Feathers and Fire Series Box Set 1

by Shayne Silvers

  Fabrizio spoke clearly, taking no offense at the thought of his rooms being searched. “I checked Crispin and Windsor’s rooms as well. With…” he averted his eyes, not wanting to reveal his accomplice, “a different Conclave member.”

  Daniel dipped his head in acknowledgment before turning back to me, taking a calming breath. “Even our rooms were searched. Other than Crispin’s sprint to meet up with me, and Windsor’s sprint to replace him with you and Fabrizio, we remained in groups at all times. In an attempt to eliminate the chance of the thief concealing his crime. No one was allowed near their own rooms during this search.” I opened my mouth, but he cut me off. “And before you belabor the obvious, two randomly paired Conclave Members waited around the corner for Windsor after he told you to meet with me. They escorted him to the meeting. In record time, I might add,” he shot an amused look at two of the older gentlemen on the council. “Windsor was never out of their sight.”

  Daniel gave me a moment to digest it all before proceeding. “We chose Crispin to search Roland’s room last, out of respect. It seems we have only succeeded in turning on each other. Unjustly, and for that, I apologize.” It sounded like he was having his teeth pulled, but he had said it. “Despite our best efforts, we are very aware that someone within these walls has betrayed us,” he admitted tiredly. I knew this was as much of an apology as I was going to get, so let it go. “And if you’re going to ask who supervised Christopher, Richter and myself after our meeting with you, the answer is no one.” He shrugged. “We share the same alibi, as flimsy as that is. But within ten minutes of leaving you, we were back with the rest of the Conclave and Shepherds.”

  Nods all around, vouching for them.

  “Oh,” I expelled a breath, unable to find a hole in the story. Which meant all this shouting had been for nothing. We still didn’t know who killed Constantine, another man had died, and now we had a theft on our hands. No one here had been a part of the theft. Unless Daniel had just admitted it with his weak alibi. Then again, nothing criminal had happened during that brief period of time. The theft was already over by that point, and they had an alibi for the theft.

  We all did.

  My own magic was dangerously close to the surface, ready to destroy something though. I took a deep breath and turned to Crispin. “I’m sorry.”

  He nodded stiffly. “Me, too.”

  I forced my mind to go through the chronology, searching for anything. “Still, I shredded your accusation of my involvement in less than a minute. Just consider how wise it would be to use me rather than accuse me… You asked us to come here. I definitely didn’t want to visit,” I said, struggling for composure. “And to suspect Roland? In either the theft or the murder?” I blew a very unflattering sound from my lips.

  “Roland was Constantine’s student, and he led his killers through our door,” Richter rasped. Christopher instantly reached out to catch him as he stumbled in his effort to stand, rubbing his back and murmuring in his ear.

  The rest of the room grew silent as a tomb. “As we mentioned earlier, Miss Penrose, we had been considering a promotion for you. But I think we should let our tempers cool before we broach that topic again,” Daniel said in a tight voice. His tone made me acutely aware that any future conversation – if there was one – would be very brief.

  And that it would probably be to inform me they were about to wipe my mind and send me packing in a Sister’s habit. Good thing Roland and I would be on the run long before that.

  On the up side, at least I wouldn’t be a Shepherd.

  If we escaped, that was. In all likelihood, this mission would lead to our doom. Our only real chance at success would be to break the girls out of their prison cell and run as far and fast as we could manage. Because to find Constantine’s killer, we had to now work around an entire organization who didn’t trust us. Even if we saved the wolves, Roland was on borrowed time, having only the blood bags from the apartment for sustenance. Pretty soon someone would tick him off at the wrong moment and he would rip the offending vocal cords right out of someone’s neck. I shivered, imagining Roland having to hear any of what I had just gone through.

  It would have broken him, turning him into a vampire in an instant.

  “You are dismissed,” Daniel said, meeting my cold glare. “We… apologize for jumping to conclusions. We will keep the file, and will continue our investigation into exactly what happened here today.”

