by K. F. Breene
I had a feeling the woman had intentionally acted nonchalant in order to upset her spirit boss, hovering over her in frustration.
Daisy’s knuckles turned white as she clutched the ID tightly. “That woman didn’t even show surprise,” she said.
“She seems like she has a tedious job,” Mordecai responded, and tucked his ID into his wallet. He wouldn’t need it like Daisy would. “She’s probably numb with boredom.”
“Or still pleased with herself for killing her old boss and getting away with it.” I looked out the window as another limo pulled up behind us. “Is that how things go here? Even if the staff is murdered, no one cares?”
Before the occupant of the limo stepped out, we were back on the small road leading to our quarters.
“Depends on the person who died and their value,” Kieran answered. “Clearly her boss wasn’t valuable enough to worry about. Given he was probably not well liked or respected, and couldn’t have had any family since no one raised a fuss…” He shrugged. “He’s out of her hair.”
“This magical world doesn’t seem so bad.” Daisy finally tucked away her ID.
“One trip to a seldom-used office should not color your view of the establishment,” Zorn growled. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
“Why are we leaving Red behind?” I asked as everyone readied for our first public stroll.
Kieran was showing off the best of his wares, me included. He’d parade us around, letting the other leaders size him up while their staffs sized us up. Daisy and Mordecai would be going as my wards. Kieran wanted to show we were a family.
“She doesn’t have a blood oath,” Bria said as she checked the contents of her backpack. “She doesn’t belong.”
The guys in the crew waited outside by the small fleet of golf carts and four-wheelers, our chief mode of transportation now that the last limo had been sent back. There went our chance for a limo chase, not that I’d been looking forward to it.
“Yeah, but…you don’t have a blood oath,” I replied as Daisy opened the side door of the warehouse-residence and waited for us.
Bria straightened up and slung her backpack over her shoulders. “Necromancers are kind of magical cowboys. We’re common enough that Demigods won’t go to war for a level five, and we typically go where we please. The best of us can definitely get placement in an inner circle, but it doesn’t weird people out if we don’t. We’re just the add-ons standing in the back. People try their best to ignore us. I mean, walking dead people around is hardly a glamorous profession. Red’s fighting magic is used for protection. Given her lack of a blood oath, if she came with us, it would look like she was brought along to protect you. That’s not the message Kieran wants to send.”
Everything had multiple layers of meaning in the magical world, something I doubted I’d ever understand. I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
I walked through the door and onto the stone walkway leading into a nice garden setup. A wooden gazebo sat off to the side, its sides covered in prickly vines dotted with little flowers. The chairs within it held bright yellow cushions with cute white buttons to match the flowers. A flamboyant tree lived up to its name, the bright red-orange flowers providing a spray of color. Horseshoe pits had been set up by a round patch of perfectly tended green grass. Multiple seating setups dotted the way along the path, with benches or chairs overlooking the ocean a hundred yards from our back door. They’d put the Demigod of Poseidon near the water, which was a nice touch.
The whole place was a nice touch, actually, spacious and welcoming, with everything we could want and an abundance of subtle luxuries. Only Kieran’s entertaining area was gaudy, if I was being honest. The rest seemed to flow more with the times and our tastes.
I suddenly wondered if he’d made sure that was the case, although that didn’t explain the hideousness of the front room.
The cats slunk out of the door before I could shut it.
“No, no, back in, you two.” I motioned at Havoc as Kieran strolled out past me, looking decadent in a crisp blue suit tailored to fit his perfect body. His black shoes gleamed in the dying light and a cream waistcoat and pocket square gave him a debonair look. He wore his hair in a stylish, messy do, short on the sides and long on top. He paused to wait for me, his stance easy and powerful and confident, as if nothing in the world could ruin his day or his carefully laid plans for world domination. He was the height of trendiness and all things sexy.
