by S. Young
“—listening to a young man with no affiliation to the Center tell us of your plan to kill Marita and ask us to make you Head of the Daylight Coven to gain control of both Midnight and Daylight trace, all with the intent to perform a rite soliciting the aid of the gods to remove the trace from the supernatural world, thus freeing its inhabitants.”
It sounded really cool when he said it.
“Is this or is this not true?”
Caia nodded. “Yes, sir, it is.” She almost flinched when she realized her voice was just as loud. There must have been a speaker spell of some kind on the room.
A rumble of murmurings followed before De Jong gestured for them to be quiet.
“Such a request would have been completely dismissed if not for the support given by not only Saffron, one of our most trusted and experienced shapeshifters, but also Vanne, who has helped lead this coven in war for decades. These are supernaturals who have sacrificed many things for the cause, and now they are risking their good name for you. Why? Why should we believe you, a girl of Midnight blood, a girl who has been thrown out of her own pack, who has aided and abetted the escape of a young female Midnight imprisoned at this Center, who trusts the words of a Midnight Prophet, and who hides out in the home of the former Regent of the Midnight Coven?”
Caia had to stop her mouth from dropping open. She glanced up at Reuben who gave a barely perceptible shrug. The son of a bitch had told them everything and hadn’t even had the decency to warn her first. She stiffened and met De Jong’s gaze. He was making it sound like she was a traitor.
“If Reuben has revealed all of this to you, then he must have explained the circumstances.”
“Yes.” Benedict smirked. “Nikolai Petrovsky is a double agent. The Prophet is neither Midnight nor Daylight at heart, and Laila is—”
“The purest soul I’ve ever met,” Caia interrupted, squaring her shoulders and blasting him with a ferocious look.
Gasps echoed around the room.
Benedict curled his lip into a sneer. “A Midnight … pure? Please do not tell me you still believe this nonsense that there are ‘good’ Midnights.”
She wanted to punch the arrogant bastard. She sneered right back at him. “It isn’t nonsense. There are good Midnights. Many of them.”
More gasps. Great.
The warlock glared at her. “I rather doubt it.”
“Between the two of us, last I checked I was the one who has the trace, so you can stand up there with your 99 percent certainty of doubting it. But I stand up here 100 percent knowing there are Midnights out there who don’t believe in the war.” She turned, letting her voice carry to the spectators on the benches. She glimpsed the familiar faces of Desi and Ophelia and the other Center friends she’d made. “The trace has kept this war alive far longer than it ever should have!” She spun slowly back to face Benedict, determined. “Let me go after Marita. If I kill her, make me the Head of this coven, and I will free us from the trace. It is the first step to ending this war. I don’t just believe that,” she stated assuredly, “I know it. I know it with every fiber of my being.”
The magik clenched his jaw. “Your word is not enough. Neither is the word of three other supernaturals—”
“Then let us see.” Penelope stood, looking up into the crowd. “Are there any others who would back Caia?” She smiled softly. “Outside of the Council, that is.”
Benedict glared at the interruption. “That is pointless. She would need at least twenty others of significant background.”
Caia wondered if that was a jab at the Travelers. People were kind of snobby about them since they couldn’t really do powerful spells, but they could use a communication spell to take them anywhere in the world, regardless of whether they’d ever been there before.
Penelope shrugged. “She is afforded the right of demonstration.”
The Council looked to the crowd expectantly, and Caia wanted to die. It was like being in high school with humans all over again, waiting to see if anyone would sit with her at lunch or ask to be her lab partner when they were told to pair up. No one ever did.
The sound of wood creaking lifted her gaze off Benedict as Reuben, Saffron, and Vanne made their way toward her in the center of the room. They smiled reassuringly, Vanne squeezing her shoulder as they took their places behind her. The next person was a surprise because Caia hadn’t realized she was at the Center: Phoebe MacLachlan. The statuesque beauty strode across the room self-assuredly, her expression as serious as always.
