by Petra Landon
“He’s telekinetic” she muttered. That was how Roman had retrieved the locket enmeshed with Clan magic from around Sienna’s neck.
Tasia girded herself, the cage still vivid in her, reinforced by the nightmare she was trying her best to bury in the farthest recesses of her mind.
“Does it hurt?” There was a breathless quality to her voice. For the first time, she made no effort to hide her underlying concern for his wound.
“I’ll live, witchling.” His voice was soft.
For a moment, there was silence between them.
“Who’d you think I was when I crashed into you?” he asked curiously.
Tasia shook her head. “No … no one” she stuttered, discomposed by the question. Simeonov had done nothing to make her feel wary of him. She would not take advantage of her unique position in the Pack to whine about a gut feeling she had about the Were-Alpha.
“Come on.” His voice was persuasive. “Share, witchling.”
Tasia felt an unexpected spurt of laughter well up in her, but before she could say anything, a voice called out to him. With his attention momentarily distracted, Tasia slipped away.
As she made her way back to Hawk, she couldn’t help but muse on the conversation. A tad surreal and very unlike the Alpha, she concluded. There had been a flippancy in him tonight. In another person, she would call it playful. But this was the Alpha. He didn’t do playful, nothing close to it. Yet, Tasia was relieved. Neither the fresh exposure to silver nor the highly-charged encounter with the Guardians seemed to have affected him. Both the encounter and the silver had alarmed her. Especially after Russian Hill.
Ten minutes later, the Alpha and DiZeyla made their way to join the group at the back of the plane.
Roman turned to the Alpha, blunt and direct. “You can be a vengeful bastard, Merceau. I wouldn’t want to get on your bad side.”
Raoul glanced at the Ancient. “You think I was unfair to the Guardians?”
“Not unfair, no.” Roman was frank. “But I would not have unleashed the Undead on them.”
His words made Tasia recall her early encounters with the Alpha. She had always known that he would make a formidable enemy — relentless, tenacious, unforgiving and dangerous. It was what had made her wary of tangling with him or associating with his Pack. His word was law in the Pack, so any association with his Shifters was impossible without taking him into account. Ironically, he’d dangled these very qualities of his to tempt her to reconsider a new affiliation with his Pack. Tasia had given in, partly because she could ill afford to turn down an ally who packed the combined punch of power, influence, resolve and prowess. The very savagery and ruthless intent that made him so deadly to anyone who crossed him became an asset when deployed on her behalf.
“On the other hand” the Ancient continued, holding the Alpha’s eyes, “You let Anderson go to trial.”
If the Alpha had succumbed to his thirst for vengeance, Roman would not have blamed him. But the Chosen would have squandered a valuable opportunity. And for that, Roman was relieved. The Alpha had gone up in his estimation.
Raoul acknowledged the subtle compliment with a nod. He had almost succumbed to his instincts until reminded of what was at stake. As usual, he mused whimsically, Duncan had played a part in his decision to let better sense prevail. As the English Shifter had before during many of the pivotal points in his life. Duncan was like his conscience, a silent presence that would always remind Raoul to work for the larger goal instead of reaching for short term gratification.
Surprisingly, it was DiZeyla who responded to Roman Durovic. “The Mistress merely caused the Guardians a little humiliation. They’ll survive that a lot easier than anything else Raoul unleashed on them.”
“The Guardians have always considered us Shifters to be savages” Luis said matter-of-factly.
For just a moment, it looked like Jason might protest, before he subsided. There was nothing Jason could refute. Wizards, especially the ones with power, had always looked down on Shifters.
“This’ll merely reinforce that view of us” Luis continued. “We’re savage, crude, barbaric, and will not hesitate to teach you a lesson, if you cross us. I would say the Alpha drove the point home rather well.”
“Had I laid hands on Anderson then, I wouldn’t have stopped at a little humiliation” Raoul said evenly.
There was a short silence.
“You think the Guardians got Raoul’s message?” Duncan unexpectedly pulled Jason into the fray.
“Unquestionably” Jason agreed without hesitation.
