by A. L. Tyler
I raised my eyebrows, nodding. “Yes, I would love to see Vault C. Do not make a move on me down there.”
He crossed his arms. “And I thought I’d never be able to make you nervous again.”
“Vault C is sexier than you are,” I replied. “You might bruise your ego.”
He laughed, and I caught a glimpse of the fangs he usually tried so hard to conceal.
“And here you are.” We both turned to Rogers, who was standing in the doorway. “Dinner will start in thirty minutes. Axel would like you to attend so you can meet the other guests. Casual attire.”
Nick pulled out his cell phone. “I apologize, I had my volume off. We’ll start getting ready.”
It would have taken me at least thirty minutes to find my way back to the rooms, so I was glad when Nick led the way. He winked as he left me at the door.
“We’ll do the Vault after dinner.”
My heart fluttered as I pulled on a clean shirt and pants. Vault C held artifacts so ancient and touched with magic that carbon dating couldn’t accurately date them. The surviving guides of Alexandria were down there, along with some personal possessions of Merlin. It was rumored that they had a taxidermy Chimera in there.
It was rumored they had dormant dragons’ eggs.
They had a fifty-meter chunk of a ley line excavated from northern Iceland that originated before people. Before witches. Before magic.
It was the origin of us, and not even the greatest scholars of the last five centuries could say why.
And right at that moment, as I was putting on makeup for probably the fifth time ever in my life, it was beneath my feet. I was going to see it that night. I was going to hear proto-magic.
I hardly recognized Nick when I stepped out of my door. He was wearing a casual suit, and he sounded strange without his usual company of wards and protections. I knew he had a prayer circle on one side of his back, and it rang a little louder without the muffling jacket.
“You look nice,” I said, suddenly aware that I hadn’t packed anything other than my usual clothes. If I was expected to dress up, I was screwed.
Nick’s eyes flashed down to my shirt and jeans, and I braced myself for the sarcasm.
“So do you.” He offered his arm, and I took it.
It was all new. It was all strange. I felt like we were working a case and pretending to be other people, and I couldn’t wait for the case to conclude so we could get back to reviewing criminal records over takeout Chinese in his apartment.
I glanced cautiously up at Nick, and his lips twitched at a smile. He knew I looked, but he didn’t look back.
Being in the Vault alone with him suddenly made my stomach uneasy. This could all be a colossal mistake.
The storm had rolled in by the time we arrived. Rain slapped against the windows of the dining room in large sheets and massive waves, and everything was dark beyond. Axel had changed into a candy-apple-red suit, and combined with his white hat, he looked as eccentric as any Hollywood billionaire or pimp.
He leaned casually on the bar in the corner, chatting with a middle-aged woman in a dress that looked like five peacocks stitched together at odd angles. His eye caught mine. “Jette! Warren, come here, let me introduce you. This is Molly Wolffkyn, one of my business associates.”
I gave Nick a surprised look before I could stop myself, automatically sticking out my hand to shake.
Molly grasped my fingers with a polite smile. “Pleasure.”
“Wolffkyn?” I asked, unsure if I’d heard him correctly.
“Molly Wolffkyn,” Axel repeated with a nod. “Molly, this is Jette Driftwood. She robbed the Bleak of the Jarvais Topaz and lived to tell the tale.”
“Wolffkyn?” I repeated.
“Molly is the wife of Sergio Wolff,” Axel said with a broad smile. “And having looked at that list from both sides of the law, I’m sure you know who Sergio is.”
I did. Sergio Wolff was infamous for his rallying of the Packs. If anyone could threaten the Bleak’s stranglehold on power in the magic community, it was him. And beyond his ability to challenge their political authority, he was known for using some brutal intimidation tactics in the businesses he ran. He was, after all, a werewolf.
Sergio had been riding the most wanted list for a decade or longer.
Chapter 4
“Wolffkyn,” Molly assured me politely, cherry red lips smiling as she tossed her dark hair. She released my hand. “Don’t let it bother you, dear. I believe they classified you as a higher threat than he ever was. And I’m his estranged wife, since long before the trouble started.”
