Dark Secrets: A Paranormal Romance Anthology

by Colleen Gleason

  “He is here,” Mahalia continued, “because the bodies were left for the police to find. The media has already gotten wind of the situation. They were all over the second crime scene. Matthison can help us by keeping the media at bay. We will use him to steer the media away from anything related to the Others or the Council.”

  “I was under the impression that we had Maurin to handle things like that,” Agrona’s eyes shifted, scrutinizing every person sitting at the table

  “It was never intended for Maurin to deal with the media. You should know this since it was you who worked out all the details of her position with me. The fewer people who know of her, the better. Why did you call this meeting, Mahalia? What would you have of the Council?” Ever the voice of reason, Roul tried to get the conversation back on track.

  “We need protection. I must cast a recollection on the dead girls, and it will leave the entire coven weakened. I also ask for the protection of another, a person not of the coven but equally essential to performing the recollection,” Mahalia hurried through her request, nervously rearranging the place setting before her.

  “We are always willing to help the coven. I offer you and your associate the protection of the pack for the next forty-eight hours. After that, you are on your own. I’m sorry, Mahalia, pack business. You understand. If there is nothing else that you require of the pack, then I will excuse myself and Olwyn from the rest of this meeting.” The two rose before any objections could be made.

  Matthison watched them leave before turning his steely cop eyes in my direction. We all knew what Roul meant by pack business. Including Matthison. If we all walked away from this, then I’d have some explaining to do about Cash and his pass.

  Agrona leaned across the table with her usual feline grace. This meeting was far from over.

  “Who is this stranger that requires safe passage, Mahalia? I can’t recall the last time you asked for such a thing.”

  “Her name is Graive Larrick. She is coming to help us with the recollection, and if needed, she will stay until the murderers are caught and punished.” She glanced at Matthison as she spoke that last word.

  “Why are you avoiding a direct answer to my question?”

  So Agrona noticed that too. It was pretty obvious Mahalia was skirting around something. She was giving up just enough to avoid lying.

  “You are deliberately leaving something out. This leads me to believe that my Queen will not be happy about whatever it is you are hiding. Let us not have lies or deceit between us. After all, it was you who came to us for aid,” Agrona’s husband leaned forward, resting both elbows on the table.

  “Kedehern, I am not lying or being deceitful at all,” Mahalia chose her words carefully, edging back from the table to put some distance between them.

  “Splitting hairs, aren’t we? Intentionally withholding information is the same thing as lying,” he growled.

  Kedehern was doing all of the talking, which usually meant that Agrona was too pissed off to speak. I was missing something.

  “Spit it out, Mahalia. My Queen is getting irritated, and we all remember what happened the last time she lost her temper at a Council meeting.” The vampire king impatiently thrummed his fingers on the table top.

  Matthison looked at me in confusion again. At some point I would have to regale him with the story of how the Vampire Queen had kicked my ass.

  I hoped the ward held if Agrona lost her temper. The last thing we needed was for the shield to drop and the bar patrons to see what was happening in the back corner.

  “I believe I mentioned the spell we will be using is to be cast on the victims. Since I don’t typically deal with magic involving dead things, this will be more difficult. However, Graive is a specialist in dealing with the dead,” Mahalia said, mumbling the last part.

  The light bulb went off. I knew why the vamps were so pissed off with Mahalia.

  “Absolutely not. We forbid it. I am astounded by your audacity, Mahalia. You come to us for help, and this is how you would repay us? No, I exercise my right as head of the Council to overrule Roul’s vote. He did not have all of the information before he made his decision,” Agrona’s nails, filed into razor sharp tips, impaled the tabletop and she gripped the edge, fighting to keep control.

  “A necro is of no consequence to the pack, Agrona, so I am certain that Roul’s answer would have been the same, regardless,” Mahalia huffed, feigning confidence.

  “Hear me on this, Mahalia. If your friend steps one foot in Salem, it is open season,” Agrona warned.

