A thin vein of white quartz twisted through the rock walls. The quartz had been magically engineered to soundproof the room. Combined with the ward, it even allowed them to speak a fae’s name freely without attracting his or her attention.
They seated themselves around the large table Adric had carved from a single large rock. Like Camelot’s famous table, it was round. This way, Adric said, each of them could see everyone else—and everyone’s ideas had equal weight.
Adric spoke to Jace first. “I hear you’re cleared for work, just nothing too strenuous.”
Jace scowled. “Suha snitched on me.”
“Of course. You’re not going out on this one, bro. But I wanted your input.” He looked around the table, addressing all three of them. “On Saturday night Zuri went back to the bar in Grace Harbor where Jace was attacked. He asked some questions, but no one knew anything.”
Jace nodded. No surprise there. “The assassin ’ported in. I don’t know about the other two, but they must have blended in somehow or I’d have seen them myself.”
“They probably used a glamour,” Adric said. “Made themselves look like someone else—someone who fit in. Maybe even a river fada.”
“But a glamour only fools the eyes—not the nose.”
The alpha shrugged. “So they didn’t get too close. You weren’t going to scent them across a crowded bar.” He looked at Zuri. “Tell him what you found out.”
“I didn’t discover a damn thing inside the bar,” the tall, dark wolf said, “but I thought I’d sniff around the parking lot, see if I could pick up anything. That’s where I ran into Rui do Mar, who was having a look around himself. I figured we should coordinate our efforts. Grace Harbor is their town, not ours.”
“Do Mar knows Tyrus’s scent,” Adric inserted. “You know what he did to the prick after he tried to kidnap Merry.”
“Tracked him to his lair in France,” Jace said, “and beat the shit out of him. Almost killed the bastard.”
Officially, Rock Run remained quiet about the attack on Tyrus, because if it became known that Dion’s second-in-command was the man who roughed up his son, Langdon would’ve been forced to act. This way, the prince could pretend nothing happened—and Tyrus wasn’t going to broadcast that a fada had overcome him so easily.
“Anyway,” Zuri said, “Do Mar was pissed as hell that a night fae dared attack a fada practically in Rock Run’s backyard. He promised to let Dion know, and then we went over the parking lot with a fine-toothed comb. Not only does do Mar have Tyrus’s scent memorized, the man’s animal is a shark. He can detect a few particles of blood in a fucking ocean.”
Jace nodded impatiently. None of this was news to him. “And? He picked up Tyrus’s scent?”
“Yep. Do Mar was sure—said he’d never forget it. And he recognized the scent of the man you killed, too. Tyrus’s chief enforcer.”
Jace was on his feet. “That sonofabitch.” He spun to look at Adric. “I’m going after him.”
“No fucking way.”
Jace slapped his palms on the granite table. “Damn it, Ric. You’re my alpha, but this is my family. Don’t ask me to choose between the two.”
Adric’s snarl made Jace’s spine tighten. The other two men moved uneasily.
“Sit. Down.”
Jace’s claws pricked out, but he grabbed onto his patience and obeyed.
“First,” the alpha held up a finger, “you’re in no condition to take on a toddler, let alone a fae. Second,” he held up another finger, “if we do this, we have to be smart about it. You’re a smart man. Use that brain of yours.”
Zuri murmured agreement, while Luc looked on, his wolf-gold eyes watchful, but Jace knew he’d be a hundred percent behind whatever Adric decided.
“Fine,” Jace spat out. Adric might be right, but Jace was sick unto death of Tyrus targeting his family. “But this time, he’s dead. The man’s not going to rest until every last Jones is wiped off the face of the earth.”
“If it’s you he’s targeting,” Adric returned. “I’m not as sure as you are. Is it you he wants, or would any of my lieutenants have done?”
“Does it matter?” Zuri asked. “Either way, I vote we put the man out of his misery.” His lips peeled in a show of canines.
“I intend to,” the alpha returned. “When he tried to kill Merry six years ago, I had no choice but to let Rock Run go after him. We weren’t strong enough.”