In contrast, I wore a loose, flowing number in plain gray that hid all my curves. The new stylist we’d brought, who hummed beautifully and didn’t talk much, had given me a messy, loose curl that made me look half crazy, a smoky eye, and one piece of jewelry—a sort of crystal that looked like it had come from a flea market. My team had gushed about my look, and I’d stood with a confused grin, waiting for the punch line.
Apparently the punch line was me, especially standing next to Kieran.
“The cats are coming,” Kieran said, holding out his hand for me.
The expression from earlier returned to my face, I knew it. Was this the joke? Were they intentionally dressing me up as a crazy cat lady?
“They don’t have leashes. I doubt animals are supposed to come.” I gestured Havoc back into the house. She was the leader—her brother did whatever she did.
“We need to set the precedent that those cats go where you go. They are protection as well as…very interesting. They’ll add to your profile. The cats need to come.”
“But…” I looked down at myself.
“You look beautiful and those cats are cool, baby. I promise, they’ll make you look more badass, not like a pajama-wearing…whatever Harding always calls you.”
“Pajama-wearing cat lady, and I call myself that, not him.” I deflated, knowing a lost cause when I saw one. “And if you think that’s bad, you should hear what he calls you.”
Kieran handed me into the front seat of a white golf cart with a bench seat across the back. He sat in the driver’s seat and Thane climbed onto the back. The kids got in with Zorn and Dylan, and I had no idea who took the cats. Everyone else took their rides and off we went.
Watch out, magical world. Here comes the pajama-wearing Soul Stealer with her overgrown white cats.
4
Kieran
Kieran stepped out of the golf cart as the rest of his people parked, the spacious lot already half-full and alive with activity. The people who’d shown up early would be on the lower half of the status scale. This walk wasn’t mandatory, after all, and its main purpose was to allow leaders to gauge worth in the eyes of those around them. Those of high status already knew their worth, and many of them didn’t bother with the first night’s walk within the gardens reserved solely for this. Or so Kieran had heard.
This was all part of the game. Every movement and action had a purpose. Every slight or smile hinted at what was to come.
Kieran would glean a great deal from tonight, and not just from the way he was received. This was also Lexi’s debut. She was a loose cannon, clueless about many of the protocols of the magical world. They had ensured it was so—preparing her only for certain aspects of the Summit. The people here lived by rules, and the unpredictable threw them off. She would throw them off.
Her greatest defense wasn’t her magic. It was people’s fear of the unknown.
He was walking a fine line with this approach. Magnus’s not-so-subtle hint that Kieran should educate Lexi in the ways of the magical world had not failed to make an impression. But he’d decided this was the safer strategy for her—walking the fine line between knowing and not knowing.
A team of over two dozen congregated on the sidewalk at the edge of the garden promenade, and though Kieran couldn’t see who led the group, he assumed it was a someone with little power or status. Only someone who lacked confidence would bring such a large group to this event. It showed weakness. That, or they were new and hadn’t done their homework, which also indicated weakness.
Another gro
up half the size gathered at the other end of the sidewalk, much more organized and streamlined. A woman in a sparkling dress stood at the front, her head held high, her people businesslike and purposeful. Given the distance, Kieran couldn’t make out who it was, but she was clearly not a novice.
Other teams were still assembling in the parking lot, some teams finding their places quickly, like his, others less organized.
The breeze ruffled Lexi’s hair as she took her place by his side. His mark glowed on her soft skin, amplifying her natural beauty. Her dress moved and shifted as she did, pressing against her breast one moment, and against the swell of her hip the next. It was like a peep show, alluding to delights hidden between the folds of fabric. In the same breath, the viewer couldn’t help but remember that her magic held hidden horrors bubbling beneath the surface. The dichotomy was electrifying. Daisy had her own hidden talents.
He entwined his fingers with Lexi’s.
Her eyes widened a little as she looked up at him. “I thought only married leaders were supposed to hold hands with their partners?”
“Fuck ’em.” He grinned, feeling light as a feather. They were likely going to break a great many rules this week, so why not blatantly start now?
