by L Ann
“So there, you see, is one reason why I am here, young Prince. Not as an ally. Just an advisor. And my advice to you is this. Don’t fight Rego on his terms. Don’t attempt to fight fire with fire. Be smart.”
“You say one reason?” Morgan spoke before Taz could. “What is the other?”
“Clever girl!” Custos beamed. “Rego may be insane, but he is also no fool. His Achilles Heel is right under your noses. Think about it. How has he attacked and what tools has he used?” He paused, glancing first at Morgan and then Taz. “No? Nothing comes to mind?”
“He uses children,” Taz offered.
Custos tapped the side of his nose. “But not just any children,” he said slyly.
When neither responded, Custos pulled a quick breath. “The Cabal have become adept over the millennia in mastering our bodies hidden potential – what the Egyptians called ka and the Chinese Monks call ch’i. In effect, the energies of the spirit or the soul. Through them we learned to focus and utilise the forces of the universe. Some might call it magic. As an Apprentice, Rego had, and still has, that ability. He uses it as a bridge for two purposes. First, to control his child-beast minions; and second, utilising the mental energy of another to shore up his own degenerating consciousness. Destroy the bridge and you destroy his shield.”
“The pack alpha,” Morgan said slowly. “In the recording. He showed us the means of his own destruction.” Her eyes swung to Custos. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Don’t misconstrue that as an error on his part,” Custos answered. “He is dying, and he knows it. On some level – deep though it is – he wants to be stopped. That, however, is not to say he won’t fight you as hard as he is able, right up to the end.”
“At the time we said he wanted us to see the boy, but we couldn’t understand why he set him up to be taken down. If, subconsciously, a part of him wants this madness to end, then allowing the boy to be recorded and recognised makes complete sense.” She glanced at Taz. “Kill the boy, kill the man. It’s that simple.”
Custos gave his head a slow admonishing shake. “Not that simple. Killing the boy would deprive Rego of his shield and eventually the madness would overtake him. The operative word here being, eventually. It won’t take hold instantly, he’ll still have enough mental clarity to give you a run for your money.”
“So, if we put the boy out of commission, it will do what? Weaken him?” Taz leaned his palms on the table and scowled at Custos. “Stop the word games. Just tell us what we need to know and let us get on with it.”
“You must do something about your manners,” Custos scowled back. “It’s very unbecoming for someone of your station.” The two remained eye to eye for a long moment and then Custos sighed. “I should also add that putting the young man out of commission, as you term it, won’t be an easy task. And that brings me to the second reason I am here. If you take nothing else from this conversation, heed this. You should talk to a certain Rroma Royal personage before arbitrarily deciding to take this child’s life. There is a reason that boy was chosen by Rego. During his stint as Rego’s commanding warrior, he has grown to enjoy his power, and he loves to kill.”
“As do I,” Taz responded coolly.
Custos gave him a derisive smile. “You kill out of necessity, not out of enjoyment. There is a stark difference between the two, young Prince.
“And if that is true, and you somehow succeed in this battle, I can guarantee you will derive no satisfaction from this kill, Prince I’Ane,” he added.
“I will be satisfied putting this rabid dog down,” Taz disagreed. “Whatever it takes.”
“We shall see, my friend,” Custos flashed a wry grin and in the next instant the space he once occupied in the recliner was composed of little else but the imprint of his derriere.
“Makes you wonder why he bothered coming in the normal way, doesn’t it?” Morgan remarked into the silence. She glanced down at her watch. “We should take another look at that footage and speak to Kizzy.”
~*~
It was Zuron’s suggestion, with the permission of Shadowfall’s owner, to sequester Queen Qetsiyah in one of the VIP suites in the west wing of the club’s top floor. An area set aside especially, and primarily for dignitaries of the Human persuasion. A trio of Pantera’s most intimidating security officers – armed, their weapons in plain sight – were placed in the hallway, at both ends and outside Kizzy’s door, on the off-chance some restless guest of the Vampire persuasion, might decide to assuage a bout of late night peckishness.
