Masked Desire

  As expected, there was nothing unusual about the splatter patterns. Her team would have caught it if there was. What was she expecting to find? Nothing.

  Catching sight of a pad of paper, she found a pen to make a list. The simple action of noting what she knew in tidy lines and columns soothed her mind. Logic always won the day. She’d been thinking with her heart about Cormac’s accusations. She paused, pen poised above the pad. With Cormac, she gave in too much to sentiment, allowing her gut to rule her mind. This was not the woman she was.

  Reason. Strategy. Rational planning. These were the traits she valued. Not Cormac’s wild accusations and leaps of fancy.

  Her list made no connections. Nothing new. She expected to find nothing. Was that the problem? What if instead of expecting nothing, she expected…something? She grabbed the phone again. No marks on her office door. With a sigh, she slid her finger on the screen to re-examine all of the areas that she’d given only a cursory check, assuming they were less likely to yield evidence. The upper reaches of the walls were clear. There were no strange trapdoors on the floor—she’d checked years ago after finding one in the kitchen. The bookcase behind her desk. Hiro had been killed from behind, so she examined this carefully and focused on a single book she hadn’t noticed before. What was that? A blood smear?

  Whatever it was, it was all she had. Michaela made a final note on her pad, then grabbed her clothes.

  Time to go into the office.

  Chapter 30

  Cormac stood outside Michaela’s Pharos office. He didn’t blame her for being upset, but it was infuriating that she’d decided to blame the messenger, particularly since the messenger happened to be him. He glanced up at the CCTV. His glamour was strong enough that he’d be invisible to any observer, but that advantage would disappear if he entered Michaela’s office. Not only was it spelled to prevent arcane advantages such as glamours, but even a security guard as obtuse as Nadia would notice a door opening by itself.

  For a long moment, he stared at the heavy oak door. He raised his hand. Lowered it. Did it again. Listened to his heart hammer against his chest. It wasn’t fear. More foreboding. The moment he deliberately touched that oaken door, the connection with the wood would open him up to the dolma. Tismelda would know who he was and what he could do. Despite the fear, eagerness filled his chest. For Kiana, he’d made a vow on his tree to not use his power, but it had been the equivalent of cutting off a limb. He’d nearly gone mad in those first years of silence. Caintir lived in a world of song, speaking with the natural world as easily as they did to other fey.

  In some ways, exile had saved him. Had he been forced to stay in the Queendom and never speak with the dolma, he would have died from the agony of it.

  He hesitated again. Perhaps he could find what he needed a different way. Then he shook his head. There had been three attempts on Michaela’s life. Cormac wouldn’t let there be another. He touched his sigil. I’m sorry, Isindle. Forgive me, Kiana. With a quick, deep breath, and before he could think his way out of it, Cormac reached out for the door.

  The moment he made contact, he jerked back.

  He couldn’t do it. Not even for Michaela. He’d find another way to prove his point.

  * * * *

  Michaela bent over with a sudden quick burning pain through her chest. Her sigil throbbed for a moment, then subsided, making her wonder if she was imagining things. No doubt. For all she knew, she’d get such a feeling every time Cormac stubbed a toe.

  She had no trouble getting into the office, although for a moment she thought Madden might have cancelled her access despite her remaining councilor status. Luckily, it worked, and Nadia merely waved her in with a dour expression. Michaela nodded as she passed. The minute she was back in charge, that one was out.

  Although it was only late afternoon, she saw no one and wondered if Madden would be in. Her throat caught when she thought of him. Cormac’s accusation was obviously ridiculous, but was there another issue that she hadn’t seen? She wasn’t one given to much self-doubt, but this had shaken her. They’d been coming to the end of their relationship, but that was natural, nothing to make him turn on her like this. Was she not working as hard as she could? Had she failed him in some way?

  Michaela kept her back straight and expression neutral as she walked through the halls, hiding any trepidation from the cameras. She reached her room almost with relief, although she could smell the noxious cleansers used to clean it even in the hallway.