“Ready, sir,” Zorn said.
Without a word, Kieran led the way, cutting through the parked golf carts to the sidewalk, where the large group still struggled to organize. Why getting in a line was so difficult, Kieran couldn’t say, but their disorderliness no doubt spoke to how their territory was run.
“Any news?” Kieran asked as the breeze picked up, flaring Lexi’s skirt around her legs. He struggled to take his eyes off her.
“No important sightings yet,” Amber said from directly behind Kieran. Zorn walked next to her, taking Lexi’s back. The kids would be right behind them.
They took the path between the hedges, only wide enough for two or three people, depending on size. Palm trees lined the way, flanked by hedges, until they reached a curved walkway within an extravagant garden. Flowers bloomed every which way, flares of color. Trees and bushes not native to a tropical paradise reached over the path or wept beside it. To the left of the path, a willow’s leaves arched over an outcropping of seats. Demigod Arnold—mortal and showing it—sat there with his people fanned out around him, analyzing everyone who passed.
The moment the older Demigod noticed Kieran’s team, his eyes widened. His limbs shook, as though he intended to expend the effort and get up.
Kieran let his gaze slide by. Arnold was of low status and not someone to engage. Kieran had bigger fish to hook on this walk, and limited time. Only the desperate stayed out here all night.
Lexi tensed and then rolled her shoulders. “Do you feel that?” she asked quietly.
“What?” he asked.
She peered beyond him, then to her other side. “I don’t know. It feels like…pressure, kind of. Like we’re being watched.”
He clued in, putting all his senses on high, but only his nervousness for what was to come registered. “Do you feel any souls?”
“Not that I can see.” She shrugged and moved her hair across her shoulder. “I’m just keyed up.”
“We’re all keyed up.” He squeezed her hand.
As they reached the main promenade, a wide path set into the various flora, Kieran paused to let a team of twelve saunter past. He couldn’t see who led the group, but his or her team was made up solely of high level fives. One of those, a woman with deathly pale skin, hair so blonde it looked white, and eyes the palest of blues, glanced their way. Her gaze lingered on Kieran for a moment before sliding to Lexi. Her eyes widened and her step hitched, her gaze zipping back to Kieran again before her mouth moved subtly.
Another team member looked back, a man with fire-red hair and eyes so dark they looked like the night sky. His gaze moved from Kieran to Lexi to the rest of the crew.
“Yeah, keep staring, jackass,” Lexi mumbled, and Kieran barely suppressed a laugh. She likely didn’t realize she’d just said that out loud—she often reacted aggressively to unsolicited attention, the effect of trying to stay invisible all her life, he wagered.
“Left,” Amber said softly. She knew most of the inner circles in this place, having come here with Valens for years and years. Given she was walking away from the group that had taken notice of them, their leader wasn’t on her short list of potential allies.
The next team they came across was an overly large group led by a high level five. As Kieran walked by, avoiding the man’s searching gaze, his father’s voice thundered through his head: A level five as a territory leader? I’ll never understand the point.
He shook it off, continuing on, but when they passed another group—a Demigod with a disorganized, ramshackle crew—it happened again.
She should be ashamed of herself. What a waste. If only there were a way to strip people of their magic.
After that came Demigod Helga, her expression just as severe as her name, and her people perfectly in line.
“Pause if you can,” Amber murmured softly behind him.
He let his gaze travel toward Helga. She was a strong, immortal Demigod with a currently middling territory that had been flourishing a few centuries back. Word was that she’d put the brakes on a declining territory, found her ambition again, and was eager to make a comeback. If she could restore herself to her former glory, she’d be a useful ally.
That damned woman was a thorn in my side at the best of times. Thank mighty Poseidon she’s finally dwindling away.
Kieran flinched. He felt haunted, ill at ease. He didn’t even know when he’d heard his father say such things. But they’d clung to him, clogging up his thinking, polluting his views. Information was always handy, but the last thing he wanted to do was travel down the path of arrogant superiority paved by his elitist father. Kieran would not end up there. He would not.