They all nodded. At that point, Adric had only been alpha for a few months and the clan was still reeling from the Darktime.
“But things are different now.” Adric’s smile was deadly, his cougar a shadow on his face. “We’re a hell of a lot stronger than we were six years ago. If Tyrus wants a fight, he’s going to get a fight. I’ll bring it right to his fucking lair.”
They all rumbled agreement.
“But we have to be careful,” Zuri said. “If Prince Langdon finds out, we’re all dead.”
“Agreed.” Adric looked at Jace. “Thoughts?”
His mind was already ticking along: analyzing, examining patterns. “We find out everything we can about Tyrus. Where he lives, who he hangs out with, what he fucking eats for breakfast. Then we figure the best way to take him out so that it doesn’t rebound on us.”
“My thoughts exactly,” said Adric. “I don’t care if it takes a month or two. In fact, that might be good. He’s a fae. He’ll think we’re too stupid—or afraid—to come after him.”
Zuri fingered his quartz. “The night fae compound is in Virginia, but Tyrus spends most of his time at his lair in France. We’ll have to catch him outside. The night fae guard their lairs with triple wards.”
“So we catch him outside,” said Jace. “Drag him into the noonday sun and keep him there until his fucking skin fries.”
“First, we need more intel,” Adric said, “including exactly where his lair is.”
“Do Mar will tell us,” Jace said. “He has as much skin in this game as we do.”
“Good.” Adric looked around the table. “Well? You in?”
They nodded as one. “Fuck yeah,” Luc said.
“You’re elected, then,” Adric told him.
Jace made a sound of dissent, and Adric slashed him a look. “We need you here to work on the smartphones.”
“They’ll keep for a few weeks.”
“Do you really want to be out of the country if he sends someone after Merry? We’re not even a hundred percent sure he’s in France.”
Jace blew out a breath. Adric was right; he’d rather stay close for now. “Fine,” he said, even though his animal was scraping against his insides, coldly eager to go hunting.
Adric turned back to Luc. “Take Nash with you.”
“Nash Savonett?” Luc lifted a shaggy black brow. “You sure?” Nash was Leron’s youngest son.
Adric nodded. “He’s shaping up to be an excellent tracker, and he’s earned it. It’s been six years, and he’s proved his loyalty to me. It’s time we gave him a chance to work his way up the hierarchy.”
“What about Kane?” Jace asked. “He’s not going to be happy if you pass him over for his younger brother.”
“Then he can prove himself the way his brother has. He works hard, but he plays both sides. I don’t trust him with a covert job like this.”
Zuri cleared his throat. “There’s one more thing. You were right, Jace—you heard a third man that night you were attacked. Do Mar doesn’t know who it is, but he had the scent of an earth fada.”
11
Adric loped across the broken-down Westside neighborhood he called home. A third of the houses were boarded up or turned into squats for junkies. But there were families here too—a tricycle was overturned on a small, neatly-kept lawn, and two women sat on a stoop, a toddler between them.
A man with a gangster tat on his neck strutted down the sidewalk, all broad shoulders and attitude. Then he got a closer look and continued past, eyes down. Adric was the most dangerous predator around, an
d everyone knew it.
Adric rented the house above his den to a pair of baby-faced drug dealers barely out of their teens. The older one leaned against the porch rail, arms crossed, a cigarillo hanging out of his mouth.
“Wassup, bro.”
Adric jerked his chin. The drug dealers were camouflage—no one would guess the Baltimore alpha lived here—but he was thinking it was time he cleaned up the neighborhood like Jace had.
The teenager’s flat brown eyes tracked him as he headed around the house. He pulled up the trap door concealed beneath the back porch and loped down the two flights of stairs to his den. As he entered the living room, the motion triggered the quartz wall sconces he’d installed when he and Marjani had first moved in.
The den had belonged to a family who had been completely wiped out in the Darktime, but Adric didn’t think about that. Not anymore. It was his home now, the first since his parents had died and he and Marjani had been sent to live with their uncle. Leron’s den had never felt like home.