  She unlocked the door, turned on the lights, and stepped in.

  It was her office, no more and no less. Cleaner than usual, and with her chairs moved out of their usual spots, but other than that, there was no evidence of the brutal murder that had taken place mere days ago. Michaela didn’t dwell on that. She had seen plenty of death in her many years and for people far more worthy of her grief.

  Instead she pulled out her phone and brought up the image that had caught her interest. Behind her desk was a set of built-in bookcases she had packed tight with volumes that spanned the gamut from true crime to the philosopher Mengzi. Her gaze went between the image and her books. There. It was easy to see why it had been missed. The book spines were a riot of color and the smear blended in.

  She went up to examine it closer and held her breath. It was the exact shape and size of a fingerprint, minus any identifying whorls and spirals.

  A flat, blank fingerprint.

  Like a vampire’s.

  Michaela’s breath whooshed out. Don’t jump to conclusions. That could be any vampire’s finger.

  Fine. Assume it wasn’t Madden. What was this unidentified vamp doing in her office? Maybe killing Hiro. Maybe coming in after his death.

  Why the bookcase? She frowned and looked up at the smear. Up. That’s what had bothered her. Whoever it was had reached high. For one of her books?

  She stared down at the floor and dropped to her knees. What she had assumed was residue from the cleaning was a faded line across the bottom of the shelves, as though they had been moved back a millimeter.

  Michaela jumped back to her feet and eyed the cases as she gnawed on her lip. What was behind her office? She closed her eyes to help recall the convoluted Pharos floor plan.

  Madden. Madden’s office was on the other side of the wall.

  * * * *

  Michaela hesitated outside of Madden’s office. She knew by the thin band of light under his door that he was inside but she needed a moment to marshal her thoughts. What she had to say was difficult.

  Impossible, rather.

  The killer had come from Madden’s office. Reason told her Cormac was correct and the most likely suspect was Madden, but it was possible that his office had only been used. The first thing she needed to confirm was whether it was possible to move between their offices.

  She steeled herself and knocked.

  “Enter.” As always, his voice was low and calm.

  Michaela pushed the door open and stood inside. Madden pushed himself away the table. “Michaela. A pleasant surprise.” He gave her a friendly smile. “Sit down. Your health has improved?”

  This was so like the old Madden that she paused, suddenly uncertain.

  “Yes, thank you. Ready to discuss the transfer back from Anjali.”

  “There’s no hurry, since I’ve prorogued the council indefinitely. I can’t have them here if I can’t guarantee their safety.”

  She stayed close to the door and took in the room. There, to the right and in the corner, a tasseled gold rope hung down. It had been so part of his office that Michaela had hardly registered it before. Now she stared at it. There were no servants’ quarters in the Pharos building, no one to summon.

  “You killed Hiro.” She said it without emphasis, knowing in her gut it was true.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “You did. You came through a door in th
e bookcase. You killed Hiro. You thought it was me. You saw Hiro’s back when he was at my computer and thought it was me. You skinned his arms. I bet you were the one who put Hiro in touch with those rogue masquerada.”

  Madden’s face shifted and she knew that she’d struck home.

  “This is no longer your case, councilor.” He glanced indifferently at his computer screen. “You should bring your concerns, however outrageous, to Anjali.”

  “I’m bringing them to you.” Anger unfurled in her chest. “I trusted you. You were my mentor. My guide.”

  Madden’s shrug was so supremely uncaring that it hit her like a blow. “You were convenient, Michaela. You masquerada. All the same.”

  “What?”

  “As if I would take one of you into my confidence. I was almost a seneschal. Then you came strolling in, acting as if it was an honor for me to work with you.”

  Despite herself, Michaela’s eyes blurred with tears. She was struck silent.

  Madden stood and she suddenly knew she was in danger. Even as he lifted the gun towards her, she masqued into Yuri and leapt to the side, slamming into the wall hard enough to crack the wood paneling. The sharp crack echoed in her head.

