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Knights of Obsidian

Page 3

by Shannon Lynn Cook


  “You and Rafe.” He looks toward the ceiling, almost rolling his eyes. “I’m a Wolf.”

  Oh, right. His particular faction has heightened hearing and all that.

  Rafe comes in and shuts the door, looking almost pleased—as if maybe he didn’t forget Gray could hear us whispering through the thin motel wall. Setting my hands on my hips, I look back at Gray and purse my lips, trying to figure out how to pick up my rant. I wasn’t finished.

  “I thought you were my friend,” I finally say, giving up, and just like that, all the fight leaves me. “I thought we were a team.”

  The blasted Wolf watches me. Stars above, the man is handsome. He’s all dark hair, trim and toned muscles, and eyes the color of a winter sea. Why does he have to look so good, sitting there disheveled and angry, handcuffed to the chair?

  And let’s take a minute to address my own shortcomings. A girl shouldn’t be even the tiniest bit attracted to a person who wants her dead. I mean, do I have any self-preservation whatsoever? I’m like Chicken Little, all googly-eyed over the fox, ignoring all his shortcomings, following him blindly into his cave. Except in this scenario, I’m technically the fox. And there wasn’t a wolf in that tale, as far as I can remember.

  Anyway.

  It’s not that I want Gray—I don’t. Been there, done that, learned my lesson. But still, we have history. And this hurts.

  “Do you think this is easy for me? I want to believe you, Madeline,” he says solemnly, making me want to smack him. And since when does he use my name? “But I can’t afford to. Let’s say you’re telling the truth—despite your magic, you want nothing but sunshine and roses and happily ever afters. But what if you stumble? What if the allure of power and control is too much? You could kill thousands—no, millions of people. Not only our people, who have an iota of a chance of defending themselves and their families, but humans, who are completely and utterly helpless.”

  “I’m not going to stumble.” I let my hands drop, suddenly exhausted. “Not with you all by my side, supporting me, keeping me strong. Gray, surely you must see that. And you know me well enough to believe me.”

  He watches me for a long time. “You said you’re going to open the thresholds.”

  I admit that might sound rather evil-queenish of me, but he needs to understand my motivation.

  “I only want to send the shadow creatures back to Aparia, where they belong, and then Jonathan will close the thresholds once more.”

  I take a peek at Jonathan, wondering what he’ll think of his involvement in my plan since I haven’t spoken with him yet. He frowns but doesn’t argue, at least not now—not in front of Gray.

  “And what if our people on the other side aren’t prepared to deal with an influx of that magnitude?” Gray demands. “Are you just going to leave them to it?”

  To be honest, I don’t want to think of that right now. Sure, it’s crossed my mind, but I have no easy answer.

  “I haven’t figured that out yet.” I take a step forward, begging him to understand. “Gray, I don’t even know where the thresholds are or how to open them. It’s not like we’re going to form a merry fellowship and take off tonight. It’s going to take time. Give me a chance to prove myself to you. Later, if you decide I’m going to ‘the dark side,’ then fine. Kill me.”

  Rafe growls, but it finally seems like I might be getting through to Gray.

  To Jonathan, the Wolf says, “Read her. Tell me exactly what she’s thinking.”

  “She’s telling the truth,” Jonathan answers. “I’ve been watching.”

  “I want you in her head,” Gray barks, leaving no room for argument.

  A knot forms in my stomach, and I slowly turn to Jonathan. I can’t have that—not now, not ever. How am I supposed to keep up the lie if Jonathan can poke around my thoughts at his leisure?

  The Griffon looks just as hesitant—probably because right now, he doesn’t want in my head any more than I want him there.

  But there’s no other way.

  Stepping forward, he extends his hand. I stare at it for a fraction of a second, and then I swallow my nerves and press my palm to his.

  I keep my thoughts blank, focusing on the room alone. If I let my mind wander—

  No.

  Just the room. Charles sleeps on the bed, curled up in the crease between the flat pillows. His body rises and falls as he breathes, and though asleep, he wears a look of disgust on his feline face.

