by Riley Storm
It rankled Kincaid, knowing that the fault for her involvement lay squarely on his shoulders. He should have dropped her off at the office and come back to report on his own. A simple phone call would have done the trick too, though he preferred to speak in person.
Not that he could bring any of that up now, however, not without implicating the Queen. None of them seemed to know that she’d let him go after being told of the money in his account, though he was sure some could draw conclusions between Haley’s appearance several days earlier, and the goings-on now. Still, none of them had been around to hear Haley say his name, so the Queen was safe. Sort of.
While his own fate was very much up in the air, if the Queen remained on the throne, he could rest easier, knowing she would see to Haley’s safety. That was his first priority right now, getting her out of House Ursa safe and unharmed.
“Well, it should be,” he said, turning his attention back to Kvoss. “Anyone with half a brain could see it.”
In hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have insulted every Title Holder in Ursa who suspected him of being guilty. There were far better ways to explain things, ones that wouldn’t have worked against him. Unfortunately for Kincaid, he’d declined to choose them. Any of them.
“How do you explain then, the fact that you don’t seem surprised at these accusations? Neither you nor Miss Menard, in fact, was overly stunned. I might say that anyone with half a brain would consider that suspicious. Wouldn’t you, Kincaid?”
He gritted his teeth but didn’t say anything. Haley had warned him others would see it that way, that it was, perhaps, the more logical way of viewing it, but he’d been dismissive of just how convinced his opponents would be by those facts. Now, he was paying the price for not having a proper rebuttal in place to defend himself. Kvoss knew it too. He could see the victory on his face.
“I request to be allowed to interrogate the traitor. To discover who he is working with, and any additional traitors he may have inside House Ursa,” Kvoss said, leaning backward.
I’m going to wipe that smug smile off your face the second I’m free, you sonofabitch, Kincaid promised silently.
Kvoss kept smirking, clearly believing himself to be in the right.
The Queen seemed ready to deny the Assassin the request, but Kincaid did a quick headcount and knew she would be forced to acquiesce. Seven of the ten Title Holder positions were currently filled.
Kirell was the only one he was confident would vote against such a proposal. Kvoss and the Queen would essentially abstain. Kive, the Priest, was a friend of Kvoss, and thus would cancel out Kirell’s vote. The Reaver, Magi, and Herald would see no reason to object to Kvoss’ request.
Being in Europe for the past decade, Kincaid had not been present to make any friends with those currently in power. As it turned out, staying off the grid also meant he lacked allies in the political arena. He’d been more than content with that fact, but the changing landscape of House Ursa thanks to the uprising, meant it was now working against him. Kincaid had never expected to need allies, but now he fervently wished he’d at least made some attempt to cultivate friendships.
“It is decided,” the Queen said after a quick headcount. “Kvoss, see what you can find. However,” she added sternly, her iron stare landing on the Assassin. “Keep in mind that while perhaps unlikely, it is possible Kincaid is telling the truth. If we find that to be the case, I expect him to be in a condition to resume his duties after you finish questioning him. Am I understood?”
Kincaid tried not to let his gratitude show. The Queen wasn’t overstepping her boundaries at all. She was the Queen after all, but her position as head of House Ursa was still fragile, and Kincaid knew she did not have many allies among the Title Holders either. Holding back Kvoss would cost her some support in that matter. He hoped it wouldn’t be too much.
Kvoss met the Queen’s gaze, held it for a moment, then nodded. “Very well.” He pointed to the guards and they snatched him by the arms and started dragging him from the room.
“I can walk,” he snarled, ripping himself free. The guards all turned to face them and Kincaid met them with a sneer. Any two of them, he would bet on being able to take. Their only advantage was in numbers, and he intended to drill that fact home.
“Let him walk,” Kvoss said, approaching the group.
They left the Throne Room behind, heading down into the bowels of Ursidae Manor, to one of the interrogation rooms in the prison section. One of the guards opened the door and Kincaid walked inside, holding himself up proudly.
Something hit him in the back and he flew forward, slamming hard into the stone wall.
“What the fuck?” he snarled, but someone—most likely Kvoss—had followed him inside, landing two quick blows to his exposed kidneys without reprieve.
Kincaid dropped to his knees, receiving a kick to the side.
“Traitorous piece of shit,” Kvoss hissed, hauling him to his feet by his neck and hammering a right hook into his stomach.
Air fled from Kincaid’s lungs and he gasped, trying to suck in a breath for a witty retort, but Kvoss kept hitting him, keeping him off balance. Eventually, the Assassin had had his share of petty violence and stepped back, giving Kincaid time to recover.
“I should have known you wouldn’t opt for a fair fight.” He spat, blood spattering the nearby floor. “Too afraid you’d lose in a standup bout.”
“Stand up then,” Kvoss challenged. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“So you can claim I was resisting and trying to escape? No thanks. Ask your questions.”
“Why did you do it?”
