by Ann Mayburn
“Wait, you said Drusilla found him,” Nadia crossed her legs, her expression tight. “How did she know where he was—who he was? I mean, this was a deal between Paul and the Mother Goddess. How did Talia find out?”
“Witches,” Nevoj sighed. “Talia was always surrounded by witches.”
“Really?” McGregor stroked his chin. “I never noticed.”
Nevoj nodded slowly as he began to piece things together in his mind. “Not so much in public, but at home there were always witches around. Mean, nasty bitches who fawned over my mother, and delighted in tormenting the more submissive shifters. I hated them…but to be honest with you, up until you mentioned it I didn’t really remember how much of a presence they had in my life while I was growing up. Why didn’t I remember them?”
“Probably a spell,” Nadia rubbed his shoulder. “You know how Talia liked her secrecy. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised to find out she’d had a spell done on her own child without his knowledge.”
“This explains much,” Ted looked over at McGregor, the men having some kind of silent conversation.
Nevoj interrupted their private exchange, “Back to Paul?”
“Right,” McGregor scratched at the back of his neck. “Drusilla’s stink was all over the scene of his death in that hotel room in Oregon. It looked like Paul had a stroke, but I could feel a hint of magical residue.”
Leaning forward, Ted tapped his fingers on his thick thigh. “I believe Paul knew what was coming. He suddenly had a business trip across the country, a business trip that we had trouble verifying even existed. He’d talked before about knowing the day he was going to die, but I always thought it was battlefield bravado. Now, I believe he did know, and I think he sacrificed his life in order to keep Carol and Synthia safe.”
“That would make sense,” Nadia ran her hands through her coppery hair. “I mean, there is no way in hell Drusilla would have let them live.”
“No, you’re right on that.” Nevoj blew out a harsh breath. “Just the thought of that evil cunt being anywhere near Synthia makes me want to destroy things.”
Standing, Ted walked behind his chair over to the mini-bar across the room. “Good, you’re going to need that protective Alpha instinct in the days to come. Bad shit is headed our way.”
McGregor stood and joined his friend, each pouring a crystal glass with what smelled like bourbon.
Lifting the glass in their direction, Ted said, “A war is coming. A big one. I can smell it on the horizon, like rain mixed with blood scenting the breeze.”
Nadia cleared her throat. “What kind of war? Not to be flippant, but I need more to go on than ‘you smell something’.”
McGregor made a low rumble in his chest, and Ted quickly spoke up. “We don’t know, but the witches sense it too. There are mutterings about the veil tearing, and demons appearing, but nothing solid.”
“Demons?” Nadia blinked. “How many?”
“We don’t know for sure, and the witches are being tight-lipped about the whole thing. You know how the Coven is, their pride wouldn’t let them admit they’d accidentally lit themselves on fire even as they burned to death before your eyes.”
“You’re right,” Nadia joined the men, pouring a glass of her own while Nevoj watched them. “I grew up with a wise woman on our ranch, and she hated the way the Coven kept secrets. She said all the time the Coven was hiding shit, using the illusion to cover their mistakes. I always thought she talked shit about the Coven for the way they treated wise women, not because of some actual conspiracy.”
“And right now, conspiracy theories are all we have.” Ted drained his glass, blowing out a harsh breath as he set it down on the minibar. “We’ve been hearing rumors that the witches are getting stretched thin trying to contain and repair these rips in the veil. And that there have been demon attacks happening in public areas.”
“Shit,” Nadia sat back in her chair. “How have we not heard about this?”
“The illusion,” Ted said with a grim smile. “Covers up all the nasty stuff.”
“Even from shifters?”
McGregor shrugged. “Looks like it.”
“And because of their nature, demons fry all electrical devices around them so getting proof is hard.” Nadia sipped her drink before continuing, “No video, no phones, nothing other than word of mouth to spread the knowledge of the attacks. Bet if you started checking records of unexplained blackouts combined with missing people you’d find evidence of demons in the area.”
“Blackouts?” McGregor asked.
“Demons give off electrical energy, you get a couple together and they can easily short out most household electrical systems. While blackouts happen every day for mundane reasons, it’s one of the few ways we have to track them.”
Ted’s eyebrows shot up as he gave Nadia an impressed look. “That’s a good idea. I’m gonna have my people start checking.”
“Tell them to look for clusters all within a hundred and fifty mile, roughly circular form. Usually demons can only venture that far from a tear in the veil. I have no idea why, it’s just what I remember my mother telling me.”
McGregor poured himself another glass of bourbon. “Your mum knew about demons? I met Ophelia once or twice. She didn’t strike me as the demon hunting sort.”
Nadia took a short breath and let it out through her nose. “My birth family were demon hunters, not my adopted one.”
“Really?” Nevoj tried to remember what he knew about Nadia’s family. “I never heard any mention of it.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t know either until I started to research them on my own. They were actually a rather old, well known hunter family before Talia eradicated them. I remember bits and pieces of the stories my mother and father used to tell me that had been handed down through the generations. I was fourteen when they were slaughtered, but I remember some of their bedtime tales of my ancestors hunting the dorchadas ocras, the hungry darkness.”
