He looked her up and down. Not sexual this time, but more assessing. Cold. She didn’t like it at all. “What will happen to the kids?”
“Not your concern.”
Anger turned to fury, rapidly racing to white-hot rage. She was dimly aware that the rage might need some kind of control. “How can you say that? You’re mixed, Jack. You can’t leave these kids to such a fate.”
“I can and will. And you will too. We have a job to do. Bigger picture, Raine. They’re someone else’s problem right now.” He looked at her with a mix of confusion and pity. “What do you think happens once you take vows? Do you think as a knight you get a say in carrying out missions? Do you think you can stop in the middle of things, derail and pursue an unsanctioned objective?”
His words were soft, but the voice hard. He used all the right Covenant jargon. And he made way too much sense.
Her emotions took a cliff dive into oblivion. He was right. Raine hated him for it, too. Once a knight, there was no going off the grid. The mission reigned supreme. For her, there would be no other option. Jack, never a knight, was the antithesis of that, always running wild, unpredictable. All she loathed. Yet here she was, ready to do the same. Saving the children was the right thing to do, just the wrong time. All so damn confusing. She ran a hand through her hair and took a shaky breath. “Who has the kids in their radar?”
“Does it really matter?”
“To me it does.”
The very edge of his poet’s mouth curved faintly in approval, then he was back to Jack, a mask of sensuality and disdain firmly in place. “There’s a liberation movement. My spies tell me they have an excellent plan of attack. That’s why we need to be there tonight. It’s our only shot. Chaos is the perfect cover for theft.”
Some of the rage abated. Sense seeped through the haze. He was right. They had a bigger picture to keep in mind. Mission focus had never been an issue. But when had a mission ever touched her so close? Those poor kids. Mad Jack. What a mess. How was she supposed to get through tonight, let alone the rest of the op?
She returned to the bed and sat down hard. “You said I have a cover. Run the specs by me.” Give me something to take my mind off being crazy.
“You’re my new bodyguard. Everyone knows I have more enemies than heaven has fallen angels. I hired you away from the Covenant. Convinced you things were better on the outside. You were willing to leave because you’d hit the glass ceiling anyway.”
She rubbed her temples, not because they hurt, but because she thought perhaps the action might help return things to normal inside her skull. “Sounds reasonable. Why do you need a bodyguard? Ever had one before?”
“From time to time.”
Her brain latched onto the facts, kicking into processing mode. It was where she was comfortable, the world of analysis, crunching numbers, facts, and innuendo: putting together pictures from pieces of this and that. “So what trouble made you seek me out, wrench me from my cushy spot? Sure, there was a glass ceiling, but I was fairly well-compensated. And, while I’m martially trained, I’m nothing compared to specialists in the field.”
“You’re cute.” He winked. “Better than cute. Sexy. Yes. Definitely sexy. Even with the clipped ears.”
She clenched her fists and suppressed the urge to jump for him. “Be serious.”
He sighed. “I am. You said it yourself, I have a weakness for the ladies. The trouble I’m in requires more than a bodyguard, it requires someone skilled in handling occult analysis. Let’s just say I’ve gotten myself into the bad graces of an arcane cabal.”
“Really?”
“Happens all the time when you’re me. No big deal. Anyone digs, they’ll find several viable contracts out there for me.” He had the audacity to be amused.
“So I have to watch out for someone taking pot shots at you too?”
“Havers has it covered. She’s the arcane cabal I tweaked.”
“Convenient.”
“I try.”
She struggled for the mental sea legs, and finally established something resembling equilibrium. The plan was workable. “The test?”
“Ever heard of Club Orpheus?”
Shit. Her gut tightened. Double shit. They might as well be touring the devil’s own mansion. Uninvited. The club was so far out on the edge, it was a dark land unto itself. Sex, sin, deprivation of any kind was standard fare at Orpheus. “That’s a dangerous place.”
“The whole kinked-out sex, blood and rock and roll gig is a cover for a very high-end, very discreet, black market auction house. They sell everything from archaic magical items to human souls. But I have a dangerous bodyguard, so I’m not afraid.”
“I told you, I’m no expert…”
“I saw the soul blade tattoo. Seth went off the grid, as usual. It wasn’t planned. You’ll need to say you got it from me, if anyone asks. Don’t try to hide it. In fact, show it off. That way you’ll dispel suspicion that you’re a Covenant stooge.”