  There was no time to think about how to react. Shoving herself away from the wall, Michaela attacked, hoping to knock the gun away.

  He fired again, this time skinning her arm. She grunted in pain even as she kicked out. Madden dodged and she landed heavily on the ground.

  The heavy oak door burst open. Michaela had twisted behind the desk to protect herself when Madden’s gun landed next to her with a thump. She whipped out her hand to grab it, then jumped to her feet.

  Madden was fighting with…what? Who? There was definitely someone there, but she couldn’t see a thing. Then she caught a faint scent of pine. Cormac. It was Cormac. She swore. There was no way she could shoot with Cormac fighting in close quarters.

  Madden’s head snapped back with the force of a blow and he tumbled away from Cormac’s grasp. As he fell, he reached out, frantically looking for a way to break his fall, and yanked on the pull. The wall slid away noiselessly, revealing Michaela’s office in the room beyond. Anjali stood there, hands on her hips and with her mouth open.

  “Help us,” called Michaela. “Madden killed Hiro.”

  The witch didn’t hesitate. She raised her arms and muttered a quick spell. Wind swept through the rooms, blowing books and papers towards Madden and pinning him in place. When Cormac shimmered and became visible, Madden roared and thrust out both of his arms with a huge effort, catching Cormac on the chin. As the fey stumbled back, Madden ran straight through, ramming into Anjali and shoving her into the wall. The wind stopped.

  Then Madden threw open the door and was gone.

  Chapter 31

  Cormac sprinted past Anjali and into the hall to find Madden had already disappeared. Shite. He turned back. Anjali was on her phone giving a flurry of instructions to the security team and Michaela, still in her Yuri masque, was at Madden’s computer.

  He slammed the door shut and returned through the now-joined offices. “How hurt are you?” he asked Michaela.

  She rumbled a negative and slammed her meaty hands down on the desk. “Nothing here. He must have wiped it or used his phone.”

  Anjali came back in. “He’s gone,” she said angrily. “Went out the window.”

  Michaela’s stare was stone-cold. “Nadia let him go. Bring her in for questioning.”

  The deputy rubbed her eyes. “Too late. Dev said she left in a big hurry.”

  “Michaela. Are you hurt?” Cormac took a step forward as she returned to her usual self, her stretched-out clothes bagging around her slim frame.

  She checked herself over and shrugged. “Grazed my arm.” She showed them the thin line of blood and Cormac closed his eyes in relief that the wound was so minor. A bandage and she would be fine.

  Of course, he still wanted to make Madden pay for harming her. That was a given.

  Anjali’s eyes were narrow. “What was that about, sir?”

  Michaela bowed to her. “First, thank you. Madden killed Hiro. He thought it was me.”

  “What?”

  “He’s not who we thought.”

  Anjali sagged against the desk. “This is big, isn’t it? I’ve seen the signs myself.”

  She was a witch, Cormac remembered. “What signs?”

  “Ripples in the threads of nature we use for our spells, but I can’t tell you more. It’s too nebulous.” She sighed. “I need to report to my coven.”

  She left the room. Cormac went to Michaela and took her in his arms. She stood stiffly against him. “How did you know I was here?” she asked.

  “I didn’t. I came here to get proof for you.”

  “You were right.” She bent her head to his shoulder. “Madden. My old mentor. He hated me.” Her voice was wondering, as if she couldn’t believe it.

  “He’s a hate-filled man. It has nothing to do with you. He wants to hurt.” Cormac’s desire to kill Madden upgraded to a need to kill the treacherous bastard with maximum pain.

  Michaela heaved a shaky sigh and pulled away from him. “I should have believed you.”

  He shrugged. “Well, of course. I’m usually right.”

  “I…Madden.”

  Cormac tucked her under his arm, wordlessly urging her to lean on him. She did. “It will hurt for a long time. I know. Then it will pass.”

  “I can’t believe how he tricked me. What else was he lying about?” She pulled away. “What else could he be hiding? Why did he want to kill me?”