  Matthison was dying to ask. I could see it on his face. He hadn’t made the connection yet and wanted to know why the vamps didn’t want Graive Larrick in Salem. He was concerned whether this was someone he wouldn’t want in Salem either. I squeezed his knee harder than I had his shoulder. His leg jumped under the table, but he got the hint. No sense drawing attention back to the human who wasn’t invited to the party right now.

  “Agrona, please, I implore you. We must have the necromancer present. We must know for certain who is attacking us. I tried with Maurin, but it is too soon. She has not had enough training. Graive is coming only to help the coven. She will leave immediately after the threat is gone,” Mahalia pleaded.

  “You ask too much of us, Mahalia. To let a necro walk among us? Freely?” Kedehern was doing the talking again. That was probably a bad sign.

  “They’ve been hunted to near extinction. You are the Battle Lord and Carnage. What is one necromancer when compared to you? I would not ask this if it wasn’t absolutely necessary for the coven,” Mahalia insisted.

  There was a long silence before Kedehern finally consented, but not before he gave Mahalia a warning.

  “This necromancer will be gone as soon as you have eliminated the threat to the coven. We will instruct our family to leave her alone. However, if vampires outside of our domain learn of your guest we cannot, and will not, interfere. If we feel that it is taking too long, or the necromancer is going against the temporary truce we are offering,” Kedehern paused, looking at Matthison, “then there will be repercussions.”

  Mahalia only nodded as Agrona and Kedehern left the bar. Thank God that was finally over. I slumped back in my chair, exhausted from the meeting.

  “Uh, fill me in on what the hell just happened here. Why is the necro such a big deal?” Matthison asked.

  I felt bad for Matthison. He was way out of his league here. I just hoped it didn’t get him killed. Mahalia looked worse than I felt, so I decided to field this one.

  “What do necros do, Matthison? They control the dead, right? And so they can also control the undead. You know, because they are technically not alive, in that they have no heartbeat. You follow?”

  I could see it on his face when he got it.

  “That’s a big risk, Mahalia.” Back in cop mode, Matthison sounded like he was talking to a cadet instead of the high priestess of the Salem coven.

  “Believe me, Captain, if I knew another way, she wouldn’t be coming.” Mahalia looked exhausted.

  Chapter 5

  No matter how many times I hit the snooze button, my alarm wouldn’t shut off. Probably because it wasn’t my alarm clock doing the buzzing. I fumbled around on my nightstand for my cell phone, finally answering after what had to have been the hundredth ring.

  “Do you have any idea what time it is?” I managed to say.

  “The witching hour. There’s been another murder. I’ve arranged a ride for you. Be outside in five minutes.”

  “Mahalia? What?”

  She’d already hung up. I fell out of bed, grabbed a pair of jeans, a black tee, and a gray hoodie. At least that’s what color they looked like in the dark. I threw my hair up in a clip and slipped on my three-hole docs. I didn’t have time for the eights today. I was at the door before I remembered I needed deodorant and that I hadn’t even brushed my teeth.

  Matthison was waiting impatiently for me when I came out of my apartment. Damn, it was cold. The cold
air woke me up enough to make me realize I had not dressed properly, and my coat was still lying on either the floor or the couch. Matthison did not look like he would wait for me to go back and get it. I’d have to suck it up, I guess. I was not even completely inside the car before he started spewing the details.

  “This one is the worst. The violence is escalating. They had her for a while, might’ve even taken her first. They beat her, tortured her, mutilated her like the others, and then they hung her in a tree,” he grimly informed me.

  His knuckles were white from the grip he had on the steering wheel. Mine were white from the grip I had on the ‘oh shit’ bar and the dashboard. I was pretty sure we had been up on two wheels around that last corner. Wherever we were headed, we’d make it there in record time; that’s for sure.

  “What did the carvings say?” I never thought I’d ask someone that question. I was warming my hands in front of the vents.