The blade tattoo tingled with her attention drawn to it. “I’m not a Covenant stooge.”
“You’re going to spook a lot of folks tonight. You’ll be put to the test. I’m giving you some pointers to help you pass.”
She stared down at her arm. “Seth wanted to give me an edge,” she said lamely.
“Did he tell you the price?”
Price, always the price. She shrugged, uncomfortable, and resisted the urge to scratch her forearm.
“You’ve been fully awakened. You have mystical potency. It’s one kind of esoteric energy. I’ll tap that lightly to help shore up my own deficiencies and use it to help find the artifacts.” He stalked back towards her and took her hand. He held it, palm open, and pushed up the sleeve of her sweater as he talked. “You also have sorcery in you. Another kind of esoteric energy, and that’s what I plan to use more extensively. Usually you focus on one or the other. Because I’m born of deity, and am—excuse me, was a sorcerer, I can mix all varieties without trouble. Most can’t do that safely.”
He traced the exposed tattoo with his finger. His touch was cool and practiced. She’d never faced a God, but knew they were often cold when in human form. Something about the energy and matter and such. Jack was cooler than average, but warmed easily from her contact. The more he warmed, the hotter she got. Definitely a harbinger of trouble.
He continued touching. Talking. “Magic makes a soul blade, but when you use it, you tap a different form of the current. If you’re also in the Order, you’ve received all kinds of wild enchantments. Everything from immortality to healing ability. All that juice on thin, un-insulated, untrained wires runs a risk of burning the house to a crisp. Too much juice going through the same circuit melts the wires and fries the system. It’s the reason the knights don’t take magic sensitives. You’re running a risk, even with me to help direct the energy.”
She pulled away. “I don’t think he’d have given me this if I couldn’t handle it.”
“Gods. Men. Everyone has an agenda in this game. Keep that in mind.” He walked back to the armoire. “I can’t fault Seth for wanting to give you an edge. I have the same intent. It’s in everyone’s best interest to keep you alive long enough for me to find the artifacts.”
With that curious observation, he opened the doors, revealing a strange costume. Seeing it made her pulse beat faster, for what reason, she couldn’t fathom.
He caressed the sleeve of the garment, sending a ripple across the strange, ephemeral fabric. “If you’re going to step out with me, I need to you dress the part.”
Raine stood slowly, wanting both to go closer, and turn away. After a moment, she couldn’t resist and walked over for a better look. On one hanger rested a loosely woven hoodie, made of an impossibly thin silver-black silky thread. Next to it hung a black leather, front-opening, corset-styled top with spaghetti straps, and a matching pair of slender pants with a low-slung waist line.
“You have to be kidding me.” The crazy outfit held a spooky kind of allure. She
touched the strange hoodie fabric, and it tingled in her hand. Shocked, she drew back. “I’m not wearing this.”
“Yes, you are.”
Jack reached behind his back, pulled out a very large custom pistol, and fired point-blank at the garment. Raine watched as the hoodie tightened, rippled beneath the impact, then shed the compacted shells like discarded coins.
When he was finished emptying the clip, he cinched his other wrist, and a dagger slid forth from beneath the sleeve of his shirt. The silver blade gleamed with the bluish light of sorcery. He slashed with vicious precision and inhuman strength at the fabric, sending off a shower of rainbow sparks, but causing no real perceivable damage.
“Enough!” she cried. “How did you get your hands on enchanted armor?”
He stopped his assault, and tossed a casual smile her way. “Never let it be said I don’t know how to be fashionable, as well as deadly.”
Raine reached out stroked the fabric, lingering in the caress. “What is it made from?”
“I have no clue what the hoodie is made of, only that it turns itself into really lightweight, tight knit, enchanted chain mail when under duress. I suspect there’s a whole lot of freaky stuff and big bad mojo tied into the weave.” He put the gun back in place. “The armorer gave me basic repair instructions on the undergarments. They’re made from khiel. Enchanted as well. Hope you don’t have an issue with wearing clothes made from the homeland.”
Khiel, often mistaken for leather, was made from a rare, deadly plant native to a remote portion of the Fey realms, and cost beyond a king’s fortune. It also took magical charms exceedingly well. Wealthy Alts had it fashioned into garments that could double as armor when enchanted. So did many of the Covenant Champions and even a few Gods. The staggering value of what Jack so casually displayed in his armoire was unbelievable. “Did you steal it?”
