by Amy Patrick
My heart iced over in my chest. What was he saying? Was he including himself in that statement? Warning me against counting on him?
Culley parked in a garage beneath a glass-sided high-rise office tower, and we took an elevator to the main lobby then another up to the floor that housed Audun’s offices. The ride to the top seemed to take forever. I was even more apprehensive than I had been before we’d reached the city. During our whole trip, Culley had led me to believe he was on my side. Was he going to throw me under the bus now when we stood before his father?
In any case, it was too late to back out. The elevator doors opened, and there was the name of the law firm in large tasteful letters on the opposite wall—Hade, Warwick, and Rune. I’d never met the other two partners but could only assume they were as “charming” as Audun. Turning left, we walked into a breathtaking reception area.
Spacious and bright, three sides of it housed floor to ceiling windows that looked out over Manhattan. The Empire State building was visible on one side, the Hudson River and two large bridges spanning it on the other. Low slung, expensive-looking couches and chairs were grouped here and there near the windows, and in the center of the room was a receptionist’s desk.
As Culley and I walked toward her, she looked up and smiled. At him of course. Wow. What a knockout she was. Curling dark hair cascaded down one shoulder over a white silk blouse tucked into a black pencil skirt. Olive-skinned and sophisticated, she was like the reverse image of the flawless blonde bombshell who served as receptionist in the firm’s L.A. office. She lifted the desk phone, spoke a few words, and set it down.
“Go right back,” she purred. The woman gave Culley one last admiring glance and picked the phone up again, answering an incoming call.
I followed Culley, who obviously knew the way to his father’s office, down a wide corridor made of distressed concrete. It had an industrial look with an upscale edge, complimented by modern art. Huge sheets of rusted metal that looked like they’d been blasted through by mortar fire or shrapnel were hung in intervals at odd angles.
The entrance to Audun’s office was at the end of the hall. There was no nameplate necessary. It was unmistakably the master’s quarters. The tall recessed doorway was surrounded by an ornately carved wooden frame of sorts. The double doors themselves were high and narrow, made of the darkest wood I’d ever seen. In place of knobs or handles were two interlocking halves of a large metallic plate or medallion.
Because Culley made no move to reach for them, I did, but before I could touch them the doors opened on their own, swinging apart smoothly and slowly toward us as if opened from the inside by a ghostly butler.
Culley and I darted one quick glance at each other before stepping inside.
Here we go, he said.
I nodded tightly. Ready or not.
In here, too, the walls were made of the same artfully pockmarked concrete. Directly in front of us was a giant abstract painting, lit by subtle picture lights. It was hard to tell what it was supposed to represent but it was dark and disturbing, calling to mind images of war but with wide slashes across the canvas that resembled a vast winding staircase.
To one side of it a small, architectural-looking settee faced an incredible wide fireplace built into the center of the wall. It was burning vigorously, lighting the room with a glow that was more eerie than comforting. There were no window walls providing generous city views in this room. It was dark and intimate, almost as if it existed on a different plane than that bright, busy lobby we’d just left.
Except for the crackle of the fire, the room was oddly silent as we approached Audun’s desk. He was seated there, in a high-backed wooden chair that resembled a throne more closely than office furniture.
The desk itself was so large it could have served as a dining table. It was old and elaborately carved. On top of it there was nothing but a statuette—a strange little creature, skinny and long-nosed with gnarled limbs frozen in mid-stride, as if he’d stepped right out of a Brothers Grimm dark fairy tale. Two ancient-looking gas lamps hung suspended from the high ceiling all the way down to just over Audun’s head on either side, casting shadows that emphasized his sharp cheekbones and deep-set eyes. Their pale blue was an icy glitter flashing from the shadows.
I was surprised at the interior of his office, so different from the one he kept in L.A. As “modern” as the Dark Elves claimed to be, Audun’s office here looked like it had been removed from a medieval castle and transported to New York City then reassembled, piece by piece. Maybe it had. He certainly had the money and power to accomplish such a feat, and he’d had plenty of time to do it. Audun was more than four hundred years old. In fact, he’d probably had these furnishings long before New York City even existed.
Though I’d known Audun my entire life and worked closely with him many times, it felt strange to be in his presence again. Things were different. I was different.
I’d never enjoyed the things he made me do, but now I could barely tolerate the idea of working for him anymore. Our deal—the one that would have released me from his service and provided lifetime support for my mother—was no doubt null and void since I’d failed to prevent Lad and Ryann’s marriage and turn the young Light and Dark Brother-Kings into enemies.
If only that factory hadn’t exploded and I’d been able to keep on driving away from that tiny town, away from this bizarre life of mine. Of course that had been Audun’s doing, too—it had to be. Who else would want to destroy the source of the saol-water-laced tea that had freed the humans?
Culley and I came to a stop in front of his desk, standing side by side. One of the burning logs let out a loud pop that caused me to jump. Seeing the evidence of my nerves, Audun cracked a knowing smile.
He lifted a hand and gestured. “Sit down then. And Relax. I’m not going to bite.”
