by Riley Storm
Rachel seemed to be able to manage that just fine, though she didn’t have the energy or strength of a shifter, and they had more than exerted themselves throughout what had remained of the night. She needed the sleep. He was operating on reserves.
“And a load of good they’re doing,” he snarled, irritated at himself for not having a plan. Not just a good plan, but any plan.
Passing by the kitchen, he pondered stopping, seeing if brain food would help. But his legs kept him going down another corridor, pausing briefly at the Grand Hallway to nod in greeting to a pair of guards as they patrolled the long entryway to the Manor.
At six in the morning, the place was mostly asleep, very few shifters stirring. The guard patrols would be changing shortly, and the night shift headed for their beds. He couldn’t blame them, and wished he could do the same. But he’d been up for an hour before even leaving his room, not wanting to risk disturbing Rach with his normal tossing and turning.
Much of his irritation stemmed from the reports he’d received after checking in with Kirell. As Captain of the House, Kirell handled much of the intelligence apparatus as well, including issues with their holdings in Plymouth Falls. It had been Kirell who’d informed Khove that while he and Rachel were sleeping after an intimate, peaceful night, more attacks had taken place in town. All because he’d allowed himself to indulge in the pleasures of the flesh!
Okay, so it’s more than that with Rachel. It doesn’t matter. I should have waited until after this was over.
What angered him most about it, however, was that despite his desire to do something about it, he felt impotent. Knowing that Korred would no longer hesitate to send the Fae against them, Khove had decided to bring his own weapons into the city. They had moved beyond human laws now, and he needed to be able to respond.
A pair of uranium-tipped blades and—with Rachel equipped with similar bullets that would spew radiated dust upon impact—he could keep the magical creatures at bay. The radiation broke the bonds of magic, including those of creatures summoned from another plane of existence. No Fae could resist its touch.
Even with that, however, he still needed a way to strike back at Korred, to track the Traitor down and kill him once and for all. And yet despite the simplicity of what needed to be done, Khove was drawing a complete and utter blank. Unless the Traitor decided to show his face, they would always be playing catch-up.
Not to mention we’re running out of time as well, Khove. You need to find him and end him. Soon.
The longer he was allowed to operate unchecked, the more his power would grow. Everyone knew it was only a matter of time before he assaulted Ursidae Manor again, and this time, he would have the strength to back it up. The thing Khove feared the most was that he would fail to stop such a thing from happening.
Lost deep in his thoughts, he didn’t hear the footsteps approaching at the next intersection, and Khove walked full-speed into the other shifter. Neither of them was expecting the impact, but Khove was moving with a purpose and the other shifter hit the ground, the surprise body-check catching him completely unprepared.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Khove said, stepping forward and extending his hand to help the other up.
“Got something on your mind?” Kincaid, the Hunter of House Ursa asked as he stood up, brushing himself off.
“Just all this business with Korred,” he growled. “I need to find a way to rid myself of him before it’s too late, but the jerk isn’t’ showing himself. He’s just operating through his lackeys, it seems.” He waved a hand. “Not your problem though.”
He frowned then, holding his hand up in place as just who he was talking to registered. This was Kincaid. The Hunter was often blessed with visions of the strings of fate that linked mates to one another.
Yet he hadn’t come to Khove to talk about Rachel.
“Can I ask you something?”
Kincaid shrugged. “Sure, why not? I’m not your boss, Khove, just spit it out already.”
“Right. Um.” He hesitated.
Until now, Khove had steadfastly refused to think too hard along these lines. Rachel was definitely someone he enjoyed spending time with and having around, but he’d had those sorts of connections before. Was finding out that she was his mate really the way he wanted to proceed just now?
What if Kincaid said yes? Then suddenly the mission to find the Traitor took on an entirely new perspective. How was he supposed to let her go after someone that dangerous when he knew she was his mate, the sole person he would spend the rest of his days with. Letting her run into danger in that case would be ridiculous.
Then there were so many other things to consider, like how did he go about telling her, and where would they go from here? Were kids something she saw in her future? What about moving to the Manor, would Rach have any interest in that? He couldn’t predict her thoughts and feelings, especially considering she was still ingesting the truth about the world around her.
Another thought struck him. What if Kincaid said no, revealing that Rachel wasn’t his mate, that she was just another human, one destined to come into his life and leave it just as swiftly. How would Khove handle that revelation?
The fear he associated with that thought told Khove all he needed to know about his own feelings and desires related to the issue. He didn’t see Rachel as his mate yet, but there was a lot to like about her. A lot he wanted in a mate.
“Is this about that woman you brought back from the city?” Kincaid asked, breaking the silence.
“Maybe,” Khove admitted. Steeling himself, he forged ahead. “Have you seen anything? About her and me, I mean? Like, are we tied together? Have the fates shown you that we’re linked?” He clamped his mouth shut.
Rambling on like that wouldn’t be helpful. Kincaid knew what he was talking about, so phrasing it in six different ways wasn’t going to help.
“I wish I could say that I had,” Kincaid said gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. “But I don’t see anything for you. Not yet, at least. That doesn’t mean it’s not there. The fates work in mysterious ways. They don’t communicate with me, and I often see things at the same time you do. Only every so often am I blessed to see the strings.”