He glanced at Raoul, who watched him silently. “For what it’s worth, you did the right thing, Merceau, and delivered just the right mix of shock, humiliation and savagery. The GCW has heard your message loud and clear. Whether they can or will turn their sinking ship around is another matter altogether.” The last was said heavily. There had been nothing subtle about Faoladh’s threat, either.
Jason had mixed feelings about this evening. While he believed strongly that Anderson should be punished, the Guardians’ public display of dysfunction saddened him. The Wizards were about to enter a period of singular instability. It couldn’t have come at a worse time, especially with the threat of Lady Bethesda looming large.
“This is a team” Raoul remarked, sensing that a timely reminder would not go amiss. “An unlikely one, I’ll admit.” There was wry acknowledgement in his voice as he glanced around at Roman Durovic, Luis Beltran, Jason LaRue, Duncan, Tasia, Hawk and DiZeyla.
“You mean, we sink or swim together” Roman murmured, an answering smile on his lips.
“Speak for yourself, Durovic” the Alpha retorted, completely straight-faced. “Raoul Merceau does not sink. He always swims.”
Roman chuckled softly, while Hawk let out a laugh. Even Duncan had a twinkle in his eyes as he turned to Jason, who seemed to be hiding a smile.
“I guess I should thank the stars to be on the right team, then” Jason responded.
“You should, LaRue” the Alpha concurred. “You’ve played a part in our success.”
Jason glanced at the Alpha. Whatever he read on the Shifter’s face seemed to satisfy him, for he gave him a discreet nod to acknowledge that the message had been received loud and clear.
“How did you know that Anderson had been searching for Azevedo’s daughter, Merceau?” Jason asked curiously.
“I didn’t.” Raoul was candid. “It was a shot in the dark.”
Jason’s eyes widened as Roman and DiZeyla turned to stare at the Alpha. Tasia remained silent while Hawk and Duncan, who knew something of Tasia’s history with Azevedo, kept their poker faces on.
“It wasn’t that hard to guess” Raoul pointed out with a quirk of his lips as Jason looked gobsmacked. “Anderson admitted to me at the Registry that he was searching for someone. I knew about the blood he’d been taking from the Wizards. Then, you told me that he was once Azevedo’s friend. I figured he had access to Azevedo’s DNA from his time with the GCW. And, the timelines of when Azevedo is rumored to have been killed and the age of the Wizard Anderson was searching for added up to only one conclusion.”
“When you put it like that, it makes sense” Jason muttered thoughtfully. “I wonder why no one else tied this together.”
“No one else was looking for the connection. The GCW, which should have noted it, has no time to spare from squabbling with the First Wizard. But thanks to you, I knew about the muggings in the other metros, his friendship with Azevedo and Azevedo’s history with both the Guardians and the leeches.”
“Being an outsider can sometimes give one a unique perspective” Roman chimed in unexpectedly. “Perhaps Merceau was able to put it together where you could not because you’re too close to the events, Jason.”
“I suppose being a Guardian put me at a disadvantage in this situation — unable to see the forest for the trees, when it was right in front of me” Jason agreed.
Duncan studied the Guardian. “You’re one of the few men I know who will al
ways see both the forest and the trees, Jason” he remarked, attempting in his way to shore up Jason’s ambivalent and complicated feelings regarding this evening’s events. “It might take a little time sometimes, but you’ll always get there.”
Jason smiled, appreciative of the compliment. The Alpha was right, he realized. They were truly a team, facing trying circumstances together. He was genuinely puzzled by their journey, though. How had such an unlikely and motley bunch of Chosen come together to form a bond that defied logic? Yet, it had happened. And for that, Jason could not but be glad.
“Bringing the Mistress along was a good idea, Raoul” DiZeyla remarked into the silence. “She served her purpose well.”
“Franciszka can be an asset in the right circumstances” Raoul acknowledged.
“If given the right incentive, you mean?” DiZeyla persisted.
“I’ve had my run-ins with her, DiZeyla. I never make the mistake of underestimating Franciszka for the formidable foe she is. But with her, you always have to set very strict boundaries. I don’t make many demands of her, but she knows not to renege when I make an agreement with her.”
