by Riley Storm
Haley walked around to her door and slid in, buckling up as he fired up the engine. “Kincaid,” she said, and for the first time, he heard uncertainty in her voice.
“Yes?”
“How much trouble am I in now I know the truth?”
Frowning, he stayed silent, guiding the SUV into the street and making a beeline for the edge of town. “For knowing? Not much,” he admitted. “I’m honestly somewhat surprised you hadn’t already been informed, considering how close you work with us. It would probably have made doing your job easier. I would hazard a guess that’s the work of our former King. He was a very secretive sort.”
“Why do I feel like I’m still in some danger?” Haley was looking over at him, concern writ all over her face and into her eyes.
“We don’t take well to people sharing details of our true nature,” he said, picking each word carefully.
“Why Kincaid, that sounds like a politely-worded death threat. Either that or I’ve watched too many thriller movies.”
She giggled, but he remained silent, and slowly the laughter faded.
“I wouldn’t tell anyone if I were you,” he said heavily, trying to put as much weight into his words as possible without making them too harsh.
“I’m not an idiot,” she snapped. “Just because I’m only an accountant doesn’t mean I haven’t thought through the consequences of your secret getting out, or of all the people out there that would want to get their hands on your DNA—to copy it, to take advantage of it. If just one wrong person…” she trailed off. “Sorry, you probably know all this and have to think about it on a daily basis. I…I didn’t mean to bring it up like that.”
“It’s fine,” he said dismissively. “You get sort of inured to it after a certain amount of time to worry about being discovered. The truth is, most of the world doesn’t want to know about us. There are videos online, of rash members being caught. Not many, and not great videos. But everyone always brushes them off. A hoax, they say. Like Bigfoot. Or these days they call it CGI.”
“Bigfoot?”
“Want to know the real story? It’s not that exciting.”
“Wait. You know the real story of Bigfoot?”
He chuckled. “Distant family relative.”
“You’re related to Bigfoot?” Haley was leaning forward, her hands on the dash, mouth wide open.
“No!” he sighed. “Well, yes. Except Bigfoot isn’t real. It was just one of us, caught midway in the change, running across a field into the forest. Piss drunk, I might add.”
Haley was laughing now. “That makes so much more sense!”
Kincaid smiled. He enjoyed the sound of her laughter. It was refreshing, uplifting to his spirits, and precisely what he needed to keep going, to push through and clear his name before word got out.
“So why are we going back to your house?” Haley asked, bringing the subject back around. “What are you hoping to find there?”
“My Queen. I want to inform her of what we’ve found, and our suspicions. Keep her informed, but also to see if she has any other thoughts. Anything we’ve missed. She’s a wise woman.”
“What have we found?” Haley asked slowly. “And you mean your suspicions. I don’t have any. I’m neutral in this, remember?”
Kincaid glanced over at her, letting his doubt show. She could pretend not to care all she wanted, but he wasn’t going to act like he bought it. Her acting wasn’t that good.
“I am!” she protested half-heartedly. “Now spill.”
“You know this already. We’ve found that Granted Holdings is more important to Canis than we thought. Encountering a full-blooded Canim there is unusual, and it means either they expected us to go there, or they permanently have a guard there. Either way, that needs to be noted by more than just you and me.”
“Okay. I’ll buy that. What else?”
“We think there’s a connection between Krawll and whoever is trying to get rid of me. We don’t know if it’s the Canim or not, all we know is the restaurant has something to do with it.”
Haley shook her head. “No, you don’t know any of that. You can’t prove it. Maybe he did a favor for the owner of the restaurant?”
Kincaid was speaking almost before she finished. “A generic ‘family restaurant’ like that does not make three million dollars a year gross, let alone in profit that they can spare. Tell me that nothing about that smells a little fishy to you?”
“I admit, it seems unusual,” she said after a moment. “But not enough that I’m willing to say it has anything to do with you.”
“Fine. It does, but you do you and keep thinking that. Either way, this should be enough to at least shed some doubt on my situation.”
Haley was quiet for several long seconds. “Or it makes it worse. It could make it look like you’re fully in league with them. It confirms that Granted Holdings is an important Canis operation, and they funded you. That’s pretty damning for people who aren’t inclined to give you the benefit of the doubt.”
Bristling at the challenge to his loyalty, Kincaid tried to keep his calm. Haley was just playing devil’s advocate. She wasn’t saying he was a traitor, just pointing out how it looked to some people.
“You’re right,” he said gruffly. “Though I’m trying not to think of that.”
Haley reached out and patted his arm gently, her fingers lingering longer than he would have expected. Then, to his surprise, they dragged up and down as she gently stroked his arm for two or three seconds. “It’ll be okay, Kincaid,” she said softly.
But his mind was still on his forearm as it continued to tingle from her touch, long after she’d taken her hand away.
Now, what the hell does that mean?
18
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” she said, staring out the window in awe.
She didn’t have her face pressed to the glass, but it was pretty darn close. The mansion was huge. So huge, that mansion really didn’t do it justice. Palatial was the only way to describe the building that revealed itself after a miles-long drive through forested lands to get there.