Khove nodded. “It must be difficult.”
The other shifter smiled. “There are times, yes, where it can be painful, or embarrassing. But then there are times where I see things forming before others do.” His eyes strayed to the center of the Manor to where the Throne Room lay, taking on a distant glow that was anything but natural. “Like now, in the very heart of our home, I see two strings that were once cut mending themselves. Together. It is beautiful to see how the shared hurt helps them become one.”
“Wait,” he said, frowning. “I thought shifters only mated once? That’s what we’ve always been told, Kincaid.”
The Hunter shrugged. “Like I said, I don’t control it, I only observe. But I mean, if you want to be the one to tell her she’s not allowed to be happy again, feel free. But personally, I’m not one for upsetting my boss, and I don’t think you are either.”
Khove’s eyebrows shot through the roof as Kincaid’s implications became clear. “She’s finding love?” he asked. “Again, I mean?”
“From the most unusual of sources,” Kincaid said with a wink. “All it takes is a spark sometimes.” His eyes lost the glow and focused on Khove once more. “Is there a spark between you and this woman?”
“Yes,” Khove said instantly, thinking of Rachel. “We just…work. It’s hard to explain, but we do.”
Kincaid smiled. “Good. I don’t see every pair, but from what I’ve learned, it all starts with that spark. No need to stress over it.”
“I don’t think I am doing?” Khove said, wondering if perhaps he was stressing more than he thought.
“Well you look—right, of course. Korred.” The Hunter shook his head. “Sorry, I get distracted sometimes.”
“It’s fine,” Khove said, waving it off. “But yes. I need to f
ind him before he strikes the Manor again, and I can’t find him because he just keeps using his goons.” He growled, slamming a meaty fist into his palm.
Kincaid cocked his head. “Why don’t you just go after his lackeys then? Take them out of play, and then Korred himself will have to intervene.”
Khove tried unsuccessfully to keep his jaw from dropping open. “How did I not think of something so simple?” he growled, furious at himself for overlooking such a basic tactic.
“Because you know that Korred is the true danger here,” Kincaid said gently. “You were focused on that. It happens to the best of us.”
Khove was nodding repeatedly, his brain spinning up now as he started thinking of all sorts of ways to rid themselves of the human thugs Korred was employing. Many options were opening up now. All of which led to Korred, and the closing of this chapter of House Ursa’s history.
Once the Traitor was well and truly dead, they could begin to heal, to act as one, once more. It was past time they cut out the cancer plaguing his family.
And Korred knew just how to do it.
He clapped the Hunter on the shoulder. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “It may have seemed simple to you, but it’s helped me immensely.”
Kincaid shrugged. “Best of luck. I wish I could be freed to help, but the Queen has decreed that we must all remain here to keep the Manor defended. You’re on your own this time.”
Shaking his head, Khove headed off, back to his quarters. “No, I’m not,” he said fiercely.
Although he’d been hoping to find a way to keep her out of this, it was becoming clear to Khove that he couldn’t. Analyzing situations like this was Rachel’s specialty, and she would have told him what to do if he’d just asked her. But now he had a plan, and the two of them were going to be Korred’s downfall.
Together.
28
“Do you really think they’ll fall for this?” Rachel asked, her voice barely carrying the eight feet to where he stood, his back to the wall.
“I don’t see how they can’t,” he replied, equally quiet. “Korred’s entire mission is to destroy House Ursa thoroughly, since he can no longer control it. One of the best ways to do that, is to bankrupt us.”
“But he must know this is a trap,” she said, falling silent as footsteps approached.
Two humans muttered among themselves as they used industrial dollies to cart in boxes. The truck shook around Rachel as the heavy crates were stacked into place. The back of the armored truck was getting cramped as the bank guards loaded it full of gold. Both she and Khove were hidden at the back, one against either wall.
Their vision of what was happening outside was blocked by the shelving units affixed to both walls. It provided them with cover, but also prevented them from seeing out. Rachel didn’t like operating blind, but she had to admit, this was a hell of a plan.
“I didn’t know this much gold existed in Plymouth Falls,” she muttered as the guards left and went back for another load.
“We have special arrangements with the bank’s manager,” Khove explained, talking as if that was a common occurrence.
She shook her head. Of course they did. The Ursa family, clan, whatever, was proving to be far more powerful and wealthy than she’d imagined was possible. The sheer number of businesses and properties they owned and operated in Plymouth Falls was staggering. Now this? A casual arrangement for the bank to store an unimaginable amount of gold?
“How will they believe this isn’t a trap?” she asked, ears open, listening for any unusual sounds, including the guards returning. Nobody knew the two of them were in the back, or that a special police team had been waiting inside the bank all day, arriving in ones and twos and simply never leaving.
They were prepared. The trap was set. Now they just needed Korred to send his lackeys to try and take the truck.
“He knows it’s standard procedure,” Khove said, head turning slightly to the rear of the truck. “They’ve been waiting for this to happen, trust me.” He frowned. “You know, this might have been what he was trying to ensure would happen when he attacked our businesses to begin with.”