Molly cast a long look at Axel, and his eyes glimmered as he took a sip from his drink. He pointed at Nick. “And speaking of Sergio, this is Nick Warren. He saved me from the assassin your husband sent after me all those years ago. He’s a vampire, but you wouldn’t know it just looking at him.”
I shoved my hands in my pockets, raising my eyebrows as Axel flashed me an amused grin and looked back and forth between Nick and Molly.
Now I saw his game.
“Thank you, Axel.” Apparently Nick was familiar with Axel’s antics, because he wasn’t put off. “Jette, you wouldn’t know it to look at him, but Axel’s a real pain in the ass. Do you want me to tell the story, Axel? About that assassin?” He didn’t wait for a response before turning to Molly. “Axel made a stupid bet, lost the bet, and took a skinny dip in the ocean as a result. In April.”
Grinning furiously, Axel went behind the bar to make another drink.
“Well I’d say he’s lucky to be alive,” Molly replied. “But that story didn’t have an assassin in it, unless it was the bet winner.”
She turned to take the drink that Axel offered her.
“No,” Nick said. “The winner was this other jackass... Never mind. Different story. I hauled Axel out of the water when he was too numb to do it himself, and that was when the asshole with the gun started firing.”
“And Nick took off into the woods looking for the sniper, got into a scrape with the wolves, and saved my frozen, naked ass.” Axel laughed.
“Your husband hires shitty snipers.” Nick pulled a flask from inside his jacket. I wondered how “shitty” they were if the memory drove him to drink.
A young woman bearing Molly’s dark hair sidled up next to her. She had sharp eyes, all of her mother’s beauty, and none of her grace. Her clothes were as everyday and distressed as mine, but hers were designer brands.
“Mr. Hayden,” she said, seeing the break in conversation. “I was wondering when we could discuss—”
Molly raised a hand. “Business happens tomorrow, Skyla. Tonight is a celebration.”
Skyla scowled. “I didn’t come for a party, mother.”
Molly squared her shoulders. She set down her drink on the bar and started to turn.
“You’ve got a mind for business, Ms. Wolffkyn,” Axel said, stepping between the two of them. “It’s a quality I admire. I’d be happy to discuss any matter you have to your satisfaction. Please excuse us.”
With a final glare from Molly, the two of them departed for another corner of the room.
Molly tugged at the front of her dress, her preening oddly reminiscent of the bird she was wearing. Her angry eyes were visible over the rim of her glass as she took another drink.
“I suppose you’ve already met Rogers and Amos,” she said, shaking off her mood.
“Amos?” I frowned.
Nick nodded to the far end of the dining room table. A slight man in a gray sweater was sitting alone and quiet, reading something on his phone. His hair was still damp, perhaps from showering after the journey, and looked like it hadn’t seen a pair of scissors in a while. He had a goatee, and baby blue eyes stared out from under the mess of dark brown hair.
Molly lowered her voice. “Axel’s son. They usually aren’t on speaking terms.”
Nick flashed her a questioning look.
“Amos is an artist.” Molly shrugged, sadness reflected in
her eyes. “Axel isn’t. It’s caused more than a few disagreements, because Axel wants to teach him the family business and Amos wants to paint naked women, or whatever it is he does. I think Axel is too hard on him. Poor boy.”
Nick’s eyes refocused on Molly. “That’s Natalie’s son?”
“Hmm.” Molly gave Nick an impressed nod. “You knew Natalie? Poor Nat. She was a free spirit, too. I think that didn’t help, because Amos does resemble her.” Molly’s eyes flashed to me as she drank again, seeming to grasp that I was an outsider in this conversation. “She died when Amos was three. Cave diving accident in South America.”
Not a bad way to go. At least there was an unusual story. It probably didn’t help Amos any, though.
“Amos has been refusing the family money for years, of course,” Molly went on, keeping her voice low as she turned her back to him. “Axel kept putting obnoxious stipulations on it to try and control him. He’s been threatening for a year now to write Amos out of his will. No one believes he’ll do it because Amos is his only child, but now he’s gone and invited his brother. Callum isn’t here yet, but I’m betting the yelling starts when he arrives.”