Kincaid groaned. “Really? That’s what you’re leading with? I didn’t do anything, you moron. I noticed the extra money in my account and went to Haley, to ask where it came from. We were looking into it, trying to figure out what was up. We came back to talk to the Queen about it, and you arrested us.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Of course not. Why would I ever expect you to believe the truth? You’ve had it in for me for ages, and you’re going to use this to finally extract your ‘grand revenge’ or whatever you’ve been calling it. Any proof I have of my innocence, you’d claim as being doctored, fake news. This is personal for you.” He sat back against the wall.
“Well, if you aren’t going to answer truthfully yet, I suppose I’ll have to keep working on you until you do.”
Kincaid lifted a hand and motioned the other man forward. “Well, come on then. Let’s get it over with. Do your worst.”
He later regretted those last words.
20
The sound of the cell door clanging shut snapped her out of the restless sleep she’d eventually managed to find.
“What? What is it now?” she asked, sitting up, rubbing her eyes blearily.
But there was no one in her cell.
Looking around, she scanned the floor in case someone had dropped her food, but there was nothing present. “Was I hearing things?” she asked aloud, suddenly feeling vulnerable from the silence.
The groan from the cell next to her was so quiet, she almost didn’t hear it. “Hello?” she called from her bed on the far side of the cell—although bed was a generous description for a thin mattress laid out over a concrete slab with a blanket on top. At least it was plenty big enough for her.
Whoever it was groaned again, very obviously in a lot of discomfort. Though they didn’t say any words, she thought she recognized the person behind the noise.
“Kincaid?” she called quietly, getting out of bed and moving to the bars that separated her cell from the next.
They were spaced widely apart, the entire place built to scale for someone Kincaid’s size, and not hers. A smaller human could probably have fit through the bars. As it was, Haley could almost get her head through them. If she really tried, she might be able to force her way through, though it was unlikely.
“Hi,” came the reply from the figure crumpled up on the fl
oor. “Sorry if I woke you.”
She almost laughed at his attempts to cover up the pain he was in with humor. It hurt more deeply than she’d expected to see him treated this way. Anger bloomed in her, a fire she’d not felt before.
“You won’t get away with doing this!” she shouted at the cell door.
“Shh. Please, it was nothing.”
“Nothing?” she exclaimed. The lights were dim, but bright enough that she could make out his battered and bruised body. His shirt was a mess and she could see dark stains on it and on his skin, that had to be dried blood. “They beat the shit out of you.”
“Thanks. I really needed a reminder of that.” Kincaid finally sat up.
Gasping at the site of his thoroughly beaten face, she reached out through the bars to grasp his hand. What doing this would accomplish, she couldn’t say, but it just felt right, like he needed her, needed her support, and she was going to provide it. He dragged himself closer to the bars, and she rested her hand on his shoulder, stroking it gently while he sat hunched over, arms crossed over his head.
Haley hated seeing him like that. Kincaid had been working so hard to clear his name, to prove he was innocent. The strength and conviction of his efforts had gone a long way toward keeping her opinion neutral, if not landing her a little on his side of the fence. He hadn’t really gotten angry over it and was determined to expose whatever was going on—even if that damned him further.
To see them treat him like this bothered her deeply. This wasn’t how someone should be treated, human or shifter. The captors were afraid of being mistreated by humans, but it was clear they did the same to themselves. They couldn’t even give him a chance to prove himself. Instead, they just beat the shit out of him and tossed him in a cell.
“Why did they do this to you?” she asked, curious what the rationale would be.
“Personal vendetta,” he admitted. “Kvoss hates me.”
“Yes, but why?”
“He and the former King were very close. He took offense to the way I challenged him about the old-fashioned nature of how the House was run shortly after the King came to power.”
“And how long ago was that?”
“Twelve years,” Kincaid answered.
“He’s hated you for that for twelve years?”
“Oh no, much longer than that.” Despite the obvious pain in his voice, she thought she detected some humor entering it as well.
“Do I dare ask why?” She was wincing in preparation for the answer before she finished asking the question.
“Promise not to get mad?”
“No. But if it happened that long ago, why would I?”
“Uh.” Kincaid fell silent.
“So, are you going to tell me?”
“Maybe I shouldn’t.”
“Oh please. I’m sure I can handle whatever it is without getting mad.”
Why would she get mad? Haley hadn’t known either of them until days ago. Before that, they were simply folders in her filing cabinet and names on a screen. Nothing more. What was with the sudden hesitation?
“I slept with his sister when we were younger.”
“Oh. That’s it?”
“All three of them. After he told me not to.”
Haley couldn’t help herself. She laughed. A lot. It was cathartic. While she—strangely enough—didn’t enjoy hearing about his past sexual activities, it was all decades ago. She wasn’t sure how old Kincaid was exactly, but he was in his late thirties at least—and everyone was entitled to their own pleasure.
“No wonder he hates you,” she said when she calmed down. “Did you do it out of spite?”
Kincaid shrugged. “Not the first one. We were teenagers, puberty, etc., etc. Then he got really pissy about it. The other two were older, but I made it a mission. He was just mad that he kept getting turned down by women because he was a creep. Personally, I think at least one of the older ones did it to piss him off as well, but I never asked.”