“Oral tradition,” Ted nodded his head in Nadia’s direction. “That’s how we passed down our stories from the olden days, the times before pencil and paper. Tablets can be destroyed, books burned, but the history passed from parent to child would survive as long as there was a descendant alive to keep the traditions. While the hyenas have always been the Mother’s chosen demon hunters, we bears have traditions of our own passed from the days before the veil sealed the demons away from our world. Names may change, traditions may vary, but all shifters have their own versions of tales of the hungry darkness. Unlike your Irish ancestors, Nadia, my Greek ancestors called ‘em the peinasméno skotádi. I think I have an old Greek book about them at home.”
McGregor stroked his chin. “Might be time to start talking to the elders and gathering as much information as we can. I remember some tales my maternal grandmother told us, but only bits and pieces. I never was one to hang around the old ones, but I know a few of my brothers and sisters did. If anyone will have some answers it’ll be them.”
“We’ll set up a command post,” McGregor added. “Get a dedicated staff working on figuring out truth from fiction, reality from legend.”
Unease prickled down Nevoj’s spine. “Do you really think demons are that big of a threat?”
“I do.” Ted leaned down, pulling up his pantleg to reveal a large, wicked looking sheathed knife strapped to his calf. “The blade is salted iron, and I don’t leave the house without it.”
“Nice,” Nadia murmured as they watched Ted unsheathe the dagger and hand it to her. “Where did you get it?”
“It belonged to my great-great-grandfather. My dad used to tell me stories about it being forged with metal from a meteor. Supposed to be good for fighting demons.”
Holding the blade to the light, Nadia said, “It’s a wonderful weapon, and you’re right. Salted iron is one of the most effective metals to use, but hard to come by. My birth mother said that the ancient hyena Queens would call to the earth, and they’d show her where to find mete
or sites.”
“Interesting.” Nevoj stood and joined them, holding out his hand. “May I see it?”
Bringing the blade to his nose, he took a deep breath, the odd almost minty scent he expected filling his nose. “I thought this looked familiar.”
“You’ve seen it before?”
“Yes, in fact, my personal weapons are all made from this material. Talia collected it and I liberated a few dozen swords and knives from where they’d been gathering dust in one of her many hidden storage houses. She has vaults concealed everywhere and we’re discovering new troves all the time. I can always tell when we’re about to open a box full of swords, daggers, axes and spears by the minty aroma they give off.”
Ted took the knife back, and smelled the blade then said, “Well I’ll be damned. It does smell kind of minty. Like that initial cool burn when you use mouthwash. Never would’a noticed it without getting up close.”
“Might be a good idea to start gathering these weapons together, Nevoj,” McGregor looked at the window across the room, facing the street. “If they truly are the preferred weapon of choice for the demon hunters of old, it wouldn’t hurt to have some on hand. Hate to say it, but Talia was smart keeping them scattered about. If someone found her vault, and it fell into the wrong hands, she’d still have backups.”
“We still haven’t found all her secrets, but we’re getting there.”
“Your main priority right now should be finding your Queen’s mates. The weapons, demons, everything else can wait. Have you had any luck locating her Enforcer or Omega?”
“Not yet. My guards haven’t noticed anyone unusual trying to approach her.”
“And as far as I can tell, no one has come poking around her house.” Ted sighed. “I was hoping we’d get lucky and they’d find her as quick as you two did.”
“It could take ten years—” Nadia began but McGregor cut her off.
“We don’t have ten years. We might not even have five before it—whatever it is, hits. We don’t have time to waste.”
“You’re right,” Nevoj turned to face the older men. “We don’t have time to waste. I need to be on a plane to Thailand in less than three hours. What I need to know before I go is if we can rely on your Clan to help us keep her safe?”
Ted nodded. “As much as we’re able. There are some hyena affairs we cannot interfere in, but we will agree to a formal alliance with Synthia, when she secures her place as a Queen. Have you finished her den?”
“We’re in the middle of completing it.”
“Good. Nevoj, I know you have your reasons for wanting to delay a public claiming of Synthia, but you won’t be able to resist the pull for long. The need to mate is powerful, and impossible to resist.”
“That’s right,” Ted crossed his arms over his barrel chest. “Once you get the scent of your mate in you, the need for her will just keep growing. You’ll only be able to fight it for so long. Hell, when I met my mate I tried to tell myself for three weeks what I felt wasn’t real. Three of the worst weeks of my life.”
“You always were an idiot,” McGregor grinned at his friend before looking back to Nevoj. “Once you begin to establish your mating bond, you’ll want to be somewhere safe and protected from the rest of the world. It’s easy to lose yourself in the heat.” McGregor gave them what he probably thought was a randy wink that instead came off as slightly terrifying, and Nadia made a distressed sound. “I know the equipment is new to ya, but I guarantee, you’ve never felt anything like the clasp of a hot quim around yer shaft. Once you’ve felt that heaven you never want to leave it, and yer sure as fuck not paying attention to your surroundings like you should. More than one Queen has been killed in her bedsheets.”
