Witches Can't Fly

by Nova Archer

  Lyra risked a peek at Theron’s face. He was looking directly at the mistress, unflinching. He was obviously a lot more powerful than she first thought, or that he led on. Only the most powerful vampires could withstand looking directly at Mistress Jannali. Even Caine had a somewhat difficult time.

  The mistress bristled slightly at his bold statement, then it passed and she was her usual, icy, fearsome self. Lifting her chin, she said, “Yes, these murders have become quite bothersome. The media is having a field day over it, but I have the utmost confidence that this lab will solve the case once you are on the right path.”

  With a flick of her hand, she gestured to Nadja Devanshi and her lawyer, still standing in the lobby watching the debacle unfolding. Lyra could sense a rise in Caine’s power. It was obvious he wasn’t happy with the innuendo the mistress was making.

  “It is within our legal right to have questioned Ms. Devanshi concerning the murder of Lori James. She knew the victim and had the means.”

  Mistress Jannali waved her hand again. “Nonsense. Nadja is an upstanding citizen of Necropolis, and one of my most loyal contributors. I’ve known her for a long time. That alone should be enough to dismiss the line in which you seem so stubborn to pursue.”

  “I’m within my right—.”

  She put her hand up to stop the next words. “There’s nothing else needed to be said, Caine. It’s done. And I better not hear that Nadja has been further inconvenienced or harassed.” Arching a brow and smiling, she regarded them and continued, having thoroughly dismissed Caine’s argument. “Now, I hope to see you all at my centennial celebration.” She moved closer to Theron and said, “And you Monsieur LeNoir, we will have our time together soon. I’ll send a car for you. You’re staying at the Saint Mark, are you not?”

  A knot of jealousy twisted in Lyra’s stomach as she watched Lady Ankara gobble up Theron with her eyes. It was blatant and the mistress knew it, reveled in it even.

  “Yes,” he answered.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow then for tea.”

  He inclined his head. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  After a regal nod of her chin, the mistress turned and floated back down the hall to where Nadja and her lawyer still waited. Once she moved to them, they all left the station house together.

  Without a word, Caine continued to walk down the hall toward the conference room, his arm still around Eve. Jace and Tala followed. Theron moved to go next, but Lyra stopped him with a steely gaze and a hand on her hip.

  “You’re not going to have tea with that woman, are you?”

  “I don’t really have a choice, Lyra. She is the mistress of the city and I’m a visitor. Etiquette dictates that at some point I do have to pay my respects to her.”

  “Vampire politics suck.”

  Grinning, he stroked a hand over her hair. “I know. But this is something I have to deal with because of the LeNoir name.”

  She warmed inside from the subtle contact he made with her.

  “You should change your name,” she mumbled.

  “If only it were that easy.”

  Swinging his arm around her, he steered her down the hall. They walked together to the conference room. Everyone else was sitting by the time the two of them strolled in. More than one set of eyebrows lifted when they arrived.

  Avoiding the penetrating gazes, Lyra slid into a chair. Theron took the one next to her.

  “You’re pretty chummy with the mistress,” Jace grunted at Theron.

  “I have the distinct feeling that no one gets chummy with that woman.”

  Jace’s lips twitched. He tried to hide it, but Lyra saw it before he could turn his head. It was obvious Theron was starting to grow on him. The thought pleased Lyra. Like having a brother approve of your boyfriend.

  Boyfriend? Lyra shook her head trying to dislodge any notion of that occurring, and forced her attention back to Caine.

  “Obviously, the interview with Nadja didn’t go as planned,” Caine started. “And now the mistress has thoroughly ended our pursuit of that line of investigation.”

  “She was lying, Chief,” Jace grunted. “However much I think Kellen is a lunatic, I believe him about what he saw.”

  Caine nodded. “I know. I do, too. But her lawyer was right; Kellen wouldn’t make a very good witness. We need hard evidence against her if we want to continue that path.”