Crap. He was already on to me. Why couldn’t I have been born with a glamour for acting instead of memory alteration? That would have come in handy right now. If Audun realized I was nervous, he’d want to know why. He’d ask questions I couldn’t answer truthfully and didn’t dare to lie about. I was so screwed.
“Forgive us, Father,” Culley said smoothly. “We’re still weary from our trip—we’re not quite ourselves I’m afraid.”
Audun gave him a perfunctory smile then turned to me and leaned forward over his desk, studying me. “You are afraid, aren’t you girl? Why, I wonder? Tell me what happened in Altum. Did you glamour the Light King as directed?”
Okay, so he was going to get right to it then.
“I did,” I answered honestly.
“I see. But the wedding took place anyway. And his brother, the young Dark King...” Here Audun rolled his eyes and snorted in disgust. “...performed the ceremony, so obviously they are still on good terms.”
“Yes.” My voice was small. Though he already knew the answer, I feared my response would anger him further.
“So then your mission was a complete failure.”
My fingers started trembling. I shoved them under my outer thighs to hide it. In my peripheral vision I noticed Culley’s head shift slightly as he took in the evidence of my nerves.
“I’m sorry. I did try,” I said in a meek voice.
“What happened?” Audun demanded. “What went wrong? I’ve never seen your gift fail before.”
And now we enter the danger zone ladies and gentlemen. What could I say? The truth would get me killed. A lie would probably have the same result. “I’m... not sure. I—”
“Apparently Lad was immune,” Culley interjected. “I personally witnessed Ava using her glamour on him on several occasions. It appeared to be working—he acted quite hostile toward his half-breed fiancée, but then he appeared to rebound. Perhaps their ‘love’ was too strong.” He smirked, showing his disdain for the whole idea of love. “My personal theory is that they’d already bonded before we even arrived.”
Audun sat back in his seat and nodded, tenting his long, thin fingers in
front of his chin as he considered it. “Well, I suppose we knew that was a possibility, though reports from inside the palace indicated they were maintaining separate rooms at night.” He was silent a minute longer, then sat forward with new energy, once again wearing a pleasant expression.
I let out a breath, my wild pulse slowing. Maybe I would make it through this after all.
“At least one of you succeeded in furthering our cause,” he continued, turning his pale gaze to his son. “I hear the fruits of your labors are already springing forth in Nashville and Philadelphia.”
Audun pushed back from his desk and strolled across to a different set of ceiling-height double doors. They were beautiful and strange, the wood embedded top to bottom with dark stones. “I expect to hear good things from Washington and Atlantic City soon, and of course, from this fertile planting ground.”
He pushed a button, and the doors slid apart to reveal the city skyline. Audun gestured to it grandly. “Come children, and survey your kingdom.”
We obediently left our chairs and joined him at the opening. Outside was a roof terrace that held an infinity pool. If I didn’t know better, I would have sworn the water ran right off the sides and down the high-rise building. Across the center of the pool was a smooth concrete walkway that led to a narrow ledge—like a plank on a pirate ship—only instead of water below there was a sea of yellow taxis on the far away city streets. There was no furniture outside, no landscaping. And no safety railing.
If I could have stayed inside the office and looked out at the sight, I would have called it beautiful—serene, even. But of course that’s not what Audun had in mind.
“Join me,” he said with a wicked smile and stepped out onto the walkway.
I stepped out after him with Culley behind me. It was windy on the roof, so high above the city. The magnificent view I’d admired from inside the lobby seemed too vivid here, too real. Tall buildings surrounded us, some higher than this one, some lower. Even way up here the rising sounds of the city reminded me of all the millions of human lives it held.
What had Audun been talking about? Obviously he was referring to the deliveries Culley had made during our journey. But what were these “fruits of his labors” he’d mentioned? Would Culley ever open up to me enough to tell me?
At the end of the walkway, Culley and I stopped, keeping a safe distance from the ledge of the building. Audun walked right up to the edge, stopped, and turned around to face us.
“Now—back to you my sweet Ava.” His eyes narrowed. “What did you think of the Light Court?”
Oh God. My pulse ratcheted up again. He wasn’t done with me yet—not by a long shot. No, Audun had simply decided to postpone his questioning until he got me outside, shivering on the precipice of a thirty-six story drop. What could I say that would keep me up here and alive instead of splattered down there—and was still true?
My voice quavered as I answered. “It was... interesting, very different. They are very different from us. They work differently, think differently.”
“Your mother told me you might have been having second thoughts—sympathetic thoughts.”
Ohshitohshitohshit. Thanks Mom. I drew in a shaky breath—possibly my last one. “Yes. That’s true. I did for a little while. At one point I even left Altum, planning to drive away and go out on my own. But then I reconsidered and I returned—to finish what I knew I had to do.” All true, though what I “had to do” wasn’t exactly what he’d sent me there to do.
Audun nodded, rubbing his lips together. One of his hands wrapped around my wrist, tugging me closer to the edge with him. “Something’s different about you my dear. I can’t quite put my finger on it. You’re giving me the right answers but... there’s something you’re not telling me. You do realize if I can’t trust you completely, you’re of no further use to me.”