  Think of kittens, think of Prada. Think of makeup, shoes, and purses.

  “It’s all as she says,” Jonathan assures Gray, breaking the contact. I eye him, unsure how to respond. He stares back at me, his dark brown eyes enigmatic. We both know he didn’t learn anything from those few tense seconds. But he trusts me.

  “And besides,” Jonathan continues, “if you turn her in, or worse—kill her, you’ll have to admit to the entire Knights’ Guild that you had the Obsidian Queen on your team for the last several months, and you never realized it.”

  Gray’s gaze flickers between Jonathan and me, and dark amusement twinges his expression. After several long moments, he lets out a groan laced with a curse. “Fine. I won’t hurt her—take these cuffs off me.”

  Rafe looks at Jonathan. “Is he telling the truth?”

  “Yeah.”

  Jonathan is just unlocking the cuffs when Gray’s phone rings. The leader of our team rubs his wrists, scowling, and then pulls the cell from his pocket. “It’s Finn,” he says, looking less than enthusiastic.

  Neither he nor I are on the greatest of terms with his half-brother, who just happens to be heir to the highest government seat held by Aparians on this side of the thresholds—but for different reasons.

  Gray’s still angry that Finn turned out to be a compulsive gambler and attempted to pay his gambling debts with less than legal means. I’m angry because the rat cheated on me with my best friend several months ago.

  “Hello,” Gray says, sitting straighter, looking like he’s preparing for an inquisition. Surely by now news that the Monroe Mansion burned to the ground has reached the guild headquarters.

  I cross my arms, waiting. Eric, Jonathan, and Rafe focus on Gray as well, the first two looking slightly more concerned than the third.

  “Fine,” Gray says, and then he hangs up.

  Feigning indifference, Eric asks, “Well?”

  “The four of us are to report to the Royal Guild on Friday,” Gray answers, excluding Rafe because the Fox isn’t technically a team member, at least not anymore. “We’re going in for questioning.”

  But there’s more; I can sense it.

  “What?” I ask, wary.

  Gray shoves his phone into his back pocket. “Apparently the human responders found several unidentifiable animal carcasses at the site, and the media jumped on it before we had a chance to shut it down.”

  Oh. Well.

  That’s probably not good.

  4

  “People all across the country are speculating about the identity of the creature remains found in the Redstone Fire,” a woman on the radio says. “We’ve brought in zoologist Richard Grevens to speak with us today and hopefully answer a few of our questions. Richard, let’s jump right in. What do you believe the authorities have found in Redstone?”

  “Well, Annabeth, as you’ve said, people are already coming up with some crazy stories. We’ve heard everything from UFOs to chupacabras, Big Foot, and a plethora of other outlandish mythical monsters, but the truth is, we just don’t have enough information yet. I haven’t studied the creatures myself, but I have seen photographs of the remains, and I can truthfully say they’re not like anything of which I’m familiar.”

  “So…we truly might be dealing with something unknown?” Annabeth asks, lowering her voice like this is the most exciting thing she’s reported all year.

  “I don’t want to stir an already bubbling pot, but I will tell you…” The zoologist pauses, chuckling to himself. “I’m very intrigued.”

&n
bsp; “As are we. Thank you very much for your time—”

  I unbuckle my seatbelt and reach between the front seats to flick the radio to a different channel, which also appears to be news. Thankfully, this reporter is going on about abducted fashion models in Las Vegas and not charred monsters in the Colorado woods.

  Still, I’m not in the mood for that either, so I flick it off completely before I sit down again.

  Eric glances at me from the passenger seat, smiling. “You know, I would have turned it off if you’d just asked.”

  We’re on our way to the Royal Guild in Jonathan’s Hummer, off to explain what the heck happened. But it’s okay. Gray has a plan: tell them the truth. Most of it anyway. Pretty much everything except my part in it.

  I’m confident it will go over swimmingly.

  I glance at Gray, who’s next to me in the back. He’s been extremely quiet for the last several days, and I can’t tell if it’s because he’s nervous or merely indifferent to my presence. At least he’s not trying to kill me—I’ll call that a win.