She laughed again, quieter this time. “Wow. And I guess he holds grudges real well.”
“Yeah, I didn’t factor that in at the time.”
Haley’s chest was still bouncing as she enjoyed the humor of it. “No, I doubt you were thinking with your brain at the time.”
“No, maybe not,” he admitted. “And all these years later, he finally gets his revenge.”
“What are the odds he leaves it at that?”
“Few and far between,” Kincaid said without any hesitation. “We’re in big shit here. They think you’re in on it, that you’ve been trying to help me cover it up. I don’t know how long they think they can hold you, but I’d assume they’re gonna terminate your contract with us.”
“If that’s all they do to me, I’ll be fine,” she said. “I can live. What about you?”
He shrugged. “I’m alive for now. That’s something.”
Finally, he looked up at her, and through the swelling of his face, she could see the shame in his eyes. “I’m sorry I got you involved in this, Haley. I should never have done that. This was my problem to fix, and now I’ve dragged you into the middle of it, and you’re going to pay the price.”
“Money isn’t an issue,” she assured him. “This job has paid me extremely well. I could retire and not have to worry. The hit to my pride and ego is recoverable.”
Kincaid looked at the cell doors and the inky darkness beyond the faint cell lights. She followed his gaze but saw nothing. He lifted a hand and crooked a finger at her. Curious, she dropped to her knees, putting her face on the same level as his.
“Make sure you don’t drop any hint you know the truth about us,” he whispered, speaking so softly she struggled to hear all the words and her brain filling in the blanks.
“I won’t,” she assured him, wondering why that was a big deal.
Her face must have given her confusion away because he kept talking.
“Not everyone in Ursa is loyal to Kaelyn,” he explained. “Those who aren’t would take the fact that you know, and twist it against you, and her. I…I can’t be sure what they would do to you if they found out you knew. So just don’t tell them. Okay?”
She nodded, the true depth of the situation she was in starting to dawn. It wasn’t just the accounting contract that she had to worry about being terminated. By the sound of it, if she didn’t play her cards just right, Haley’s life could be in jeopardy as well.
How the hell do people like this operate without the government intervening? They can’t just kidnap citizens and kill them, without anyone noticing…Can they?
She hated to admit it, but it seemed they could. None of the shifters she’d met seemed to be an imbecile. They wouldn’t risk killing her if they weren’t absolutely certain they could get away with it.
Haley felt cold fear slither its way into her belly, coiling around itself as it prepared to strike, sinking its fangs deep, and paralyzing her. She was trapped underground in a cell meant to prevent people like Kincaid from escaping. If someone decided this was to be the end of Haley Menard, there was precious little she could do to stop them.
“I understand,” she said, at last, her eyes searching the darkness outside of the cell for any movement, any telltale sign they were coming for her at last.
“Truly, I am sorry,’ Kincaid repeated. “I thought I had more time…”
“It’ll be okay,” she said, surprising herself. “We’re not done yet.”
Reaching out through the bars, she stroked his skin some more. Her fingers found his shoulder, then glided down that, across the exposed skin, until she found his wrist.
Kincaid turned his arm over slowly, and she placed her hand in his. Giant fingers wrapped around hers, linking their hands in a comfortable, easy touch. Shivers ran up her arm at first, standing every hair on end, but those were quickly beaten aside by the warmth of his grip. Everywhere his skin touched hers, heat started to transfer, making its way up her forearm, through her bicep and shoulder before slowly spreading out int
o her core.
Eventually, Haley lifted her gaze from where they held hands. She found his eyes waiting for her, the gunmetal blue softened and pooling, like butter slowly melting. His soul yawned open, sucking her in as his defenses gave way.
Haley wasn’t sure she could have fought it. Or if she even wanted to.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
21
“For what?”
She reached out, resting her other hand on his shoulder, uncurling her fingers so she could gently brush them against his cheek, mindful of the bruising.
“For doubting you,” she said, watching his face, their eyes still locked together. “For being rude to you. This is kind of all my fault.”
Even in her own mind, she had a hard time following the twisted logic to come to that conclusion. She’d only been doing her job, but right then, in the moment, she felt guilty for bringing all this upon him.
And just what could you have done differently? You’re only feeling that because you have a measure of his character now. You didn’t have that before.
“This isn’t your fault,” Kincaid said, his voice harder than her own internal one.
He didn’t let go of her hand as he spoke. Instead, he gave it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s not my fault either, okay? You were just doing your job. This is the fault of the traitor in my house.”
Something sounded in the hallway outside, and she spun to the right. Kincaid kept a tight grip on her left hand. The grinding of stone on stone increased in noise for a few more seconds, and then a wall across from them slid open, brighter light spilling into their area.
A giant black bear padded through the opening. It stopped to sniff at the cells, growling low in her direction. Brown eyes tinged with just enough red to give them a crazed look swung in her direction. The nose worked frantically, looking back and forth between the pair of them.