He felt Lexi squeeze his hand, concern radiating through the soul link. In alarm, he slowed and looked down at her, wondering what was going on.
“Hi,” she said softly, and squeezed his hand again. “We’re good. I love you.”
Love and support glittered in her soft brown eyes. Warmth bled through the soul link now, and it dawned on him that she’d sensed his melancholy and fear. Given how well she knew him, she likely knew the reason for it. And although she knew enough about magical etiquette to know she shouldn’t steal his attention away from another Demigod, she was leading with her heart.
He did the same, smiling at her. “I love you too.”
After a moment, her gaze slid past him to Helga, who’d been waiting patiently for him to take notice. She’d lifted her chin, but if she was angry, it didn’t show.
He tried to contain his shock. He’d just accidentally slighted a Demigod of higher status. Helga should’ve moved on or called him down. Why the hell had she waited?
Wrapping his arrogant confidence around him like a cape, he finally met Helga’s direct and forceful stare.
“Demigod Kieran, isn’t it?” Helga’s bearing was regal.
He offered her a nod, a little light for a greeting to someone of her status, but she’d put the ball in his court. “It is. Demigod Helga, I presume,” he responded with a hint of boredom. He fell into strategy like it was second nature. And perhaps it was—he’d grown up watching his father command a room.
“It is, yes. Sorry to hear about the loss of your father. Regardless of the history, it can’t be easy to bury a parent.”
“It isn’t, no. Thank you for your condolences.” He turned toward Lexi, still holding her hand. “This is Alexis Price, my betrothed.”
“The Soul Stealer who bears your mark, yes. I figured. And there’s that handsome Lightning Bolt, I see, alive and well. What a shock. The legendary giant, your father’s master spy… Quite the stable you have already. I expect big things from you. The only question is, what kind of things will those be? Will you go the way of your father, hunting for personal gain at the cost of others, o
r will you help us pursue the common good? Or maybe you’ll roll over for those who’ve been at this much longer than you. It’s no secret Magnus is trying to get his fingers in your pie.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve entered the snake pit, boy, in a very flashy sort of way. You’ll need your wits about you or you’ll lose it all.”
Insufferable woman. Has she no decency? She hasn’t a delicate word in her mouth.
Kieran barely kept from flinching, shoving his father’s voice to the back of his mind. Still, the voice of the past had been correct. Helga was going about this too dramatically, like a toothless tiger trying to find purchase on a jugular. She’d have a hard time making important friends this way.
His smile was slight, and he shifted his gaze ahead. “Morality can be hazy among Demigods, as my Thunderstroke will tell you. The common good isn’t usually for common people. But my views will come at a cost, yes, and some will feel the burden. No one can say exactly who, yet, of course. This week should give all of us a better idea. If you’ll excuse me.”
He offered a slight nod, not looking at her, and continued on, showing his displeasure at the interaction. Two groups had watched them from the benches along the sides of the path. Everything here was for show. Every word and action was analyzed. It was how the game was played.
“Excellent,” Amber murmured behind him, and he felt a note of pride at her approval.
“That’s what we’re going for, then?” Lexi asked quietly. “Being dicks to people?”
“Depending on status, yes, mostly,” Amber replied. “Which you pulled off nicely, Alexis, capturing Kieran’s attention for yourself and making Demigod Helga wait. You treated him like he was of higher status, and Helga followed your lead. Perfect.”
“Oh. I…” Lexi trailed away as Demigod Jessup ambled along the path, proof that Demigods didn’t automatically keep their shape.
Kieran ignored him completely. He’d been of little status for as long as Kieran could remember, and for good reason. His politics were messy, his allies were few, and he cheated and lied to keep his territory operating. He didn’t deserve the mantle he possessed. It was time to demand more of Demigods, something Kieran would work for when he had some clout.