Caia smiled gratefully at her, and Phoebe nodded before turning to the Council. “My vote of confidence in Caia is shared by all members of my pack, including its Alpha, Alistair MacLachlan. That is approximately fifty other lykans, Mr. De Jong.”
The magik paled slightly. “Well …”
But before he could argue, the noise of people standing from their seats drowned him out. Caia watched in amazement as Desi and Ophelia led eight other Travelers to her side. Michael Brown, the Head of the Second Unit of vampyres, descended the stairs with most of his unit in tow. He smirked at Lyla, the Head of the Third Unit of lykans, as she came along the aisle to meet him, lykans trailing at her back. Others crossed the room, all faces Caia recognized as the people she’d conversed with during her studies here at the Center. Altogether at least sixty people stood at her back.
De Jong stared in utter shock.
Penelope smiled. “I think this is proof enough that Caia is trusted among many here at the Center and that many are looking for the promise of change. Which means the Council will take this to a vote. Excuse us while we convene in the chambers below.”
Silently they made their way downstairs.
“Well done, Caia.” Reuben grinned and drew her into a surprising hug. He pulled back and stroked her cheek affectionately. “Not just a pretty face.”
She rolled her eyes at him and turned to speak with Phoebe, thanking her for her support. The lykan stood vigilantly by her side as Caia spoke with everyone who’d taken to the platform in favor of her plan. It was overwhelming and unbelievable and yet … undeniably wonderful.
As Desi and Ophelia giggled and hugged her, a moving realization hit. It would appear she wasn’t quite so alone after all.
The crowd dispersed, everyone reluctantly finding their seats among the rows again as the Council reentered the hall. Their combined power intrigued Caia, their energy announcing their arrival before she even saw them. Alfred nodded kindly at her as he resumed his seat, and she took hope in the fact that Penelope seemed pleased with herself. Benedict stood up for the Council once more, his expression revealing little.
“Ms. Ribeiro, the Council has voted. The outcome, although not unanimous—”
Yeah, I’ll bet.
“—is in your favor.”
An outburst of hoots and claps came from the Travelers, and Caia was afraid to grin and look over in case it changed the Council’s mind.
“HOWEVER!” Benedict shouted over the noise, causing silence to descend. “You must agree to a blood oath, promising to give up the trace to the gods, as you say is your intention, and not keep it for your own gain.”
She began to speak, to promise that of course she would, when Alfred interrupted quickly. “Caia, you should be made aware of what a blood oath entails first … before agreeing to anything.” He shot Benedict a look of rebuke.
Benedict sneered. “Of course. Ms. Ribeiro, a blood oath is made between yourself and the person you have sworn the promise to. In most cases, this is merely one person. In this instance, you will swear the blood oath to the nine members of this Council.”
OK, that didn’t sound so bad.
“The blood oath acts as a binding spell. If you break your oath to the person you swore it to, then part of your power transfers to that person.” He smiled wickedly. “Usually, it is not that detrimental to a person. But for you, Ms. Ribeiro, well … if you break your oath to the Council, then each of us will acquire some of your energy.”
&n
bsp; Okaay … she could see where he was going with this.
“Losing energy to nine people under a blood oath would mean the loss of all your magikal power, Ms. Ribeiro.”
A tense silence filled the air. De Jong smirked as if this were some form of torture for her. In fact, everyone seemed to be on tenterhooks waiting for her reply. Only her friends sat confidently in their seats because … they knew her. This wasn’t a problem.
She smiled slowly. “Mr. De Jong, I have no hesitation in agreeing to a blood oath, because I have every intention of giving up the trace.”
He lost the smirk as most of the Council relaxed, relieved at her answer. Chatter bounced off the walls while Caia stood there. Finally, Penelope stood. “If you will follow us, Caia, we will begin the ceremony for the blood oath immediately.”