  I tried one last time. “Why won’t you just let us help find the real killer?”

  “Because we already found them, and their trial is tomorrow,” Daniel said. “The witnesses will put everything into perspective. They positively identified the wolves. Well, the girls, since they don’t know that werewolves exist.”

  I gave it up, knowing it was fruitless. Of course the witnesses had identified them. Roland and I needed to come up with an exit strategy. Because we had come here thinking to deal with rational men, but instead, found a raging ocean of paranoia and incompetence.

  I realized we hadn’t discussed the theft in detail. What had been stolen? Something big if it had created this clusterfuck. But I knew I wasn’t going to get any answers right now. I was lucky to be dismissed rather than have my head detached.

  One thing I was certain of, was that the real killer might just be the cleverest son of a bitch to ever fall out of a vagina. He had probably even convinced his mother it was an immaculate conception…

  Chapter 40

  I had spoken with Roland on the phone, giving him the very broad strokes of my hearing with the Conclave. Telling him the whole truth with every raw detail might have sent him over the edge. He had returned to tell me he had found nothing useful at the crime scene. Then he had informed the three Shepherds that he wanted to talk with them in private. I had told him how stupid his idea was, and that because it made no rational sense, maybe it did make sense in this crazy place.

  “Make sure you come back to my room after you murder them so I can help you hide the bodies. We’ll probably have to leave quickly,” I said, tapping my lip as if planning.

  Roland grunted, not finding it funny. But I hadn’t been joking. Not really. Well, maybe a little.

  The truth was that I was beyond caring. I had no sympathy left for them. I had entered that critical stage in a woman’s life – that place when emotion starved to death and the only two options left to fill that void was to become a serial killer or to take a long, hot shower.

  I spent three minutes, exactly, debating these two options.

  The shower won, but it was a close thing. I even doodled a pros and cons list while Roland paced, his thoughts absorbed with his upcoming meeting with the Shepherds. I read the list one last time, verifying that the shower had in fact, won. Then I signed it, my pen stabbing through the paper at the end, and tossed the paper on the bed in case the Conclave needed evidence later. They’d probably miss it and accuse the janitor anyway. Incompetent bastards. For good measure, I hurled the pen across the room.

  Roland looked up at me, saw the paper, and walked over. He grinned from ear-to-ear as he read over it, and his fangs even popped out. When he looked back up, I just shrugged tiredly.

  He tossed the paper back on the bed and sat beside me. “I need to look into their eyes when I speak to them, Callie. They will be more open with me if you’re not around. I know their vices and virtues. They can’t claim piety around me. We were students together. It will be four brothers hashing it out. Maybe I can find a discrepancy somewhere.”

  Since I wasn’t entirely concerned if he decided to kill them, I simply nodded. “Okay. See you later.” I stood and walked into the bathroom, turning on the shower. I stripped down, clipped my hair into a bun, and stepped inside, closing the door behind me.

  I shuddered in relief as the hot water splashed my chest, and I let out a sigh of relaxation. Finally, something enjoyable from this hellish trip. I turned to face the glass so the shower could hit my back and hopefully wash away the last of the ho
micidal particles that threatened to smother me. I closed my eyes, lathering up with a bar of soap and sucking in deep, calming breaths of the steamy air as the hot water brought peace and prosperity to my soul—

  “I’ve accepted my bloodlust,” a voice said from directly opposite the clear glass door.

  I shrieked in alarm, slamming into the back wall and dropping the bar of soap onto my toes. “Damnit, Roland!” I snapped, hopping on one foot and panting as I tried to wash the soap from my eyes while covering my naughty bits as best as possible.

  “My eyes are closed, Callie. Good lord,” he said in a patronizing tone. I cleared my eyes enough to see his silhouette facing me through the clear glass. He did have a hand over his eyes.

  “Congratulations. You learned the vampire creep skillset. Now, get the hell out of here and go kill those stupid friends of yours,” I cursed.