“I thought some of the Guardians were going to erupt when she told them the Clan was watching their implosion with interest” Luis interjected.
“I hope her words get through to the Guardians” Jason remarked soberly. “Between Faoladh, the Mistress, Roman, and what happened tonight, perhaps the GCW will see sense.”
He glanced at the Alpha. “Your timely reminder about Lady Bethesda should hopefully not go amiss, either” he added.
“You believe things will change?” DiZeyla asked the only Guardian amongst them.
“I can hope” Jason said heavily. “No matter how rough things have been in the past, the Guardians have not lost control of the Wizards this publicly before. If nothing else, this should shame them into righting their ship.”
“David has been very concerned about matters at Headquarters for a while now, but I did not expect this much disarray” DiZeyla confessed.
“Neither did I” Roman Durovic conceded. “This does not portend well, not for any Chosen.”
He glanced at the others, his expression serious.
“If Lady Bethesda is readying to unleash the past on us, it’s not the time for Chosen to fight amongst ourselves. Divided, we fall to her.”
“Did you mean what you said about informing ElThor?” DiZeyla asked her fellow Ancient.
“I’ll head north first to update TorElnor, before we ask for an audience with ElThor. Faoladh didn’t seem surprised this evening, so my guess is he knows how bad things are. We need saner minds to prevail” Roman said grimly. “Perhaps between Faoladh and ElThor, the Guardians might be brought to see sense before it’s too late.”
“Faoladh has known how bad things are for a while now, Durovic” Raoul reminded him. “Why do you think he asked the Pack to investigate Lady Bethesda? The Guardians are the best people to investigate one of their own, especially one who’s intricately tied to their recent past.”
Roman glanced at him inquiringly.
“She’s divided the GCW in the past” the Alpha pointed out. “Then, other Chosen forced the Guardians to clean house by threatening to do it for them.”
“Faoladh’s always suspected that she’s not dead” Roman murmured thoughtfully.
“I think he suspected that she’s not done. Whatever she started in the past is yet to come to fruition, and it affects all Chosen, not just the Wizards.”
The First Ones held considerable sway when it came to bringing together Chosen of all stripes. And Raoul knew that unless the Ancients considered Lady Bethesda a threat, they would not bestir themselves to stop her. While his assistance on the investigation was welcome, the Alpha wanted Roman to convince the First Ones on the exigency of stopping Lady Bethesda.
“Is that what you believe, Raoul?” DiZeyla asked. She was not privy to Lady Bethesda or the investigation into the past, but she had grasped that this investigation into a Guardian long believed dead was significant. Roman Durovic assisted it, a Guardian was involved in it, at the First Wizard’s urging, and Faoladh had initiated it. All this suggested to DiZeyla that the matter was vital.
“What we have dug up certainly suggests that” the Alpha conceded.
DiZeyla directed a glance at him, poker-faced as usual, but he understood what she meant.
“We won’t keep this from the Chosen for long, DiZeyla” Raoul assured her. “This affects everyone, so it’s only right we warn them. But the time’s not ripe yet. We’ve uncovered much but there are still pieces to fit together before we can lay bare the puzzle.”
“Don’t leave it too late, Raoul” DiZeyla reminded him.
The Alpha acquiesced silently.
“How’s the arm, Alph?” Hawk inquired as the Alpha stretched his arm slowly, clearly trying to work on his stiff muscles.
“Hurts like hell.” Raoul was blunt.
Roman studied the Alpha, his eyes full of speculation. “You said something to Anderson about the past giving you immunity to silver. Are you immune to silver, Merceau?” Roman had never heard of a Shifter not going down at the first touch of silver. The Alpha had shown enormous fortitude this evening. It made Roman curious.
“Not completely” Raoul admitted. “But I’ve more immunity than the average Wyr.”
“How …?” Roman searched for the right words.
Duncan’s eyes were watchful while the other Shifters watched their Alpha intently, waiting to see whether he would answer the question. The others merely looked very curious. Tasia had to admit that she awaited his answer with bated breath.