All three went into the standard potential threat alert, hands poised over the butts of their S9 machine pistols as Taz and Morgan approached. Password and counter-responses were exchanged and there was a minute’s delay while the senior S.O radioed in for clearance authentication.
“The Lady’s been called to announce you,” the S.O told them, tucking the compact walkie talkie into his waistband. “And she’s waiting.”
And she was, standing only a few feet beyond the door, dressed in one of Shadowfall’s complimentary silk bathrobes with a brimming glass of something darkly amber in hand.
“Oh, it’s you,” Kizzy murmured, disappointment evident in her expression, if not her tone. “They said someone was coming… someone,” she gestured with her glass, sloshing its contents over her hand. “Didn’t say it would be you two.
“Shoulda known… Zuron wouldn’t have the guts…” she chuckled and turned to stagger into the room. She made a wide, almost stumbling left-handed turn at the coffee table and a spinning ass-first landing on the couch. Somehow holding onto her drink in the process.
“No guns or knives visible,” she raised the glass, peering at them through it as she spoke, “so I assume you’re not here to whack me. Z’at how you people put it? Whack?”
“God, I hate drunks,” Morgan whispered.
Kizzy loosed a mirthless snort. “Drunk? I’ll have you know, baby girl, I could drink ten of you under the table when I was barely out of diapers. I’m pleasantly relaxed.”
“Glad to hear it, Your Highness. Then you should be able to handle a little mutually informative conversation,” Taz entered the exchange, jerking a thumb toward the bar. “You mind?”
Kizzy gave a sidelong nod. “Knock yourself out, Nikaran. It’s your party, I’m just visiting.”
Morgan followed as Taz made his way to the suite’s stocked bar, going behind it to select a bottle of twenty-five-year-old scotch. Morgan stood facing him, blocking the Rroma queen’s view.
“Zuron?” Morgan kept her voice low.
Taz nodded. “Yeah, I caught that. And I get the feeling it wasn’t accidental. Her Highness isn’t as relaxed as she wants us to believe she is.”
“Then let’s play into it. Who knows what she might let slip with the alcohol as an excuse.”
“Way ahead of you, baby girl,” Taz winked, poured himself a healthy glassful, then raised it in salute before rounding the bar to make his way to the couch’s opposite end. Morgan took a seat on one of the barstools, allowing Taz the position of primary focus in the exchange.
“You said mutual…” Kizzy swivelled, tucking her back more or less into the corner between the couch’s arm and backrest and crossed her legs. The movement caused the loosely belted robe to part at both ends. “So, what it is I have that you need, Prince I’Ane?”
Taz fought the impulse to avert his eyes, knowing all too well that Rroma females used techniques of seduction in their interaction with the males of any and/or all species as a way of exerting control, the way birds flew and fish swam. He’d let her believe it was working… for the moment.
“I’m curious,” Taz draped one arm over the backrest, mirroring her body positioning as he spoke. “Our friend wiped out your entire house guard, but he left you alive. I might be wrong, but I don’t think that was accidental. In fact, the whole thing has a personal air about it.”
“What makes you think he didn’t try to kill me, too?” Kizzy’s eyes dropped to her lap. He
r glass, more accurately, but only for an instant.
“Let’s just say because I’ve seen his work – up close and personal. This man doesn’t have a habit of making mistakes. He doesn’t have accidents. His attack on your place was calculated, methodical, and he took his own sweet time about it. He had more than enough time to do the job he came for. And if you were part of it, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.
“So, what the question is, or should be,” Taz pressed on, “is what’s this really all about? What’s the missing piece of this picture, Kizzy?”
Again, her eyes dropped away. More than that, Taz detected the slight but definite rise of moisture in their corners. A reaction which she attempted to delay, or at least conceal behind the swift rise of her glass and a lengthy quaff of its contents. She all but drained it, in fact, before allowing her arm to fall into her lap.