Rachel absorbed that information, thinking it through.
A clang outside the truck caught both their attention. She mouthed a question at Khove.
What was that?
He shrugged and pointed at the front, in the direction of the noise, but other than that, they had no idea what was going on out there. Someone grunted, and then the truck rocked slightly as something hit it behind her. Rachel swayed but the blow wasn’t strong enough to send her flying.
“Nicely done,” a voice said from the rear. “Look at all these boxes of gold. The boss is sure going to be happy with us!”
Rachel’s hand dropped to her hip, resting on the butt of her pistol, ready to draw at a moment’s notice. Looking across at Khove, she saw him shake his head ever so slightly.
Not yet, he mouthed, then said something else she didn’t catch, but his point was clear. Let them relax before we jump them.
“You two go inside, see how much more there is. I’m going to call the boss.”
Rachel straightened in alarm. Her men weren’t prepared to deal with Korred, not if he was anywhere near as dangerous as Khove said he was. They needed to stop him from making that call.
Glancing at Khove, she saw the same look on his face. They nodded, and she pressed a button on the radio. It sent a single click, the pre-arranged signal for the men inside to move in.
“Police!” she shouted a second later, weapon coming up to point down the length of the armored truck as she and Khove advanced on the sole figure outlined at the exit.
“Shit,” he spat, looking up in alarm and throwing himself to the side in an attempt to get out of her line of fire.
He disappeared to the side and she gave chase. Khove beat her to the exit, and he went right, after the criminal. Trusting her partner to get his man, Rachel called out she was going left, aiming to clear that side of things.
From inside the bank itself, she heard shouts as the rest of her team mobilized after the men who’d gone inside. More shouting came, and then she jerked as gunfire exploded from inside the bank.
Shit! This was not how it was supposed to go down. Cautiously, she crept around the far side of the truck, aware now that these men would resort to lethal violence if she cornered them.
A figure swept in out of the darkness to her right, from the loading dock. A blow to her arm sent her gun spinning off into the night.
Rachel didn’t stay still. Rolling away, she came to her feet in a fighting pose, legs spread, weight evenly balanced, hands staggered in front of her. The man who lunged at her struck wildly, and with a strength she couldn’t match, but it didn’t matter. He was untrained.
She blocked blows and turned aside others as he tried to use his size and strength to win the fight quickly. He hit her hard and she staggered back under the left hook as he bulled right through her defenses.
Unfortunately for him, he paused to gloat, thinking it over, and Rachel’s foot lashed out, bashing his knee in from the side. Something made a disgusting sound as it gave way and his knee suddenly bent out to the side. The unknown thug screamed in pain, only to double down when she delivered a heel to his groin.
Rachel got to her feet, still in a defense posture, but he was done. She swept in close and planted her knee in his jaw. His eyes rolled back and he slumped to the ground.
“You’re under arrest,” she pronounced, reading him his rights as the rest of the team came out of the bank, two more at gunpoint. Dottner and two others fanned out to clear the rest of the area, but all they found were the unconscious guards.
“Everyone all right, Sheriff?” she called urgently. “I heard shots.”
“These idiots couldn’t hit the broad side of an industrial barn,” Dottner replied, but she could hear the relief in his voice. It had been closer than he was letting on. “No injuries to report, two prisoners secured.
>
“Good,” she snapped, finishing putting cuffs on her victim and looking around the parking lot.
“Khove!” she called, not seeing her partner. “Where are you? Do you need backup?”
There wasn’t a reply, but then she spied movement near the front of the armored truck.
“All clear,” Khove called. “Everything is fine.”
“It is not fine!” a voice shrieked, and Rachel was forced to muffle a laugh as Khove came back into view, holding the apparent ringleader by the ankle. His casual strength was on display as he walked over to the rest of the police team.
“Let me go!” the thug all but shrieked. “This is inhumane treatment. Cruel and inhumane! I demand you put me down.”
This time, Rachel did laugh as the thug crossed his arms and stared up at Khove, who shrugged and promptly let go. With his arms the way they were, there was nothing to slow him down and she watched with immense satisfaction as the ringleader dropped onto his head and collapsed into a pile while her officers closed in and cuffed him.
“Nice work, Detective,” the Sheriff said, coming up to her, holding out her sidearm. “Excellent plan.”
She stood and holstered the weapon. “Thank you, sir, but it wasn’t my plan. I’d love to take credit, but this one belongs all to Khove, much as it peeves me to admit it—knowing I’ll have to deal with his inflated ego for the next ever.”
Dottner laughed and held out a hand, shaking first hers and then Khove’s. Behind him, the parking lot out back of the bank lit up as more units and EMS moved in to secure the scene. “Well done indeed. The both of you.”
Rachel was feeling proud. Happy. Dottner gave her another approving nod and then marched his men and their prisoners into the waiting transports.
“Are you okay?” Khove asked, coming up to stand at her side.
“Fine,” she said, shaking her wrist. “I’ve got a few bruises. I’m mostly stiff everywhere, and that asshole’s chop is going to leave a mark on my wrist, but I’m in one piece,” she assured him.