  Kill Michaela. Tom’s comment about how devastating her loss would be. “The Dawning.”

  She sagged in his arms. “The Dawning. He’s how they received their information, not Hiro. We need to get back to Eric’s. Right now.”

  * * * *

  The next morning, Cormac opened the door to Eric’s busy war room. He’d taken a shift with Ivy so Michaela could finally get the rest she needed.

  Michaela looked up from her laptop the moment Cormac approached her. “How’s Ivy?”

  She looked revitalized and her hair was held up in a high ponytail that made her look so young his heart ached. In the bright early sun, her long, dark eyes caught the light, and he saw flecks of amber deep inside.

  “Sleeping well and the medic’s pleased. She can probably go home today. He said not to come up. He’ll call you when she wakes.”

  Michaela made a face. “I’d prefer to go up, but fine.”

  “What are you doing?”

  She pointed at the screen. “Yangzei.”

  Eric came up beside Cormac. “Morning, fey. What about Yangzei?” The Hierarch peered down into his gigantic coffee cup as though willing it to be full again.

  “I think he’s it.” Michaela rubbed her sigil, an unconscious movement that made Cormac catch his breath. That was what he’d been feeling all night. Occasionally, a small quiver had run through his chest, exactly the same feeling that he had now.

  It was Michaela’s touch.

  Michaela cradled her forehead in her hands and stared at the wooden table. Cormac was momentarily distracted by the nape of her neck, as pale as birch bark. “Iverson brought back Yangzei,” she said slowly. “The Ancient helped him gain power and is now helping Frieda build her army.”

  “How could Iverson do that?” asked Eric. “None of us knew where Yangzei was.”

  Michaela sat up straight. “Only because we didn’t look,” she said. “How many resources had we put towards finding the Ancient? We were happy enough that he wasn’t around.”

  “We fooled ourselves he was gone.” Eric’s lips were a thin line. “I fooled myself.”

  “We had other concerns,” said Michaela. “Iverson was motivated. No wallowing, sire.”

  Eric shot her a wry gr
in. “No wallowing. As you say, he was motivated.”

  “It makes sense,” said Stephan. “We thought Iverson was able to build his power base a little quickly.”

  “Then what does Yangzei get out of it?” asked Cormac. “What would an Ancient want?”

  The rest stared at him, but it was Eric who finally answered. “I don’t know. What I do know is that I can’t let it happen. First we stop Frieda. Then the Eye Thief. Stephan, do we have reports of other Ancients appearing?”

  Stephan and Tom shared a glance and both shook their heads. “They could be out there, though.”

  “Not on the vampire side,” said Estelle. “Our Ancients are kept in a crypt, and I would know if they were tampered with.”

  Stephan addressed her without looking in her direction. “How many do you have?”

  She gave him a level stare. “Our Ancients are kept in a crypt, and I would know if they were tampered with.”

  “Fine.” He crossed his arms.

  Cormac hid a grin and noticed Michaela and Caro very carefully avoiding each other’s gaze. Eric cleared his throat. “Right. Good to know. Redoak, is there a threat from Queen Tismelda?”

  “Always. Tismelda is greedy.”

  “What would the queen want?” Tom stood by the window in his usual stiff posture. “The Queendom has always been on the outskirts of the arcane world.”

  “Land,” said Cormac simply. “The humans are taking over forests at an astounding rate. Though people are trying to dial back some of the damage, for some places it’s too late.”

  “The fey depend on the forests here, although their realm is—” Stephan stopped. “Where is it exactly?”

  Cormac gave him a tight smile. No need for the masquerada to know. “Existing elsewhere.”

  Stephan rolled his eyes. “Excellent. Fucking amazing. I’m so glad we can come together for this generous sharing of information and ideas. This meeting has been so instructive.”

  Eric shot Stephan a warning look. “That makes sense. The Dawning wants to subjugate the humans. There’s no guarantee that any arcane race will be more ecologically minded, though.”