“Cal,” Nick repeated. “The biologist?”
“The same. You know Cal?” A crooked smile spread across her lips as the glass continued to hang in her hand. “Mr. Warren, how is it that we haven’t met yet?”
“No, I’ve never met him,” Nick replied. “Axel was always talking about him. I think he was cataloging flies in Australia the last time I was here.”
“Or squid in the Indian Ocean, or rats in Morocco, gnomes in the Himalayas...” Molly laughed brightly. “He’s never here, but his postcards are. I don’t even think Rogers has ever seen him in the flesh.”
I took a deep breath, glancing at Nick. He was glancing at me, and I knew we were sharing a common thought. The guests of this intimate party were Axel’s best friend, son, brother, rescuer, and... Molly, who seemed to know a lot about the regular goings-on in Axel’s life. Molly, whose daughter thought they were there on business.
Ten to one that Axel was sleeping with a crime boss’s wife.
Nick raised an eyebrow.
A young woman wearing a traditional maid’s uniform entered, pushing a cart. Axel excused himself from his conversation with Skyla and stood up.
“My dear friends,” he said, gesturing at the table. “Please. Sit.”
The table was large enough for twenty. We ended up awkwardly situated at one end as the maid maneuvered around to deliver our plates. Silverware inlaid with diamonds framed dishes more expensive than my car.
“Are these conflict-free?” Amos asked, flashing his spoon at his father.
Axel snapped open his napkin and settled it into his lap. “They were until you opened your mouth.”
Amos sighed, tossing the spoon back onto the table. Axel narrowed his eyes at him.
“Axel,” Molly said in warning.
He cleared his throat, eyes never leaving Amos. “Shaina, please check the kitchen for conflict-free, non-GMO, organically sourced cutlery that did not originate in a sweatshop for my son. If we don’t have anything suitable, I’m sure he’ll get a kick out of using any twigs you might find on the lawn.” He glanced at the windows. “But as it is sundown, you’ll be on your own to fetch the twigs, Amos.”
As if on cue, a blur of gray fur scrambled by the long row of windows. I shot up out of my chair, heart racing as the familiar twinge of magic pulsed in my palms. I turned my eyes back to Axel, and his expression changed.
Eyes twinkling, he nodded at the window. “It takes some getting used to. Go ahead and look. They won’t hurt you.”
I walked to the far side of the table, breathless as I stared into the storm and through the rain-distorted panes.
The trees were thrashing in the wind and the veranda outside the windows was slick and wet. Light from the dining room danced off of every falling drop.
I tried to focus my mind, to listen for the sound of tiny, screaming claws, but the wards on the window were too loud.
The sounds of forced, polite conversation faded into the background.
There were at least ten other items in the dining room fighting for my attention: curses and enchantments. Protections. Domestic spell work. Raw magic contained in ancient artifacts and family heirlooms spelled over by each generation until they carried their own unique symphonies.
Just to the left of my face, a breath clouded the glass. Glowing yellow eyes blinked at me, but I focused on the rows of teeth that snarled unending hunger.
The wolf was settled in an uncomfortable crouch, forever caught between the two legs of his human state and the four of the wolf. His fur was long and shaggy around his head and shoulders, more like a mane, and his front paws hung together as he rested his elbows on his knees. He looked greasy in the wash, the water not quiet soaking him through.
Even crouching, he was at my eye level. His hands—gnarled, useless things with huge, dull claws that looked like melted railroad spikes—started to paw in agitation as he stared at me. My heart began to race again as I realized his hearing and sense of smell were more adept than mine, and he could sense the magic I possessed. He wanted it.
He lunged. The windows gave an unsettling jolt.
“Jette.” A hand landed on my shoulder. I looked sharply back at Nick, finally drawing a breath.
“It’s okay,” I said, taking a step back. The wolf had already disappeared, slinking as silently into the darkness as he had come. “It won’t give. He can’t break it.”
Nick nodded toward the table. I smiled and we walked back over.