20
Save Me from Myself
Jaeden held out her hand toward the plate as it hovered in the air, kept under tight control with her telekinesis. With a wave of satisfaction, she flicked her wrist, sending the china careening into the nearest tree. She smiled humorlessly as the shattered remnants found company with the other pieces of china she’d obliterated. Glancing down at the box filled with more expensive dinnerware, she tried not to feel impotent that this was her only act of revenge on Reuben.
Wow. Destroying his china pattern. What a kick to the cajones.
After weeks of berating herself and the vampyre, Jaeden had finally dashed into the huge kitchen to look for something to train with in the woods. Instead, she’d stumbled across some expensive china Reuben had locked in a closet at the back of the kitchen. She didn’t know for certain if the stuff was his, but she decided to use it for target practice on the off chance that it might be. Now she was far into the woods, away from the rest of the pack, doing just that.
Ah, away from the rest of the pack, she mused. No change there, then. For the week Caia had been gone, Jaeden had avoided almost everyone. The only person she really spoke to was Alexa, and thus Mal and Finlay since they never left their sister’s side. It was beginning to drive Lex nuts, and Jae’s company was always a welcome relief from her brothers. But as the weeks turned, so did Jaeden’s heart.
The immediate rage she’d felt over her father’s death had calmed enough for her to begin to feel all kinds of guilty for what she had done to Caia. She couldn’t comprehend how she could’ve let Caia be kicked out of the pack. And all she wanted to do now was find her and fix it. But how could she fix it when she couldn’t even fix herself and her relationships with the pack? She hadn’t spoken to her mother and ignored her when Julia tried to approach.
As for her relationship with Ryder, it was pretty much over. Her heart flipped in her chest at the thought. Their meeting in the hall the day Caia left wasn’t to be their last. For two weeks Ryder cornered her whenever he got the chance, and all she did was insult and offend him … oh gods, she had said some horrible things. She’d told him she didn’t love him anymore. And Hades, that wasn’t true. She loved him so much, she was terrified of losing him too. So pushing him away … that had been a smart plan. Not. Now he could barely look at her.
And Lucien was trying his best to keep the pack together, insisting on weekly runs and meals together. At first those occasions had been blunted by grief and Jaeden’s animosity, but she’d gradually been relegated to an outsider through her own means, the pack easing into casual conversations with one another, easing into playing and enjoying the euphoria and release of the pack runs. Except for Alexa and herself, the pack grieved as one and were the better for it.
Jaeden didn’t miss that Vil and Laila’s soothing presence helped. Especially little Laila; she had a gift for creating peace among them. Their other gifts had also come in handy when members of the pack went food shopping in the nearest town—Laila used her magik to glamour them so no one would question the strangers who kept popping into town.
Their other guest, Rose, was a different matter. As Jaeden’s guilt over what she’d done to Caia grew unbearable, her misdirected anger at Rose grew as well. She snapped and snarled at the lykan any chance she got. Part of her knew it was psychological crap, but the other part of her knew, as she watched Rose with Lucien, that the female wolf was biding her time with their Alpha, awaiting the moment when he threw away Caia’s memory for good and made Rose his partner.
Dear goddess, it was all her fault.
The box of dishes shook, and she clenched her fists, bringing her emotions back under control. It was all too late anyway. What was done was done, and there was nothing she could do about it. She didn’t have the energy to do anything about it.
Frustrated as all Hades at herself, Jaeden ripped off her clothes. Once naked, she crouched on to all fours, luxuriating in the soft mud that seeped between her fingers and toes and cushioned the weight on her knees. She pushed the change, wincing in relief at the piercing of each hair through her skin, eyes burning as her ears transformed, her face shifting. Her jaw cracked as it elongated, her teeth filling her mouth rapidly. The echoing snap of her bones as her spine, legs, and arms morphed sent a premature howl from between lips still formed from the median change. Jaeden gasped in satisfaction at the stinging pain of her claws lengthening and concentrated on slowing the process to prolong the happy liberation the change wrought.