  Since he’s not part of the team, Rafe couldn’t accompany us today. If it weren’t for the fact that I would be hunted down for ditching an official questioning, I’m sure he wouldn’t have let me out of his sight. But he left me under Jonathan’s protection, though that is almost laughable. Griffons aren’t usually given the position of bodyguard.

  Gray, true to his word, hasn’t pulled a dagger on me again. I feel we’re moving forward. Not that the five of us are going to be posing in colorful sweaters for a group Christmas card or anything, but it’s progress nonetheless.

  Jonathan pulls into the Royal Guild’s parking lot and chooses a spot near the front. The building looks like a fussy law office. In truth, the Guild does have a few lawyers—Aparian not human. They’re licensed and legit, though they mostly represent a nearby ski resort owned by a wealthy couple of Dragons and turn most everything else down.

  Gray lets out a long breath as soon as Jonathan turns off the vehicle. “You all know your story.” It’s less a question and more a command. Basically, get this right or else.

  The three of us nod.

  Gray turns to me, his frown deepening. “You’re going to need to play the damsel in distress. The girl you were at the beginning of the summer would be hysterical right now.”

  I study him, questioning whether that’s a compliment. I think it might be.

  “I’m feeling pretty hysterical on the inside.” I dig in my purse for my compact and hold up the mirror as I dab a light layer of gloss on my lips. “It shouldn’t be a problem.”

  Gray raises an eyebrow, and—wait—is that a smile? It’s barely there, but I swear there’s the tiniest curve to his lips. “Be all the princess you can be.”

  I snort out a laugh, flip the compact shut, and stash the makeup back in my purse. The car is quiet for a moment as we each take a collective breath before the storm hits.

  A few minutes later, we’re walking into the office. I’m wearing my favorite pair of sky-high, slingback black stilettos today—they make me feel brave—paired with a pencil skirt and a modest, amethyst silk blouse that screams beloved daughter of a respected Royal Guild official.

  Part of me wishes my dad were here. Another part is desperately glad he’s in New Zealand.

  And the last part? That part wishes I was in New Zealand.

  Finn’s secretary waits for us outside the meeting room, her face creased with nerves. Agatha is about seven months pregnant with her fifth or sixth child—I lost count after the third. When she sees me, her face softens. I’ve always liked her, even if she didn’t bother to tell me Finn was cheating on me with Maisy. Maybe she didn’t know. Maybe she didn’t want to know.

  “Madeline,” she says, crossing the room, her eyes too compassionate.

  What the heck is waiting for us if she’s looking at me like I’m a lamb about to go to slaughter?

  “How are you?” she asks before she looks me over.

  I press a hand to my stomach, wishing I was only pretending to be rattled, but real tears sting my eyes. “Physically, I’m fine. But I want to forget the whole ordeal.”

  She presses her lips together, giving me a genuinely sympathetic nod. Then she squeezes my hand. “It will be all right.”

  “Are they ready for us?” Gray asks, as ready to get this over with as I am.

  Agatha nods. “Yes. I was instructed to bring you in as soon as you arrived.”

  Here we go.

  Gray walks through the double doors first, followed by Jonathan. They each go tense the moment they’re in the room. Quite frankly, that doesn’t seem like a very good sign.

  And then I pass the door and see why. It’s not just Finn, a couple suits, and maybe Gray’s boss waiting for us—no.

  The head of the Knights’ Guild, Lord Traverly, is seated on Finn’s right. Gray’s boss, Brad, is to Finn’s left—he looks particularly agitated, likely due to the fact that we burned his Porsche to a crisp. Additionally, all four of the Grand Duke’s advisors are in attendance, including the highest in their ranks, Lord Bennet. There are half a dozen additional faces I don’t even recognize.

  The men all sit at a gleaming conference counter, with the exception of Lord Bennet. He stands behind the table, in front of the back window.

  The room is unnaturally quiet despite there being so many in attendance, and the tension could be cut with a knife.