  “What about the car?” Tala asked. “That’s hard evidence.”

  “Yes, but there are fifteen other names on that list as well. That alone is stopping a judge from granting us a warrant to search her vehicle. That and the mistress.”

  Eve lifted the vehicle list. “You know, the mistress’ aide, Jerome Spindler, is on this list.”

  “Yes, that one has intrigued me the most,” Caine said.

  “You think she’s involved with these murders?” Lyra asked.

  Everyone at the table glanced at one another, sharing their fears and speculations. The answer was written on every face. Yes.

  Lyra had her suspicious as well. When her gran had spoken, she had the distinct impression that Lady Ankara had heard it too. When she glanced up, she had looked directly at where Eleanore had been hovering and smirked. Only those connected to the spirits, or those with one foot in and one foot out between the living and the dead, could actually see the lingerers.

  “If the mistress is involved then we are all in a lot of trouble,” Jace said, stating the obvious. Mistress Jannali was the most powerful vampire in Necropolis, most likely in the world. If she was at the heart of this evil plan to open a gateway to hell, then they were royally screwed and might as well gather the marshmallow roasting sticks and prepare for a rise in temperature.

  Fire and brimstone were the least of their worries. If a portal was opened it would be the things that came through—demons in all their gruesome glory—that would be troublesome. More murder and mayhem would be at the top of their lists of things to do on a holiday in Necropolis.

  “If we decide to follow though on this theory, we need to keep everything hush-hush. Everything. No one outside this room except for Mahina can know what we are planning or thinking.”

  Jace, Tala and Eve glanced at Theron. Lyra had the distinct urge to tell them to keep their comments to themselves. She could read what they were thinking on their faces. That he wasn’t one of them.

  Theron cleared his throat. “I realize that I am not part of this team and you have not known me long, but I have a way in that none of you seem to possess.”

  Caine arched his brow but the corners of his mouth lifted. Obviously he knew what Theron was insinuating.

  “You’re right. The mistress doesn’t know you but she obviously thinks highly of your family name. That could go far, and to top it off, you’ve been invited to her home.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking.” Theron smiled.

  Lyra bolted forward in her seat. “You want Theron to spy on the mistress for us?”

  “Yes,” Caine said simply.

  Except for Theron, everyone objected at once.

  “Are you crazy?” Jace asked.

  Eve set her hand on Caine’s arm. “Are you sure that’s the best option considering what’s been happening?”

  “Theron is neither a detective nor a crime scene investigator. He’s an untrained civilian and you can’t send him into a viper nest with an agenda, Caine.” Lyra clenched her hands. She couldn’t believe they were even entertaining the thought. “The mistress has more power than all of us put together. She’ll figure it out. And even if she isn’t guilty of these crimes, she still has enough power to fire us all and make our lives miserable.”

  “That’s all true, Lyra, but I think it’s a risk we should take. I’m done following the rules. I want to end these murders and find whoever is responsible. I am willing to use whatever means are at my disposal. This is something no one will expect for us to do.”

  Lyra glanced at Theron. He had yet to speak, but he didn’t need to. She c
ould see his answer all over his face. He was determined to do this, no matter what the cost.

  “You don’t have to do this, Theron. It’s not your responsibility.”

  He locked eyes with her, and she saw that dark presence there again in the molten lead depths. “I know, but if I have an opportunity to make a difference in this case, I’ll take it.”

  Caine nodded. “Thank you, Theron.”

  “Buddy, it’s your funeral,” Jace added, shaking his head. “She’s about the only vampire who scares the crap out of me.”

  Tala punched him in the arm. “I thought you weren’t scared of anything, tough guy.”

  Jace grinned and tried to steal a kiss from his wife. “Just you, my love.”

  She swatted him away.

  “The job comes with risks, which you should know about,” Caine said. “Ankara is very powerful and very persuasive but most of her power lies in her touch. Try not to let her touch you. If she does, you will be more susceptible to her vampiric charms.”