In the tense and suggestive slash of silence which followed, Taz threw a glance toward the bar, gesturing with his own glass. “Anna, would you mind bringing Her Highness a refill, please?”
As requested, Morgan retrieved a bottle which she assumed to be the one the Rroma queen had put a serious dent in prior to their arrival. Rather than do the honours, however, she placed it on the coffee table, allowing Kizzy to help herself. A feat she performed with surprising grace, contrary to her supposed inebriated state.
Her initial belt was a big one, leaving a fingerful in its wake.
“I should hate you,” she spoke, unable to stem the tide of wetness rising at the rim of her dark eyes. “The gods would stand witness to the years I screamed out my rage against the House Nikaris and you, Taz I’Ane, for what you took from me.”
Another, short dollop of silence was punctuated by a smile that seemed out of place compared to her present mood. “You have no idea what I’m talking about. I was right about you.” Kizzy, now on an emotion-fuelled roll, continued without waiting for a response. “You are your father’s son. More than you realise.
“Zuron was like you at your age. Brash. Arrogant. Impulsive. Unnaturally handsome and he knew it. Quite the catch for some privileged trueborn miss, as I’m certain your mother would agree.”
“And my bloodline applies to this conversation, how?” Taz prompted, his tone betraying his assumed exterior of detached coo. A sudden flutter of motion at the corner of his eye brought his attention to the bar and the almost imperceptible cautioning shake of Morgan’s head.
“We had a thing once,” Kizzy resumed. “Years before your mother, and before I took the throne. Neither of us took it seriously – just fun and laughs and sex. But I liked the sonofabitch. And I assumed he felt the same. It’s why we stayed friends after he married Elsbeth. There was even a little backroom gossip about it,” she shot Taz a wry grin. “Although you were so young, I don’t suppose you picked up on any of it.”
“People say lots of things about my father. It’s the kind of thing you expect with being a leader of a House,” Taz said, hoping it didn’t show that the conversation was getting under his skin. “Can we get back to why you should hate me?”
Kizzy refilled her glass, tossed him a salute, gulped, and continued. Her eyes were glistening again.
“He was such a beautiful boy. A true angel. As different as a blazing hot summer’s day and a moonless night from his father. I called him my miracle child,” she hugged herself, tears flowing freely now. “I had an incident in my wild youth. A knife fight with a rival princess. And because of it, I was told that I would never have children.
“And then I met him.”
“Him, as in Rego?” Morgan joined the exchange.
Kizzy chuckled, bitterly. “That’s not his true name, you know? And it wasn’t the name he went by when we were together. But yes, him. The same man who killed all my guards and abducted my nephew.”
“And left you alive. Why?” Morgan pressed.
Kizzy shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe as a punishment. Or because he knew that Zuron would send someone – maybe you. And it looks as if he was right.”
“Let me see if I’m getting this right. You and him – you had a child together? A son?” Taz pressed further.
“And you killed him!” Kizzy growled, and with such venom that Taz almost leapt back. “YOU! Almost fifty years ago. Luxembourg, the Grand Hotel Cravat. Do you remember, you murdering bastard?”
Straining to conceal the fact that her reveal did strike a chord in his mind, Taz felt the muscles in his stomach clench.
Kizzy continued. “I don’t know all the details. I was away at the time – on Clan business in Athens – but as I understand it, you shot as he came out of the hotel, while he walked to board a limo.” She took pause again, gulping her drink, then rose and paced – unsteadily to be sure.
“He idolised his father. Wanted to be just like him. He was wearing Rego’s coat when you…” her words trailed into breathy silence as she turned to glare at Taz.
“I’m… tired. And drunk” she said. “So, if the two of you wouldn’t mind… get the fuck out.”
~*~
“And that’s where we’re at now,” Taz concluded and took a long drink from his glass of scotch while he waited for his father to respond to his explanation of the events of the evening.
“We need to show Kizzy the footage and get her to confirm the boy in it is her nephew,” Morgan added.