“In the past, I was exposed to silver in small doses. Since then, I’ve became more tolerant of the poison. You could say my immune system adapted to it eventually, instead of breaking down.”
“Does silver still hurt, Alph?” Hawk asked quietly.
“Fucking hell, does it not.” The Alpha’s voice was heart-felt. “I’ve no immunity from the pain of the poison, but it takes a lot of silver to bring me down.”
“This exposure to silver.” Roman’s brow was furrowed. “Were you trying to build immunity to it, Merceau?”
The Alpha’s gold eyes tangled with Roman Durovic’s gaze. “No, I was held captive by a Chosen who wanted to break me. One of her many attempts involved using silver on me to see at what point I would beg for mercy.”
Appalled shock flashed across the faces of his audience. Only Duncan looked unaffected, though a discerning observer might note he seemed to subtly relax. Luis and Hawk, with some knowledge of the past, but without the details, looked grim.
A numb Tasia stared at him, speechless at the admission. Not only Bianchi’s insinuations, but the Alpha himself had hinted at something dark in his past — a wrong done to him. But this was no ordinary wrong. A wave of compassion for him, mixed with anger and horror, assailed her.
He had silver used on him before, too — this is why he confused his past and present in the cage.
How unspeakably cruel that yet another Wizard had picked at the old wounds, using silver to try to break him again, Tasia mused. She glanced at the handsome, enigmatic face as the awful confession echoed in her mind. No wonder he wore a mask to screen his inner self from the world. This man had enormous reserves. She’d seen him fight back in the cage, despite the silver and his past. After her experience in the cage and the nightmares, Tasia could grasp the horrendous torture he had endured in the past. Yet, despite everything, he seemed unbreakable, with an iron-will, determination, and the resolve to never give in.
“Did no one put a stop to it, Raoul?” DiZeyla broke the silence, clearly horrified by his admission.
“Eventually” he admitted, his tone dispassionate. “But by then, the damage was done.”
For the first time, talking about the past came easily to Raoul. The cage had finally banished the shadows from the shed, once and for all. The tortured memories would be with him for the rest of his life,
but now Raoul knew that he would never again be haunted by them. His mind had finally pushed the memories into the past where they belonged. While his life would continue to be shaped by the past, he was confident that the shadows would no longer keep pulling him back to the agony, silence, fear and despair of the shed.
“Why did she come after you, Merceau?” Roman asked.
After the initial reaction, Roman’s expression had blanked. But hidden in the depths of his eyes lay the knowledge of a key to understanding the puzzle of Raoul Merceau. Roman trusted the Alpha and respected him. He would even admit that he liked the guy. But until now, he could not admit that he understood the Alpha. While a good judge of people and character, the guarded Alpha with the fearsome reputation, inscrutable eyes, commanding presence and iron self-control had defeated Roman from the very beginning of their acquaintance. The enigma of the man had mystified Roman. Yet, despite the Alpha’s clinical retelling of the past, Roman understood immediately that the event had shaped Raoul Merceau into the man he was today. He had known, of course, that there was some mystery in the Alpha’s past. Like other Chosen who kept their ears to the ground, he’d heard the whispers about the mysterious and formidable young Shifter who had won command over one of the largest Packs in North America. But Roman had not paid the Alpha much attention before, because under normal circumstances, the path of a First One would rarely cross that of a Wyr Alpha Protector.
The Alpha studied the other Chosen. “I wasn’t pure blood enough for her. She wanted to torture the Wyr out of me.”
My God … No wonder he hates Wizards. How on earth did he ever agree to accept me in the Pack?
There was a swift intake of breath from the audience. Even the Shifters were affected. This, they had been unaware of.
Only Duncan studied the Alpha with clinical eyes. Somehow, he realized, Raoul had turned a corner. The assault on Russian Hill had forced Raoul to confront the past and he had walked away stronger.
“It’s a question I’ve asked myself many times, Durovic” the Alpha continued, the words flowing easier. “My guess is she was drunk on power, and it corrupted her in a way where she lost sight of her moral compass.”