“There is a certain charm to it, isn’t there?”
“Charm?” She shook her head, staring at the sprawling building. “Size, yes. It’s so big, it must feel almost haunted. So much space.”
“Not nearly enough sometimes,” Kincaid muttered.
She mulled that over. “Okay, I suppose if everyone is the size of you, and has to accommodate a matching ego, it might feel a bit tight.”
Kincaid didn’t say anything.
“You probably need it. If there’s a bunch of huge horrible beasts wandering around, you don’t want territorial fights I guess.”
The growl from the driver’s seat was unexpected. “We’re not beasts, Haley. Even in animal form, we’re in total control. It’s still us. Still me.”
She tore her gaze away from the looming manor, noticing for the first time the hurt on his face. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to insult you. That’s not what I was going for.”
“It’s okay. I’m used to it,” he said, trying to sound tough.
It didn’t disguise the fact it was a lie, but she let it slide. She’d done enough damage and didn’t want to do more. Her focus was still on him as he brought the car up to the front entrance, and so she was able to see him visibly tense up.
“What’s wrong?” she asked automatically
“Nothing,” he said, his voice still deep, but this time, the toughness was all real. “I’m just not particularly fond of the asshole standing outside.”
Swinging her head around, she caught sight of a tall male, broad shoulders and big build, much like Kincaid. Unlike him, however, the newcomer’s hair was long, black and braided, falling well past his shoulders. Thick black eyebrows and a goatee he probably thought of as fancy added to the contrast of his fair skin. He seemed somewhat familiar, but she couldn’t place him.
“Who is he?” she asked.
&nb
sp; “The Ass…an ass,” Kincaid replied. “He’s a dick, but the Queen likes him for some reason.”
“The Queen likes you too,” she teased.
The stairs to the front door rose up on their right as they drove under the giant awning covering much of the ground, but Kincaid was slow to hit the brakes, forcing the big man with the braid to step aside, disdain on his face.
“Don’t antagonize him,” she chided. “Right now, you need all the friends you can get until this is over.”
“He’s not and will never be my friend.”
“Right, and all the others?” she asked, as more men came filing out of the house.
“Yeah,” Kincaid said, but his voice was distracted.
Something was wrong. Alarms started going off in her head, but there was nothing they could do now. She got out, Kincaid doing the same.
“We’re here to see the Queen,” he said calmly, projecting his voice.
Eight more men in total joined the man Kincaid hated, fanning out on either side of them.
“Kincaid?” she asked nervously, unsure of what was going on.
“What’s the meaning of this Kvoss?”
She wanted to go over to him, to hold Kincaid back, but the additional men all had a firm set to their jaw that showed they meant business. Whatever was happening, it was going to happen. There wasn’t anything she could do about it.
“Get these men out of here, Kvoss. I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing, but it’s not cute. Understood?”
The man with the braid finally spoke. “Kincaid, you are under arrest.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“What?!” Kincaid roared, taking a step closer, getting right into the face of Kvoss. “What the hell is the charge?”
“Treason.”
Haley cursed. They had come back to the manor to report in on what they’d found, to discuss the next steps with the Queen. Instead, Kincaid was getting himself arrested, putting any hope of proving his innocence in extreme jeopardy.
“I’m sorry, Haley,” Kincaid said, barely able to constrain his anger as the other anonymous men stepped in close, clearly there to act as an escort in case he tried anything violent. “I’ll figure this out. Please, go talk to the Queen. Then come find me. I assume I’ll get a fair trial.”
Kvoss flicked a finger at her. “You two, escort Miss Menard to the Throne Room.”
The two indicated detached themselves from Kincaid’s group and came over to flank her. Neither said a word, but she got the idea that trying to do anything but go with them would be bad.
“Miss Menard,” Kvoss said politely. “If you would be so kind as to remain our guest for a while, we would appreciate it.”
“Kvoss! What the hell do you think you’re doing? Let her go. You have no authority over her.”
Kvoss motioned for the men with him to follow, and he headed inside.
This was the second time in forty-eight hours that Haley had been inside the massive main hallway of the manor, but this time, she didn’t feel like an honored guest. This time, she felt like a prisoner. There was no wait at the Throne Room doors either. She was ushered inside, along with Kincaid, and the massive metal panels now swung closed behind them with a ringing finality.
Kvoss walked across the open floor and to the raised stone dais at the back, taking a seat. All of a sudden, Haley recalled she’d seen him there the first time she’d come to this chamber. Whoever he was, he held some actual authority within the House.
“Kincaid. Miss Menard.” The Queen spoke in slow, measured tones, inclining her head ever so slightly at Haley while remaining dispassionately neutral toward Kincaid.
“Why am I here?” she asked, surprising herself by the boldness of her speaking without being addressed. Around her, the guards shuffled uneasily as well.
Good. Just because they happen to act like some sort of aristocratic tribe from five hundred years ago, does not mean that I must. They don’t know I am aware of their secret, and thus they have no actual power over me. So, damn their rules.
“You are here,” Kvoss said, speaking up. “Because you are charged with aiding and abetting Kincaid in his treason against House Ursa.”