  “That’s what bothers me the most. No carvings. No message of any kind. I don’t get it. Why the change in MO?” he asked, without taking his eyes off of the road.

  “Mahalia already knows?”

  “Yeah. She’s keeping the crime scene contained. She seems to think that the hanging is the message. She said she’d explain when we got there.” Matthison’s fingers flexed, gripping the wheel a little harder than necessary.

  It was pretty obvious he was losing his patience with the coven.

  “So she’s certain it’s the Inquisitors. I guess she won’t need the recollection after all.”

  “No, she’s still going through with it,” he managed through gritted teeth.

  I was having a hard time keeping up. Not enough sleep, which you’d think I’d be used to by now, and not enough caffeine. I hadn’t even been paying attention to where we were going, but as soon as the gables poked out above the trees I knew. I’d been there so many times over the last couple of months that I probably knew the precise GPS coordinates. I could have kicked myself for not realizing it sooner. Matthison said Mahalia already knew, and that she contained the scene. She had found the body.

  Magic pricked along my skin as we crossed Mahalia’s ward. I should be used to all the magic by now, but I was still impressed by the lack of flashing lights and pressing mob of reporters. Matthison parked alongside the front hedge, leaving just enough room for me to squeeze out the passenger side door.

  “How long do you think she can hold everyone back like this?” Matthison looked a little awestruck.

  “As long as she wants to, I guess. The coven did a hell of a job keeping Salem from knowing there was an army of demons running loose a few months ago. Hell, you probably wouldn’t have known if they didn’t tell you.” I had to shimmy between the car and the bushes.

  “I don’t know whether to be impressed or concerned here, Maurin.”

  “Both, if you’re smart,” I said flatly.

  He crossed the eerily quiet street to an old tree. The outline of a mangled body was becoming clearer as I caught up to him.

  “They haven’t cut her down?” I stepped up beside him, rubbing my hands up and down my arms.

  “I haven’t called it in yet. And where the hell’s your coat? You’re going to freeze to death out here.”

  Whether or not I could actually freeze to death was debatable. I wasn’t a crime scene investigator, however, so I did my best to stay out of his way. For all I knew I was trampling on a critical piece of evidence right now. Although it wasn’t like the killers would ever see the inside of a jail cell, let alone a courtroom, I was just hoping Matthison didn’t try to get in the way of the Council on this. He had to know this couldn’t play out in the human justice system.

  “They didn’t kill her here, either. Like the second girl, there’s not enough blood. She wasn’t dead long before they hung her here for Mahalia to find.” Matthison raked his fingers through his hair, a tell he was frustrated. And pissed.

  “Better for Mahalia to find her than an officer cruising by on patrol.” It wasn’t much consolation, but it was all I had and it was the truth.

  “Wow, criticism and disdain in only a few months. I’d expect that from the rest of them, but not you, Maurin. I thought you’d remember where you came from, who took you in, gave you a job,” he snapped.

  “Excuse me? Took me in? Like I was some kind of stray? You’re kidding me, right? You came looking for me, remember? Not the other way around!” Now that my temper was warming me up, my teeth had stopped chattering.

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t see the Council hanging around when I came recruiting you. I’m trying to understand all this stuff going on with you, really. What I don’t get is how easy all of this is for you!” Now he was shouting.

  “Easy? Who said any of this was easy? Does the last thirty-six hours seem easy to you? Stop taking out your inferiority complex on me!” I closed the distance between us and jammed a finger in his chest.

  “I do not have an inferiority complex! What pisses me off is that they’re acting like this is just another day in the supernatural community. They’re just stirring some shit up in their cauldrons, and meanwhile there’s a dead girl across the street. And it sure didn’t take long for you to fit right in over here—now that you are Mahalia’s star pupil, and you are cozying up with your new boyfriend!” Matthison pointed from the body to me, almost poking me in the chest like I’d done to him. Almost.

  We were seconds away from a shoving match.