“No one will ever get near our Queen,” Nadia snarled. “I will rip their throats out and shit on their bodies before they can even scent her.”
Ted gave Nadia a considering look, and Nevoj knew their time had run out. The only way to slow the change at this point was to let Nadia work out her energy in the ring. He didn’t trust anyone with the knowledge of who she was about to become, which meant he’d be the one sparring with her tonight. Fuck, that was gonna hurt.
Standing, he pretended to help Nadia out of her chair when he was really keeping a hand on her. The twitches of her muscles reminded him of the overwhelming sensations of the change and he prayed he could get her home fast enough. “Thank you for your time, Clan Leaders. We value your friendship. If you ever have any need, please call on our den.”
“We will,” McGregor’s expression became serious. “May the Goddess bless you and keep you safe, you’re gonna need it.”
Chapter 6
Syn
After five long hours spent waiting, and doing paperwork, then waiting some more, I was finally walking through my front door. I’d seriously underestimated how long insurance paperwork would take. Jerry had picked me up from the museum, and we’d grabbed a bite to eat on the way home. During our meal he’d told me a little about what it was like growing up as a bear shifter. He was the youngest of Ted’s boys, and the quietest, but I was surprised to find out he was the second most dominant. His oldest brother was the next in line to take over Ted’s spot, and Jerry was glad it wasn’t him. He wasn’t interested in being King.
Funny, I wasn’t really interested in being a Queen right now either.
I had an enormous amount of responsibility coming my way, and I doubted my ability to keep up with everything. There were all kinds of protocol to learn, history, and so many laws I wanted to tear my hair out. Oh, and the laws varied between the different types of shifters. What was a hanging offense to the ravens, wouldn’t mean shit to the lions or even cause a hyena to blink. The lions seemed to be the most openly bloodthirsty, but the hyenas weren’t far behind. Assassinations and revenge killings were allowed, so it was survival of the fittest. This had led to an atmosphere of extreme distrust and tribalism among the hyenas. You trusted your den, and only your den. Everyone else was a potential enemy at best.
Looking from the outside in, I had kind of a unique viewpoint of the whole hyena mess. I wasn’t caught up in my family’s personal history, I hadn’t lost anyone to a random bullet or blade. And I really didn’t want to take anyone’s territory. In a perfect world, I’d just have my mates and we’d live happily ever after in my little house in the suburbs of Fairfax. Though I’d probably have to build at least one additional bathroom. Unfortunately, I couldn’t deny my role as Queen. Not only was it as much a part of me as my brown hair and hazel eyes, but there might be someone out there that would need me. Someone who didn’t have a home or Pack to call their own.
A rogue.
According to Diana, rogues were shifters that lived outside of the shifter society. Most of them were good people caught up in bad situations. They suffered spiritually and physically from not having a shifter group to call their family, but they’d rather wither away than go back home. That said something about the state of some shifter groups. I’m sure there were a lot of good Queens out there, but Diana and Janet made it sound like most of them were bitches with a capital B. The rogues occasionally had families, but their children sickened easily from the lack of being around other shifters. A few might band together here and there, but if the ruling Queen of that area viewed them as a threat, they’d be toast.
I could help them. If they were good people, if they deserved a chance, and by a random twist of fate I had the power to keep them safe. Or I would—at least I hoped I would.
But first I just had to find my mates, establish a den, be recognized by the other Queens, and become powerful enough to defend my den.
Then start an outreach program for alienated shifters.
Sure, no problem.
I wanted to thump my head against the nearest solid surface, but my cats were watching me, and I didn’t want to be a bad influence.
Instead of wailing against the injustices of the universe, I changed into my pajamas then took care of some things aro
und the house before flopping back onto my massive couch, like falling into a giant marshmallow. It had been my first big purchase for my house, and I loved every oversized inch of it. A pale lilac color, I’d strewn buttercup yellow and baby blue velvet pillows all over it. It was big enough to seat a dozen people, and I made full use of every inch when I had my friends and cousins over for game nights. I had a whole stack of various board and card games in my closet, and I wondered what my future mates would think about my dorkier hobbies.
Stretching out, I lumped a yellow pillow behind my head and tugged at the hem of my nightgown. My cats had been by earlier to greet me, and were now waiting in bed for me. Normally, I’d be asleep after such a long day, but at the moment I was too restless to relax. My body was uncomfortable, tense and sensitive in a way that was kinda nice despite the pressure between my legs.
A luscious, decadent smell washed over me. Sugary sweet like walking into an ice cream parlor, but with the subtle bite of coffee. It was a delicious combination and I seemed to be growing hooked on inhaling it.
The source of my addiction sat on the tempered glass coffee table to my right. Instead of tossing the shirt I’d worn today into the laundry, I’d found myself carrying it with me like a security blanket. While innocent enough on its own, the shirt that I’d had on earlier had become a source of both pleasure and torment for me. I could still smell him all over it from where he’d held me at his side, from where his arm had draped protectively over my shoulders, and I was confused as hell.