  “I am half vampire. I am not without my defenses.”

  “Granted, but even I have fallen sway to her once or twice in the past.”

  Theron nodded. “I will keep that in mind.”

  “When it’s over I’ll make sure you are well compensated.”

  “I’m not doing it for money. I have enough to last me a lifetime or two.” He reached across the table and grasped Lyra’s hand.

  Tears nearly came to her eyes at the intensity of his gaze. It was penetrating and she could feel it piercing the very heart of her. He was doing it for her. Maybe he felt more for her than she thought. Maybe there could be a future for them.

  Her heart clenched at the thought, knowing it might not survive finding out the truth.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The mistress’ car arrived for Theron at half past two the next day, as promised.

  He didn’t know what he was expecting when he stepped from the hotel lobby outside to the waiting driver, but a Mercedes S class, the very car on the OCU’s vehicle list.

  The driver held the door for him while Theron slid into the back seat. Glancing around, he tried to take everything in—the condition of the seats, any stains on the floor carpet, any odd or out of place odors. On first inspection, everything appeared neat and tidy. What was he expecting to find? A note that said I killed Lori James.

  As the car pulled away from his hotel, Theron considered the thought maybe he committed himself to something he just wasn’t cut out for. Lyra had been right; he was no detective or investigator. How could his inexperienced eye possibly find any evidence they needed for the case?

  Maybe he wasn’t up for this challenge. He had volunteered strictly out of his growing feelings for Lyra. He suffered a perpetual need to prove himself to her. Maybe to himself as a way to make amends for past transgressions. But he speculated that, at some point, that need just might get him killed in the process.

  Twenty minutes later, the Mercedes stopped in front of a large iron gate. The driver used a remote and the gate slowly swung open, allowing them entrance. The driveway to the house was even longer than on his estate. He noticed other high-end vehicles lining the drive when they pulled in front of a sprawling two story mansion. Theron tried not to be impressed or intimidated. He had grown up wealthy and been surrounded by glitz and glamour his whole life. But just now he realized Lady Ankara Jannali was wealthier than the LeNoirs, and far more powerful.

  From this point, he’d been operating on the assumption that he had everything under control. He was a powerful man, with an arsenal of spells at his disposal, if needed. The absolute power radiating from the house forced him to grimace. He could sense negative energy skimming the surface of his skin, seemingly trying to wriggle its way in through his pores. Goose bumps rose on his arms and legs. This was an energy he’d never felt before and certainly had never dealt with. Just who was Lady Ankara Jannali?

  When the driver opened the back door for him and escorted him to the front of the Jannalis’ manor, Theron knew he had been fooling himself into thinking he had come prepared. It had all been an illusion. A witch’s greatest trick.

  The front door opened and a uniformed man allowed him in. “Right this way, Mr. LeNoir. The mistress has been expecting you.”

  Theron followed the butler through a grand foyer and to the left of a double-sided winding staircase to the second floor. He was led into a small and elegantly decorated room adorned with priceless art. A small table in the center had already been set with cups and a teapot. Paintings—original Monets— hung on the walls and spectacularly crafted stone and bronze statues were displayed in various ways—on the floor and in glass display cases. It was obvious the mistress shared his love of collecting. Meeting him in this room for their visit had been a wise strategy on her part.

  He didn’t wait long before Lady Ankara swept into the room, dressed in a floor length gown of crimson. The color set off her dark skin and amber eyes magnificently. Theron had to suppress the urge to drink his fill of her. He couldn’t deny that she was enthralling to look at, a lithe creature of extreme beauty and elegance. He could plainly see why she had become mistress of the city. The commanding glint in her eyes as she surveyed him, scrutinizing him from head to toe, spoke to her dominance and dominion over every situation.

  “I am pleased you accepted my invitation, Theron.” Once she spoke, she sat regally in one of the provided chairs.

  Bowing his head, Theron waited until she was seated before he did. “It was an invitation I couldn’t resist.”

