now. Cheveyo sent Chayton to one of the bedrooms upstairs to crash. Holding on to Axel during the flight, just about did him in.” She slid a glance at the open door then back at them. “Thanks for sending Raine and Cassandra.”
Gavin gave a small nod. “Things okay?”
The little blonde wolf grimaced. “It doesn’t look good. Every time Cheveyo or Cassandra make some progress, Axel slips further away.” She was tense and pale. Even the delicate tattoo on her face couldn’t hide the strain of the night’s activities. She turned her attention to Darius, her eyes taking on a lupine glow. “Why is he here?”
Darius hid his amusement when Gavin shifted a bit, as if to protect him. “Natasha wants him here.”
Xander continued to stare. “This isn’t his territory.”
“No, but it is mine.” Warrick Vidis stepped out onto the porch then continued until he could wrap his arms around his mate. “If Natasha wants him here, he may stay.”
Darius didn’t mistake Vidis’s unassuming appearance as an indicator of his strength. Standing close to six foot, with shaggy brown hair and brown eyes, the Northwest alpha hid his power well.
Darius dipped his head in acknowledgement. “Natasha felt I might be of help with what ails your wolf.”
“Did she?” Vidis murmured.
“Natasha and Carys are on their way in, they should be here soon,” Gavin said.
Xander shook her head. “Carys will, but Natasha’s running late. She took a call from Division.”
“About?” Gavin asked.
Xander shrugged. “No idea.”
Warrick’s shoulders hunched, his eye
s closed, and Xander let out a low hiss. In front of him, Gavin stiffened.
Before Darius could ask any questions, all three turned and rushed inside. He followed in their wake, closing the door behind him. He made his way into a rather impressive living room, complete with an enormous fireplace framed in river stone. A large, three-piece leather sectional was shoved back, creating an empty space on the hardwood floor in front of fireplace. Cheveyo sat cross-legged on one side of a still form Darius assumed was Axel. Raine mimicked him on the other.
Axel’s head rested in the lap of an older woman, whose white hair hung in two incongruous braids. Such a style belonged to someone much younger, but it somehow worked.
Even as Gavin crouched behind Raine, careful not to touch her, Vidis and Xander settled in between Cheveyo and the older woman. Drawing closer, Darius crouched at Axel’s feet. That close, he couldn’t miss the ebb and flow of magic surging between Vidis, Cheveyo, Raine, and the other woman.
“Cassandra, I can’t hold it back much longer.” Cheveyo’s voice was tight with strain.
“Just a little more.” The older woman’s soft response seemed to ease his tension. “Raine, dear, can you reinforce this?”
Raine swayed, but nodded. Her actual answer didn’t sound anywhere Darius could hear. Not surprising, since all three were working on the metaphysical plane in an attempt to heal the badly injured Wraith. If the damage on the outside was any indicator of what they faced on their end, Darius held little hope for Axel’s continual survival.
What was left of the man’s face was a horrific mask of wounds. Not to mention the rends and tears decorating his torso. Those injuries slipped below the towel lying across waist and groin, offering a modicum of privacy. Darius set one hand on the ground beside of Axel’s thigh, leaning in closer to examine the wounds strafing the shifter’s legs. “Claws,” he murmured.
Cheveyo turned to him, power swirling in the inky depths of his obsidian gaze, making it hard to hold. “Claws, teeth, and magic. Old magic.”
“Will you allow me to help?” Darius held that uncomfortable gaze, refusing to relent, even as the subtle challenge riled his own demon.
For a moment, the witch didn’t answer, then slowly he nodded his head. “Sit. Join, but be careful. Things are not what they seem.”