“And do what? Ask her permission to kill him?” Zuron shook his head. “She will never believe he has gone rogue, nor will she agree to taking his life.”
“Well, I don’t know about anyone else, but I wasn’t planning on giving her the option,” Taz said. “There’s always an expected amount of collateral damage in this kind of situation.”
“And if we kill him without making her aware first, it could bring retaliation from the Rroma House,” Morgan argued. “Whether she agrees with our course of action or not, ensuring she knows what he has done and is doing will keep our own backs covered when we take him down.”
“Well, we’re going to need luck there. That tape, Salman’s photography isn’t exactly damning,” Taz observed. “We know her nephew’s the alpha, the one who lead that attack, but you can barely make out his face. How are we gonna convince…” Taz’s commentary eased to a halt as he noticed that all eyes were on him and the thought behind their gazes became apparent.
“No. No! Please tell me you’re not… you can’t be serious!”
“What choice do we have, Taz?” Morgan said with a resigned shrug. “As you have just pointed out, the tape alone will not be enough to convince Kizzy that her nephew is the one or that he’s not being coerced. But, if she sees it for herself she won’t be able to deny it.”
“She’ll be a liability. The woman may well be the ruler of her House, but I’ll bet she hasn’t seen a minute’s action out in the field.”
“If she doesn’t see what her nephew is doing, when we kill him it’ll cause conflict between the Houses. It’s the only way, Taz,” Morgan told him.
“It’s gonna be hard enough out there, watching our own asses, without having to babysit hers too,” Taz pointed out.
“If you have a better idea, I’d like to hear it,” Morgan challenged him.
“I don’t. I’m just saying! Our chances of taking out this Rego bastard… of surviving… are what? Less than seventy-thirty in his favour? Taking an inexperienced civilian into the equation drops them to ninety-twenty? Zero? We need an edge. An ace in the hole.”
Morgan caught and held his eyes, then gave a slow smile. “I can go one better.” Pulling out her cell, she hit a number. “Hey, are you busy?” she asked when the call connected. “Could you come up to Zuron’s suite? We need backup.” Cutting the call, she grinned at Taz. “Call your friend Wylde, Taz. Kane’s on his way up.”
Laughing, Taz nodded and fished out his own cell, then moved a short distance away to make the call.
“Kane, I can understand. Even agree on,” Zuron said in a low voice. “But Fallon Wylde? A professional me
rcenary – and a good one, by all reports. But the man is… how can I say this?”
“Crazy as the legendary shit house rat?” Hamish offered.
“And what we need most right now is some shit house crazy,” Taz rejoined them. “Fallon wasn’t in his suite,” he told Morgan. “But I caught him at his place in the U-District. He’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”
Chapter 13
“The amount of testosterone in that corner could sink a battleship,” Hamish remarked to his daughter in a low voice. Morgan followed his gaze to where Taz, Fallon and Kane stood near the wet bar laughing over some shared escapade.
“If only that was all we needed to defeat Rego,” she replied, causing her father to chuckle.
Feeling her eyes on him, Taz raised his head to smile at her and motioned for her to join them. As she reached them, Fallon was asking if Taz had any clue where Rego would be holed up.
“That’s problem number one,” Taz said. “He doesn’t seem to have any pattern.”
“And problem number two is he’s surrounded himself with a rabid pack who will kill themselves to keep him safe,” Morgan added.
“Taz mentioned that. Children…” Kane murmured, eyes dropping to his glass and swirling the contents over the near-melted shards of ice within. His expression, both pensive and cloud. “Déjà Vu.” He looked up then, meeting Morgan’s eyes.
“From what we’ve been told, that’s probably what inspired him,” she said. “And, believe me, this pack is even worse.”
“Let me get this straight,” Fallon joined the conversation. “We have a pack of rabid child vampires running around under instruction from a renegade Cabal wannabe-master, who may or may not be insane, has one of the Rroma heirs doing his dirty work and has a one-man vendetta against Taz? That about sum it up?”