  She picked up the chafe and poured tea into his cup then into her own. When she was done, he waited until she picked up her cup and took a sip. It was considered impolite to drink before the hostess, especially when she was more powerful.

  “How is your father?” she asked after drinking and setting the cup down.

  “Very well, thank you.” Theron sipped from his cup. The lavender taste surprised him. It was an interesting choice for an afternoon tea. Had it been deliberate? Lavender was infamous for masking other tastes, especially ingredients used to invoke spells and herbal poisons like valerian root.

  He set the cup down and dabbed at his mouth with his napkin, using it as a mask to actually spit the mouthful of tea into it. With his hand he covered it, and set it back into his lap. Hopefully, she didn’t notice.

  “It has been some years since I’ve seen Lucien.” She smiled. “But my memories of him are quite fond.”

  “He will be overjoyed to hear that, Lady Ankara. I will be certain to tell him when I return to Nouveau-Monde.”

  “Are you planning to return soon?”

  “When my work is done.”

  “Yes, I heard you were working with Caine and his team on these ghastly murders.” She regarded him with a slight tilt of her head. “It’s very noble of you.”

  Theron had the distinct feeling she was being sardonic in her retort. As if she knew he was nothing of the sort. Did she know about his past? He wondered how much of his father’s business she was privy to. Had they been intimate to have shared such secrets?

  “I’m doing what I can. If my knowledge of various things can help put a killer down, then I would certainly share that information.”

  “Hmm, interesting.” She took another sip of her tea then gestured to Theron’s cup. “You don’t like the tea?”

  Theron smiled. “I’m afraid my stomach isn’t agreeing with the flavor. So you will excuse me if I don’t drink any more.”

  “Of course.” She returned his smile. But Theron didn’t feel any warmth from it. “Do you like my collection?” She gestured to the various articles arrayed around the room.

  “Yes, it’s magnificent.” He stood and inspected a particularly interesting bronze sculpture of a horned beast. “This looks Old Kingdom Egyptian.”

  She stood and joined him at the display case. “It is. You have a good eye.”

  “I have quite a few pieces from later eras, but nothing that ear
ly in history. I didn’t even realize anything of this caliber had been unearthed. Where did you acquire it?”

  “We all have our secrets.” She stood close, her power pushing and pulling on him. She smiled again and this time shivers rushed down his spine. He suppressed the urge to recoil from her. She ran her finger over the glass. “This is mine. What’s yours?”

  Oh lord, he wanted to recoil. Her presence was bearing down on him like a hundred-pound weight. He didn’t know how much longer he could withstand it without having to drop to his knees to release the pressure on his body.

  “If I tell you, it wouldn’t be a secret, now would it?” He retorted, trying to play her game and keep her from seeing how much agony he was in.

  By the glint in her eyes, she knew perfectly well how much he was suffering. She was a woman who didn’t do anything without intent.

  “It’s okay, Theron. I already know your secret.”

  He felt like the room had closed in on him. His lungs couldn’t fill with air. He was being crushed from the inside out. Was she doing it? Or was it his own anxiety putting the clamp of fear on his body?

  He reached out and set his hand on the display case to keep from falling over. Sweat had beaded on his brow and lip. He felt a trickle down his temple. She was grinning at him now, fully aware she had him by the balls.

  “I know why you’re here, Theron.” Her voice came to him as a whisper. He wanted to swipe at the prickly sensation her words made over his ear. But he was immobile—as if frozen in spot. Completely vulnerable to her.

  “I came to pay my respects,” he managed to say through the pressure in his head

  “You came to make sure I’ll keep your secret. That I won’t tell your friends in the OCU, especially the witch, about your naughty habits.” She leaned into him, her mouth only inches from his. “Habits involving black magic,” she purred.

  “No,” he spat, trying to shake his head.

  Garbled whispers buzzed in his ears. He looked around the room searching for the source.