  “Madeline,” Lord Bennet says when his eyes meet mine. The man isn’t very tall, only five foot ten, and his brown hair is peppered with gray. He’s of the Draconem faction—the Dragons—a master of elements, specializing in fire. Despite his turbulent magic, he’s a kind man with a compassionate way about him. He’s the sort of man who puts people at ease, and it’s why he does so well in his position. People trust him. They value his opinions.

  But right now, his eyes are hard, and his hands are clasped behind his back in a closed-off, too-official sort of way.

  My stomach clenches, and there’s a fifty percent chance I’m going to be ill. “Hi, Dad.”

  Five hours later, we’re still in the interrogation. I don’t think I’ve ever sweated so much in my life—what a horrible decision to wear silk. I’ve cried several times—stoic, silent tears—my mind full of the faces of the people we failed to protect.

  The men in the room think it’s because I’m an emotional female, and not because I feel personally responsible for the creatures’ destruction, so yay me. Does it hurt that I’m Lord Bennet’s precious daughter? Nope, it does not.

  “I still don’t understand why such a large multitude of the creatures would flock to the mansion,” Lord Traverly says, leaning forward with his elbow on the table, his eyes boring into Gray. “Something must have drawn them. Is there anything you’re forgetting to tell us?”

  And to his credit, our Wolf doesn’t flinch.

  Jonathan clears his throat, pulling the men’s attention to him. “There were so-called ghost hunters in attendance. Madeline and I paid them little attention, but one evening at dinner, they showed us a collection of their photographic evidence. Their ‘ghosts’ were shadow creatures. Perhaps they angered the beasts?”

  Brad looks skeptical, but it seems as good a reason as any.

  “It doesn’t matter at this point,” Finn says with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We already have people cleaning up the mess the media made.”

  My ex is handsome—dashing, dark hair, expensive suit. I was head over heels in love with him when I was young and stupid. “I don’t think there’s anything else we can do right now.”

  He looks exhausted.

  Lord Traverly sits back and turns to Gray. “I’d say your top priority should be to find the pixie who’s stalking Madeline, but if he has a clipeum medallion, I have no idea where you’d start. For now, get back to your regular duties and be cautious. I have a job for you—a chance for you and your team to redeem yourselves. I’ll speak with you after the meeting.”

&nbs
p; “Yes, sir.”

  The head of the Knights’ Guild looks back at me. “Also, I want one of you with Madeline at all times until this pixie is apprehended.”

  Brad, Mr. Deceased Porsche himself, apparently isn’t finished. “You know what I want to know? What’s really eating me about this whole thing?”

  We turn to him, waiting. The man is like a dog on a bone. My stomach has already tied itself in knots, but it gives another little tug just for good measure.

  “Why did the shadow beasts leave, Gray? If there were as many as you claim, there’s no way you could have taken control of the situation. You should have died out there.”

  The man doesn’t look at me—of course he doesn’t. Not only is the Obsidian Queen supposed to be dead, but no one knows I’m adopted. It’s not like he’s speculating I’m the cause. But with the way my throat closes, he might as well be.

  “And that’s a question that might never be answered.” Dad rises, efficiently bringing the interrogation to an end. Calmly, he scans the room, letting his eyes rest on each man in attendance. “What happened was an unfortunate tragedy. But these things do happen—even to our best knight marshals. The creatures are, and always have been, unpredictable. I am simply thankful we didn’t lose any of our men. Or my daughter.”

  All in attendance murmur their agreement.

  “I want to be compensated for my car,” Brad grouches. “It was there on guild business.”

  “Don’t you have insurance on it?” Finn demands, losing his patience.

  The man’s face darkens, and he mutters to himself.

  Gray motions for me to rise, and the four of us turn to leave. I step through the door and suck in a lungful of air. The questioning didn’t go well, and no one is particularly pleased with us, but it could have been far worse.

  “I’ll walk you out,” Gray says. “Then I’ll talk to Lord Traverly.”

  “Madeline,” my father says from the door of the conference room, calling me back.

 

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