  “I will not kill them, Callie. They are my brothers,” he said sternly.

  “What are you still doing here? Git!”

  “I was trying to tell you that I’ve accepted what will happen to me,” he said, sounding frustrated that I wasn’t taking him seriously. He stood facing me, eyes still covered.

  “This isn’t a suicide message, right? That you’re accepting your fate and are willing to sacrifice yourself rather than remain an abomination?” I asked warily.

  He hesitated. “No. I very much value this life of mine. I will continue to do good with it. I’m just trying to tell you that I am at peace—”

  “Great. No suicide means you can get the hell out of here. Now. We’ll have an I’m Fanging Out Party with Nate and Alucard in a few days. I’ll make sure he brings his unicorn. Cool? Great. Buh-bye.”

  I heard him muttering that unicorns didn’t exist as he finally stomped away, closing the door.

  What the hell? Just waltzing into my bathroom while I showered? Maybe the creep factor was another symptom of vampirism. Because Roland used to be allergic to boobies. I teased him endlessly about female nudity, and it had never gotten old. But here he was, wanting to have a girl talk while I showered, trying to not think about murdering things.

  I sighed, taking a calming breath. Then I peeped over the door, verifying he had actually left this time. Confident I was safe, I tried to enjoy the rest of my shower, letting my mind wander.

  The Conclave had been robbed while we were all in a meeting with Nate and Alucard.

  So, none of us was the thief.

  The Conclave hadn’t told me what was stolen or if it was somehow dangerous.

  In looking for the thief, the Conclave had checked everyone’s rooms for evidence of the crime, even though we all had the same alibi. Unsurprisingly, we had all checked out.

  At least on the theft.

  But they had found their file on Constantine’s murder in Roland’s room – the file delivered to Roland by Bishop Vincente. Only later did we find out this file was sent after he had died. I had accused Crispin, but he had proof – backed by Daniel – that he hadn’t had time to go back to kill the bishop, obtain the file, and then secretly deliver it to us, so he was clear.

  Which begged the question. Who had really sent it?

  Had Bishop Vincente really died from heart failure, or had he been cleverly murdered?

  Because someone had sent us that file, and my bet was Vincente’s death was related.

  Regardless, finding that file in Roland’s rooms had looked highly suspicious. Especially when we couldn’t back up the source. Because Roland had burned the note from Bishop Vincente. If it hadn’t been a fake note to begin with. There was no way to check now, though.

  All in all, we had made absolutely no progress on Constantine’s murder.

  We’d spent two hours with a useless file that contained zero real evidence.

  All other efforts to dig up information on Constantine or the murder had proven worthless, and we had been blacklisted from speaking with the two witnesses. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that we had exactly zero chances in speaking with the girls, either. If the Shepherds wouldn’t let us talk to the witnesses, they sure as hell weren’t going to let us talk to the murder suspects. Because the Conclave thought we were biased.

  Unless Roland could mindfuck the Shepherds into letting us talk with them, using his fledgling vampire skills. But that could backfire easily, and then his secret would be outed.

  I climbed out of the shower and toweled off. I hadn’t spotted a hair dryer in my bathroom, so had decided not to wash my hair. It was clean, anyway. Somewhat. And with the Desperate Bishops of Vatican City reality TV show I found myself living, I wasn’t really in the mood to pick up a hunk of man-meat for the night.

  As a fundamental law of the universe, celibacy wasn’t sexy.

  Even if I did somehow discover the man of my dreams in priest’s robes, I had exactly zero chance of turning the pious zero to a hero. Unless I wanted to break his faith and paint a scarlet letter on my forehead. Home-wrecking the House of God. Go big or go home, right?

  I realized I was slaphappy, and spending entirely too much mental energy attacking everything the Vatican stood for. I let out a calming breath as I dried off, and admitted to myself that I was being irrational. The men I had considered most holy and just in the world, had failed to meet my expectations. Not only had they failed my expectations as men of the cloth, but as human beings. Then they’d had the audacity to accuse me of crimes I would never commit.