Finally, she lay in wolf form, panting into the forest floor. She wondered if she would be happier as a wolf. And then she saw a rabbit dash from between the trees, its frightened eye catching sight of her before it tore off into the camouflage of the woods. A real wolf would see the rabbit and lick its lips at the thought of the hunt and kill, but a lykan like her still had “aw, a bunny” thoughts running through her head. Probably wouldn’t be happier as just as a wolf, then.
Ignoring the frightened lump of fur, Jae got up and ran in the opposite direction. Her mind cleared with the run, her muscles unknotted, her soul forgotten along with the time. She ran for hours, the fading light suggesting she head back and change into her clothes for dinner. With a huff through her snout, she raced back through the trees and skidded to a stop when she came to her clothes and the broken china. The change back was faster, and the cold night air made her hurry back into her clothes. She was just pulling her T-shirt over her head when a familiar voice sucked the breath out of her body.
“You were gone awhile.”
Jaeden finished dressing and spun to find Ryder leaning against the tree she’d used as target practice. He gave the broken plates a pointed look but didn’t say anything.
She gulped as he crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps rippling as he moved. Oh goddess, he looked good in those jeans and white T-shirt. Smells good too, she thought longingly as she caught his scent in the breeze.
“No hello?” he asked, straightening. His eyes were narrowed and challenging. Full of dislike.
She shrugged defensively. “What do you want?”
He laughed, low and grim. “What do I want, she asks. That’s funny.”
Her stomach churned, not liking his tone at all. They hadn’t spoken in weeks, and before when they had, she’d still had all that anger keeping her nice and detached. Now she was just a vulnerable mess. An easy target.
“What’s funny?” she asked quietly, trying to infuse some belligerence into her voice.
He moved slowly toward her, and she felt herself back up unconsciously. “You. Asking me what I want? Not really something that’s crossed your mind these last few weeks.”
Jaeden didn’t reply. There was nothing she could say. She had abandoned him when he needed her most.
“What?” he mocked. “No witty comeback, no insult to cut me to the quick?”
“Ry—”
“How about telling me you don’t love me anymore … ’cause I gotta tell you, I really enjoyed that the first time around.”
“I—”
“No. Forget about me for a minute. Why don’t we talk about the fact that you haven’t spoken to your mother since her husband died—”
She growled, “My father!”
Ryder glared at her and smacked a hand off his forehead. “Oh, stupid me, I forgot Jaeden was the only one to lose someone that day!”
She groaned, feeling frustrated tears burn her throat and eyes. “Ryder, please don—”
“Ryder, don’t what?” he spat. “Finally give you hell for all your bullshit?”
Jaeden squirmed, wishing the ground would swallow her whole. Her mate had finally snapped, and he wanted to have it out, here and now. She didn’t think she could handle it. So she did what she’d been good at lately and walked past him toward the hotel. A frightening snarl ripped from the back of his throat and his hand shot out, gripping her by the T-shirt and propelling her back with force into a tree. He loomed over in the darkness, his amber eyes bright with fury as he pinned her there.
“You’re not going anywhere until I’m finished,” he cursed. “I lost my mother. Julia lost her husband. Mal and Fin lost their parents. And Draven and Kade lost their kids, for Gaia’s sake.” His hot breath rushed over her face, and she couldn’t help but tremble under the heat of his anger. “I am sorry about Dimitri. I know how close you were, but that does not give you the right to treat the people who still care about you like dirt.”
“I ne—”
“I’m not done!” he roared, and she flinched back, truly scared of him now. This was a Ryder she’d never encountered before. “This might be the last real conversation you and I ever have, and I want you to know exactly what I think about you.”
Oh goddess, no, please no, let it end, let it end, please let me be deaf, please let me be deaf.
Ryder took that moment to take a deep breath, clearly trying to control himself. He stilled, and his eyes washed over her face as if he were tallying up her features. “I never thought you would ever be this selfish. I never thought you would ever be this cruel or hateful. And I never thought there would come a day, and so soon into our mating, that I would say I couldn’t trust you—” He broke off, the words catching in his throat.