The wall sconces cast a warm amber light over his sister, curled up on a rug in front of the fireplace. She was in her cougar form again. She’d turned on the fake fire—also quartz-powered—and was gazing into it, eyes slit. The flickering firelight turned her pelt a soft gold, but it couldn’t conceal her weight loss or that her fur was patchy with ill health.
Adric blew out a breath. Sometimes an entire day went by without his sister taking her human form.
“Did you eat today?”
Her head lifted, turned. Cool blue eyes examined him as if he were an annoying insect.
He clenched his hands, feeling helpless. “You have to eat, Jani.”
She tilted her head, considering that.
His claws pricked his palms, his cat wanting to slash something. He drew a slow breath and retracted them.
“You can’t go on like this. You didn’t go out the whole weekend. Jace asked for you. He almost died, you know. Would it have killed you to pay him a visit?”
That got through to her. She’d always liked Jace. Her furry gold brow knit, and she yowled a question.
“He’s fine,” Adric replied. “He was back at work today.”
She set her head back on her paws. Discussion closed.
He let out a growl of frustration. Marjani was one step away from becoming feral, lost in her animal—and forever lost to him. Because he’d have to put her down if she became truly wild. He couldn’t have a feral cougar with her intelligence roaming Baltimore.
He fingered his quartz, tempted. He was one of the rare fada with two Gifts. He was a tracker, one of the best in the world. But he had another, secret Gift—the ability to hypnotize others with his quartz.
Marjani was one of the few people who knew about his second Gift. He could hypnotize her, compel her to forget what had happened last year. But she’d made him promise that he wouldn’t.
“No,” she’d snarled when he’d suggested it. “This is me. My life. I need to deal with it. You can’t make everything better, Ric—not this time.”
For Marjani, he’d break a sworn vow, even if the backlash killed him. But she was the one who’d extracted the vow, and that was what stopped him.
He dropped onto the rug. It was a plush orange shag like something from the sixties, one of his few indulgences. He’d installed it as much for Marjani as for himself—a reward for the times they’d shivered all night in some boarded-up house, or crouched in the chilly rain because Leron had ordered them to stand watch.
He sat cross-legged and stared into the fire. The fake flames danced, bright flickers of warmth. Even in the summer, their cats craved heat.
“I need you, Jani. I need all four of my lieutenants. There’s something I’m not seeing. Lord Prick was behind Jace’s attack, but it looks like he might’ve been working with one of us.”
He swallowed something acrid. He’d done some terrible things to end the Darktime, including assassinating his own uncle rather than challenge him to a duel for alpha. But he hadn’t been able to risk losing. Leron had been out of control, and Adric was the only one strong enough to take him. It was either kill Leron, or see everyone he loved die.
When he’d first taken over as alpha, he’d cleaned up the last pockets of resistance and declared the Darktime over. Most of their elders were dead, and the ones that weren’t either swore allegiance to Adric—or were executed. That should’ve been the end of it. He’d turned his attention to rebuilding his ragged, war-torn clan, believing he had the full support of his remaining clanmates.
But six years later, he was still fighting an underground conflict that he suspected had been instigated by his own cousin, Corban Savonett. Marjani’s attack had been carried out by some rogue river fada—but the rogues had been working with some of Adric’s own people.
Corban had never accepted Adric as alpha. He believed that as Leron’s oldest son, he should’ve been made alpha after his death, but the fada didn’t work like that. An alpha had to earn the title. And strength wasn’t enough; an alpha needed his people’s respect, too.
Corban had challenged Adric anyway, and lost. But even though Adric had made his cousin a high-ranking sentry, a position just under his four lieutenants, Corban hadn’t given up. Instead, the bastard had struck at Adric’s weak spot—Marjani. His sister was strong—a hard-ass soldier—but they’d drugged her and smashed her quartz so she couldn’t fight back.
Adric’s fingers curled. If he’d had any proof that Corban was behind it, he’d have slit the bastard’s throat, but his cousin was too smart to get caught. He hid behind others, and every single one of them had either died or killed themselves before Adric could question them.