  I no longer considered the warrior priests as untouchable. Instead, I found myself in a city of incompetent hypocrites who were supposed to be the last line of defense between monsters and humans. And I found them wanting. In essence, I had been let down.

  Still, it wasn’t fair for me to doggedly mock their faith. Even if it was only in my head.

  I couldn’t blame God for their shortcomings. I tugged on some tight black pants with a black tank top. Then I threw on a white dress shirt over it, buttoning it high enough so that my glorious love devils didn’t give instant heart attacks to any of the old men within leering distance. Then I did up one more button to be safe, even though it made me feel nerdy. I tied my hair back in a ponytail and tugged on my Darling and Dear boots. I focused on them, watching as they abruptly shifted into almost knee high, black leather boots. Not that I needed it, but these boots had the ability to sense demons.

  And with the glorious chase we were being led on, it actually might make sense to learn a demon was just playing games with us.

  I locked the door behind me on the way out, surprised no one was waiting for me. The three Shepherds must still be talking to Roland. I had almost expected to find the three Shepherds decapitated with their blood drained and their heads neatly arranged before my door with a note from Roland announcing it was time for us to leave, and did I need help with my bag?

  Maybe I needed some caffeine. It had been a day and a half since I had last slept.

  “Where do you find drugs in Vatican City?” I murmured to myself. I heard someone gasp down the hall and turned to flash them an innocent smile.

  An older woman winced in a failed attempt to smile, and then fled down another hall.

  Oh well.

  Chapter 41

  My burner phone rang, startling the hell out of me. It had completely slipped my mind. I frowned down at it for a second and then answered. “Hello?”

  “Callie!” Claire’s voice rang out. Whenever one of us was heading out of town we always made sure to give the other a way to get in contact, whether it was the address, name of the hotel and room number, or a phone number.

  “Claire,” I replied lamely, too surprised to think straight as I wondered why she was calling from the middle of Alaska – where I hadn’t even thought she had cell service.

  “I came back to town early. What’s up with the foreign number? Where are you?” She paused, and her breathing got heavier as if she was speaking directly into the microphone. “Are you on a romantic adventure with a certain billionaire?” she purred.

  �
��I wish…” I wondered where to even begin to lie about my trip. Then I realized how my answer had sounded. “I meant,” I said, ignoring her outburst of delighted giggles, “I’m on a job, and it’s sucking hard. Nothing to do with Nate. I’m with Roland.” I had to be very careful here. So much had happened, and I didn’t want to give her too many details or she would be on the first flight here.

  “Boo. No fun.”

  “Why did you come home early?”

  “I needed a break from all the nature stuff. The bears are heavy, Callie. Spiritually speaking. Well, literally, too, I guess. I needed to get away. And I thought we could use some long overdue girl time,” she pouted. “Watching crap movies and devouring popcorn.” She sounded disappointed that her vision of reality didn’t align with the universe.

  “Soon,” I agreed. I hoped I wasn’t lying. It did sound nice. But Roland and I might be on the run soon. And we would hopefully have two werewolves to babysit.

  Realizing this was the only means of girl time, Claire decided to unload her life story on me, and I couldn’t exactly tell her that I was about to walk into a room where Roland might have killed his coworkers. “Kenai didn’t want me to leave, and thought it would be hilarious to steal my credit card and keys, telling me I could use his room at the Cave instead of my own house. Of course, he told me this over the phone… after I had already landed in Kansas City.”

  I laughed. Such a tiny problem to have, although I was wise enough not to tell her that. “And what did you do to deserve that?”

  She grew quiet for a few seconds. “Nothing.”

  I burst out laughing at her obvious lie. “You can crash at my place,” I said, reading between the lines about her motive for calling me, and not making her ask me for help outright. “My purse is on the table, and you know where my spare key is.” Luckily for her, people in Kansas City rarely asked for ID when offered a credit card.