Axel was still watching me as I took my seat, ignoring Rogers as he went on about something investment-related.
“They like you,” Axel said. He tipped his drink toward the windows. “It’s hard to believe they were civil once, isn’t it? Just people, like you and me. Now, thanks to the disease, all they have is their baser instincts. They protect themselves first, but they do like you, Ms. Driftwood.”
“Oh, I doubt it’s me.” I forced a laugh and put my well-starched, cream-colored napkin in my lap. “It’s what I stole from the Topaz that they want. Lost wolves are the dragons of the modern world. They covet magic like...”
The table had gone quiet, and no one was looking at me but Nick. I followed the crowd’s gaze back to the window, where I saw no less than five sets of gold and green eyes, each hovering above slobbering jowls. White teeth sparkled against blood-red gums.
I cleared my throat and looked back at Nick. I wasn’t in the mood for romance anymore, but perhaps we would be sharing a room later. Vampires didn’t sleep, after all.
“Fascinating,” Axel said under his breath. “I want her. Name your price, Ms. Driftwood. Nick, I’ll hire you back if you promise to bring her with you. I’ve never seen them stay still for so long.”
Molly’s gaze landed heavy on me, robbing me of my response: fuck no. It was probably for the best I didn’t say it out loud.
The patience written on Nick’s face was god-like. “We’ve been over it, Axel. With everything I know, you can’t afford me anymore.”
Axel flashed a smile, playing with his knife as the maid finished setting out the plates and collected Amos’ silverware, excusing herself to the kitchen. “I bet you do, Warren. You shouldn’t fear for her. The wards on this house are the best living witchcraft has to offer.”
I huffed a laugh. “He’s not wrong.”
“The expert agrees.” Axel turned to me. “Jette, I do hope you’ll at least consider the offer.”
“Leave the girl alone, Axel,” Rogers gave me a kindly smile. “She’s just met the wolves for the first time. Give her a week.”
Molly scoffed. “Oh, for the gods’ sake... Don’t even pretend those beasts can grow on you...”
Skyla and Amos sat at their corner of the table, and they shared a smile as Skyla quietly asked him something. Amos pulled a notebook from the bag slung over the back of his chair an
d flipped it open.
Her voice was just above a whisper. “Show them! It’s wonderful. Show them!”
He caught me staring and sheepishly turned the notebook. It was an incredibly life-like charcoal sketch of a young woman.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his blue eyes striking. “Skyla always loves my drawings, but they’re nothing special.”
Skyla slapped him on the shoulder and he jumped and smiled.
Molly’s eyes snapped to them. “Skyla. Your manners.”
Skyla lifted a finger and a small shockwave of air threatened to undo Molly’s carefully coiffed locks. Molly yipped and tried to hold down her hair until the spell fizzled.
I was shocked to my core.
The spell went sharp.
Skyla was a sharp caster, and two sharp casters in one day—especially when the trait was strongly correlated with genetics—was one coincidence too many.
Molly’s affair with Axel had been going on for a while, then. It wasn’t the first time my gift had given me a taboo insight about the people around me, but it never failed to catch me off guard.
Molly yipped and held down her hair. Amos stifled a grin, I tried to look surprised without appearing too surprised.
“Skyla,” Molly growled in a most unladylike manner.
“I’m sorry,” Amos said in his most falsely apologetic tone. “It was my fault, Mrs. Wolffkyn. I apologize.” Shaina was back, delivering his silverware. “Thank you for going to the trouble.”
Shaina touched him lightly on the shoulder, and Amos’ eyes lingered. “It was no trouble.”
Rogers cleared his throat. Shaina started serving the soup. Axel shook his head as he stared down at the first course.
The rest of the meal was just as stilted and awkward. Skyla and Amos whispered at each other and occasionally laughed at a private joke. Molly glared, Axel ignored, and Rogers carried on most of the conversation by himself.
Investments. Trends. Politics. He was almost as deadly as the wolves.
Nick leaned in to whisper in my ear after we left. “Thank the gods, I didn’t think we were going to survive that.”