  “Well, that’s the difference right there, isn’t it? I don’t have to fit in with them, because I am one of them. I was perfectly happy at SPTF, just being better than Masarelli. You’re the one who agreed to my new job status without me even being conscious to voice my opinion!” I sighed, suddenly exhausted and wanting the whole thing to be over. “All I meant was that the fewer people involved in this the better, and you damned well know it. And I am not having this argument with you while there’s a girl hanging in a tree, and I’m freezing my ass off!” I was done with this conversation.

  I couldn’t believe he was starting shit with me now, or at all, for that matter. What the hell did I do to him to deserve this? I headed back across the street to talk to Mahalia. Without Matthison.

  “Maurin, wait. Maurin, hold up a second. We’re not finished,” he called out.

  “Go to hell!” Thankfully, the only footprints I heard as I crossed the street were my own. Matthison could stay there and examine the crime scene by himself. I was going to find out more about the Inquisitors from Mahalia. She hadn’t been truly forthcoming about them so far, and that tactic wasn’t stopping the bodies from piling up. Maybe Oberon would be there. If Mahalia wouldn’t talk, then I bet I could get him to tell me.

  We were taking things slow since the metaphysical connection had been thrown at us a few months ago. The more time I spent with him though, the more I was sure the feelings I had for him were my own and not just attributable to some magical bond. Scota, a.k.a. the person I was in a past life that had suddenly resurfaced in my present life to help defeat the Morrigna, complicated things. Apparently Scota knew Oberon, or Oberon’s past self, and they had been lovers. Those past feelings had spilled over for both of us when we fought the Triad together. But as I gained more control of my new abilities, and Scota became more a part of me, and less a force fighting for control of me, I knew that I was falling for him all on my own. I just hoped Oberon was starting to feel the same way. Understandably, it’s all a little confusing, which is why we’re taking it slow so far.

  The warmth from inside the house stung my face as I opened the door. The grandfather clock chimed once as I stepped into the foyer. One o’clock. Officially only one hour in, and I was already starting to hate this day. As if Matthison’s diatribe wasn’t bad enough, I walked into Mahalia’s to see some bimbo pressed up against Oberon. Two things immediately came to mind. I obviously should have knocked before entering, and I really wished I had driven myself here.

  There was a familiarity and a history between th
em that I couldn’t ignore. She was draped across him with the confidence of a lover and eyeing him up like a lioness stalking a gazelle. I didn’t want to just stand there and see if their cuddling went any further, and I really didn’t want to go back outside and deal with Matthison either. Tired and pissed off, and probably against my better judgment, I decided to stay.

  “Hey.” I walked from the foyer down the two steps and into the sunken living room, struggling to keep the jealousy and anger out of my voice.

  They both looked up. Only one of them looked happy to see me, which only pissed me off more.

  “Maurin, hey. I was just showing Graive the quotes that the Inquisitors used. I found them in the Malleus Maleficarum,” Oberon said.

  “Yeah, it looks like you’ve been buried in work.”

  He looked a little confused by my blatant irritation with him. I watched, satisfied, as the realization crossed his face. He pushed her long leather-clad legs off of his lap and stood up.

  “So, you’re the necro?”

  “Maurin. I’ve heard a lot about you. Have you come to watch Oberon work the recollection with me?” She grabbed Oberon’s hand to pull herself up from the couch and didn’t let go of his hand to greet me formally.

  After what I’d just seen, I wasn’t in a big hurry to shake hands with her, either, especially since she was eyeing me up like competition, and Oberon hadn’t shaken his hand free from hers. It was hard to believe just by looking at her that the vampires, especially ones as old and powerful as Agrona and Kedehern, would even give her a second thought. However, the look she was giving Oberon at the moment was making me glad the vampires had placed a time limit on her little visit. “So you’re working with her on the recollection?”

  “Yes, we’ve…well, you could say we’ve worked together before, and Graive said she’d get better results if she had a connection with the person assisting her. So, I volunteered, naturally.”