He gazed broodingly at Marjani’s silent form. He questioned his decision to let Corban go every day. Every single fucking day.
But—“I couldn’t execute Corban without proof,” he told her. “I swore when I became alpha things would be different.” Plus, Corban and his brothers were still a power in the clan. Adric had been afraid that if he pushed too hard, he’d set off another clan war.
So instead, he’d sent Corban out of the country on a job for the ice fae, after first forcing his cousin to swear he wouldn’t come back until the job was complete. Corban was to capture a rogue ice fae and return her to her king for justice. Corban would be lucky to come back alive, and they both knew it. A powerful ice fae could literally freeze you where you stood. They fed on the energy of motion, meaning they could stop your heart, your lungs…or simply lock your muscles in place until you died of starvation.
Marjani’s head swung toward Adric. His breath hitched. She was listening.
He hurried back into speech. “If only we knew what the fuck happened to Corban. But he’s gone missing. I can’t even raise him through his quartz. He could be dead—but I don’t think so.”
And why wasn’t the ice fae king more concerned? Sindre had listened to Adric’s explanation with an inscrutable expression and then said, “The agreement is void, then.”
Adric had inclined his head, relieved Sindre wasn’t demanding he send another man out on what amounted to a suicide mission. But it was damned odd. Sindre was an old, cold fae, and the fae had a thing about honoring a contract. The king should’ve been out for blood, but instead he’d given up with barely a protest.
Marjani rose to her feet, gave herself a shake and padded out of the room.
“Jani?” he asked, but she didn’t acknowledge him. Disappointed, he scrubbed a hand over his face. He was so damned tired.
But a short while later, she returned, a woman once again. She paused a few feet away and gazed down at him with shadowed eyes. She’d put on gray shorts and a T-shirt. Once, she’d worn bright, colorful clothes like Suha. And just the other day, he’d come home to find she’d given herself a buzz-cut.
But she was up, and the eyes gazing down at him were the rich brown of her human form. For now, that was enough.
She stuck her hands into the back pockets of her shorts. He�
��d thought she was too thin as a cougar, but this was shocking. Her arms and legs were bony brown sticks.
His breath whistled in. He rose to his feet, trying to conceal his dismay.
Marjani didn’t seem to notice. When she spoke, her voice was rusty from disuse. “Tell me what you know.”
12
Monday evening found Jace on his way up to Grace Harbor. Suha would bitch that he was doing too much, but Merry was worried about him, and if Jace could ease that by visiting her, then he would.
He reached the Grace Harbor exit and tried not to think about Evie. But his jaguar was more basic. It perked up, flexing its claws and vibrated its throat in an instinctive mating vocalization. A picture of Evie formed in his mind—shiny blond cap of hair, big dark eyes and that tight muscle tee cupping small but perfect breasts.
“Yeah, yeah,” Jace muttered. “But we’re here to see Merry, remember?”
The cat settled. The cub came first. But after…
Jace headed west until he reached the narrow dirt road that led to Rock Run. Two minutes after he crossed the line into Rock Run’s territory, two large men on motorcycles appeared on the next hill. They zoomed down the incline toward him, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake.
Jace stopped his bike at the top of the hill. He was in a lush old-growth forest, the Susquehanna River visible over the treetops to the north. The big river undulated in the late afternoon sun, a wide ribbon of bronze and gold. To his left, Rock Run Creek snaked through the greenery on its way to the Susquehanna.
The Rock Run men skidded to a stop a few yards way: Tiago do Rio and Chico Nobrega. The alpha had sent his own brother, and Nobrega was Tiago’s best friend and a Rock Run sentry.
“Peace to you and yours.” Jace raised a hand in greeting. “I came to see my niece.”
“Peace,” Tiago returned. “But this isn’t your scheduled day.” Both men were dark, good-looking Latinos, but Tiago was a younger copy of his brother Dion—big, broad and arrogant with a mane of black hair tied back with a leather thong and blue eyes so light they appeared almost silver.
Saving Jace Page 9