I stared back at him, wide-eyed, unable to control my labored breathing. This was it. This was where my life would end. The New York police and the news stations would chalk it up to just another suicide jumper in the cold, cruel city. My immortal life would come to a quick and gruesome finish after only nineteen years.
“I... I...”
And then Culley gripped my other wrist and tugged me back toward him, close to his side. He stepped forward, placing his body partially between mine and his father’s.
“We’ve both kept something from you Father,” he said. “We weren’t sure how you’d react, and honestly, it took us both by surprise. It’s all so new. It happened so quickly.”
My attention was riveted to his face. What was he saying? What was he telling his father?
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple traveling the length of his throat. “You see, Ava and I... we bonded while we were away on our mission.”
Chapter Eleven
Bond-mates
Somehow I managed to keep my jaw from falling open, though my heart dropped to the hard surface under my feet. And then it bounced up again to run crazy laps around my chest cavity.
What are you doing? He’s going to know, I shouted at Culley mind to mind.
He ignored me and continued to lie to his father’s face. “It’s made her quite emotional. That’s why she had some temporary sympathetic thoughts toward the betrothed royal couple. I take full responsibility of course. As it turns out, there is an unexpectedly strong attraction between us, and well, after all the years of abstinence, I’m afraid my patience simply ran out. I can assure you we’re both completely loyal to you and ready to carry on our work—together.”
He did not look down at me, but stared straight into his father’s keen eyes. Blinking and fighting for breath, I turned my attention back to Audun as well. He would throw us both from the building now. Me for failing my mission and Culley for being dishonest.
But he didn’t move. He stared at Culley for a long moment, glanced to my face briefly and back to his son. And then he broke into a wide smile.
“That is very good news.” He laughed. “Most welcome indeed. But how foolish of you to be frightened of telling me, Ava. I know tradition holds that betrothed couples should wait until after the wedding ceremony, but it’s not a custom I’ve ever particularly respected. It’s ancient, and it’s not as if it’s any more likely to produce a happy lifelong bond.”
His last sentence sounded like a comment on his own strained marriage. But he seemed to accept Culley’s story.
“Let’s go inside, shall we? The wind is picking up out here—it’s not as pleasant as I’d hoped.”
Clinging to Culley’s hand now, I turned and gratefully followed the walkway back toward the office interior. The close, cave-like atmosphere, which had seemed foreboding before, was now a refuge. I tried hard not to sigh audibly when the big doors slid closed behind us.
Audun went back to his desk. “Well then, I’ll speak to Thora about expediting this wedding ceremony. There are many dignitaries who’ll want to be invited, so we can’t do too much of a rush-up job, but we will want to make sure and take care of it in a timely manner, on the off-chance you’re a rare good breeder, Ava. We can’t have any bastard heirs to the Dark Throne running around now, can we?” He laughed so genuinely it was almost a giggle.
I managed to produce what I hoped was a passable smile. I was still in shock he’d bought Culley’s story. And that Audun had just revealed openly his intention to take the Dark Throne from Nox. How else could he possibly consider Culley’s future child an heir to the throne?
“If there’s nothing further right now, we’d like to go back to my apartment. Ava will need to retrieve her things from her flat here and move them over. We have to set up housekeeping, don’t we love?” Culley’s eyes met mine, willing me to go along, and what choice did I have?
“Yes,” I said. “I should call Brenna first and make sure someone’s home. I lost my key in the accident along with my phone and wallet.”
The two of us walked rapidly toward the door. Audun’s voice stopped us before we reached it.
; “Wait please.”
We turned back around to face him. He was standing now. “Culley, you may go. I need Ava’s services for a few more minutes... or however long it takes. I suspect it’ll be an easy job for you, though, dear.”
Culley’s fingers tightened around mine. “Does it have to be right now, Father? Can’t you see she’s completely knackered from the trip?”
Audun snickered. “I’m no fool, son. I remember what it was like in those early days of bonding—and I know why you’re in such a rush to get her back to your apartment—her exhaustion has nothing to do with it. Your libidos will have to wait. Your new bond-mate is my most valuable asset, and there is a client here right now. That cannot wait because the child’s parents are in the lobby, pacing like caged animals.”
“It’s... a child?” I asked, stunned.
I’d worked with many “clients” at Audun’s command before—in L.A. and here in New York. I’d altered the memories of men and women, movie directors, agents, senators, police officers, and other public officials. I’d even messed with the minds of celebrities like Trey to make them more pliant for whatever Audun’s plot du jour was. But a child... never.
Audun crossed the floor to join us near the doors. He hit a button on the wall, and they opened silently. “Not exactly. She’s fourteen—a witness in some pending litigation against one of my celebrity clients. Come with me, my dear. You’ll be back with your lover in no time.” Stepping out of the office, he strode down the hall, clearly expecting me to follow at his heels.
I’ll wait for you, Culley said before we parted. His eyes were serious and filled with concern.