Haley sputtered and protested, trying to form a coherent argument, but the surprise was too great. Her, a traitor? And charged how? These were not men of the law. They could not do this to her! Looking around at the size of the men, she wondered if they would listen if she said she was walking out of there or calling the police.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snapped. “I am simply an accountant. I—” She had been about to tell Kvoss and the other assembled nobles—or whatever they thought of themselves—that she had been under the orders of the Queen, but a strange glance from Kaelyn quelled that last protest.
Her eyebrows narrowed. Was the Queen…pleading with her? Begging her not to speak, not to reveal that she’d already been in contact and had essentially ordered Haley to assist, or else she would lose her job? Why would she want her to refrain from saying that now?
Obviously, the queen was hiding things from the others in the court. House. Or, whatever the hell the right term was, she thought, angrily.
Of course. If the others found out that the Queen already knew about this, then she would be in a world of trouble as well. Her position must not be all that secure if she cannot simply overrule the others.
Haley wondered why she should aid the Queen if the Queen wasn’t willing to aid her? This was wrong on so many levels, but there was no way for her to protest, to reach out to the proper authorities. She still had a cell phone in her pocket but going for it now would result in them taking it away.
Her eyes strayed to the men standing just behind the Queen, and the blades they had strapped to their hips. Blades that, to her untrained eye at least, looked to be sharp and practical, not just for show.
The more she truly looked, the more Haley began noticing just how dangerous of a situation she was in. These men obviously took everything extremely seriously. The fact they hadn’t seemed to hesitate in taking her, a human, into custody, without pretending to be real law enforcement in any way, showed they simply didn’t care. They could get away with whatever they wanted. She had to be careful before things got worse.
“Very well,” the Queen said eventually, after deliberating the words. “The evidence has already been presented to me. I find I must agree. Guards, please take Miss Menard out. Keep in mind she is not to be harmed. Do I make myself clear?”
The two men on either side of her snapped to attention so fast she jerked in surprise. “Understood, my Queen.” One of them looked at her. “Miss Menard, follow me.”
It was a command, not a request.
Haley looked over at Kincaid, her eyes pleading with him to do something. The last thing she wanted was to be separated from him, taken to who knew where in a House the size of a castle, with hundreds of huge shapeshifters standing between her and freedom.
But she couldn’t see him, the cordon of guards blocking her view as she was led from the room. Although she’d not really maintained hope, the guards didn’t take her back down the main hallway to the car and set her free. Instead, they escorted her through a maze of hallways that quickly had her lost, until they descended several levels into an area where the walls were made of stone, and the warmth of the rooms above had faded several degrees.
Then they efficiently frisked her, removed her cell phone, purse and keys, before showing her into what could only be called a prison cell. Thick metal bars lined two of the walls, the front, and one side, with stone to her left and across the back. There was a small cot, an exposed toilet, and nothing more.
“Luxury living,” she said bitterly, sitting uneasily on the bed.
Until recently, her greatest fear had been screwing up so badly she’d lose House Ursa as a client. Her only client. With the reality of her situation sinking in, she knew things were now worse.
Much, much worse.
19
“Let her go,” he said, pushing aside the guards the instant Haley was out of the chamber.
They rushed to restrain him, and the Queen’s Guard stepped forward, hands on the hilts of their swords, but he wasn’t trying to attack. Kincaid simply did not wish to speak while surrounded by Kvoss’ thugs.
At first, he’d thought the men arresting him were soldiers, but after getting his initial anger under control, he’d realized they weren’t anything of the sort. Kirell knew him better than that; he’d probably refused to participate in this charade. So, Kvoss had used his own men. Though the position of Assassin suggested a sole operator, the truth was that a small group of shifters supported him. Aides, assistants, and backup. The latter was what formed his current prison detail.
The real question for him wasn’t who the men reported to, but who had perpetrated this charade? Which of the Title Holders had come forward with the evidence against him? How had they discovered it, he wondered? Or had they been fed the information straight from Canis itself?
“Not until we find out how much she knows,” Kvoss said calmly. “Once she divulges what information she knows and how she helped you, she will be free to go.”
Kincaid rolled his eyes. “Seriously? She doesn’t know anything.”
“So, you did it all your own?” Kvoss asked, leaning forward in his stone chair.
“I didn’t do anything, you dunderhead. I’m being framed. Isn’t that obvious?”
Kvoss shook his head. “No, I’m afraid it’s not.”
Gritting his teeth, Kincaid tried to remain cool. As much as he and Kvoss hated each other, he truly doubted the Assassin was a traitor. The man was just as loyal to House Ursa. Unlike Kincaid, however, he had allowed his feelings on the other man to cloud his judgment.
Kincaid knew how that felt, because he knew, on some level, he was doing the same thing with Haley. He was letting his feelings toward her cloud his judgment on how involved he let her get in the case, a fact that had just been starkly pointed out to him when she was taken from the Throne Room and likely tossed into a jail cell if Kvoss had any say in it. The Assassin wasn’t one for diplomatic niceties either.