“Even for me, that would be an impressive feat.” He moved close against her. “Consider it extra insurance. Seth gave you the soul blade. Stands to reason he probably laid on some of the knight’s powers as well. Maybe even that funny brand of conditional immortality the Covenant likes to peddle. But that may not be good enough against what we could face.”
“Immortality?” A chill stole over her. Sure, the knights were immortal as were many of the higher level servants of the Covenant. But she wasn’t a knight, she was—what was she exactly, other than crazy? A mercenary? A manipulator? A dark part of herself laughed deep within. What does it matter what you are? it said with a sinister twist. You’re getting what you want and that’s all that matters. Take it Raine, take it all for once. “If I have it, I don’t need your enchantments.”
“Ever been in combat, fighting and healing from near-fatal and fatal wounds all at once?”
“You know I haven’t.” She would, though, once she entered the Order.
“I’m not quite immortal, but being half-God does have some advantages, particularly with healing. It takes a hell of a lot of focus, concentration, and energy to achieve a fluid state where you can take the blows and keep on trucking. It also takes practice. A lot of practice.” He looked her over, slow, sensual, so there was no mistaking what was on his mind. Her. Her body. The obvious enjoyment it seemed to provide him. It was yet one more of his subtle and not-so-subtle invitations. “Take the gift, Raine. Even the knights, juiced up on power as they are, wear some kind of armor.”
Gods, he smelled good. Good enough to touch. Taste. Devour. Hells bells, where were these thoughts coming from? She looked past him, his raw beauty, and stared at the fantastic garments. “You want me in them, tell me where they came from.”
“I love a woman who’s clear about what she wants. Let’s just say someone owed me a favor, and I had this made as part of the payback.”
“Part of the payback?” What in the name of the Gods was this guy mixed up with? The Covenant should have kept better track of him. Better yet, never let him out unsupervised.
“There’s a whole lot more left on someone’s tab,” he continued with amusement. He glided past her like a cool, mountain breeze. “Get dressed. We have places to go, people to see, and bad deeds to do.”
“Wait.”
He stopped, his hand on the door. There was just the faintest curve to his lips, a match to the simmer of heat in his eyes. “Reconsidering my earlier invitation to play?”
She was. About every three seconds. But he didn’t need to know that. “Who’ll test me?”
“Gia Malinov. Her brother Leon is a Prime Vamp. He owns the club, she’s his right hand. And a terror in bed. Or so I’ve heard. She’s an energy master, and a sucker for a good, hot vibe.”
“Thanks for the information.” Talk about a bucket of water to the fires of libido. She didn’t know whether to slap him or thank him. “Any more tips?”
“Use that part of you that hates the Covenant. All that anger will be hard for her to resist. It will draw her away from secrets you want to keep hidden.”
“I don’t hate the Covenant.”
“On some level, you do. Use the truth. Nothing works better when lying. I can’t help you. She’ll pick up any interference on my part.”
“What if I don’t get in?”
“I need you to get in. And you will. I have faith in you, Raine Spencer.”
I need you. I have faith.
However shitty the circumstance, it was nice to hear something like that for once. Instead of having to fight over scraps, and prove worth. Recognizing her skills and trusting in her ability shot straight to her heart, moving way faster than any of his-sex drenched looks or practiced touches. “Should be a walk in the park.” Not. But she’d suck it up anyway.
“Havers is bringing the car around. I’ll see you in five.”
The door closed behind him with a strange finality. Like a cell door slamming shut, or the door to the rabbit hole sealing itself up. And here she was, a modern day Alice, stuck in some insane acid-trip version of Wonderland with the maddest of Mad Hatters.
Raine touched the beads again, finding comfort in the strange, flawless stone. In the mirror of the armoire, they appeared the same charcoal grey as the Manhattan sky. Hematite was a very simple, common stone. What did Jack say earlier? The most powerful effects from simple magic? Yes, that was it. Of course, he was in the thick of it with heavy power too. The armor was evidence of that.
A man with that kind of debt owed him, and those kinds of connections could conceivably be powerful enough to tear up the Covenant with conspiracy. A man used to that kind of power could easily convince himself he needed more. And, a man who knew when auctions of rare half-breeds took place and could secure invites on a moment’s notice, was a man who’d do whatever he wanted no matter the cost to those involved. Her uncle’s position gained credibility with each passing moment.
Raine slid the magical mail from the decorative padded hanger. It felt like a cloud in her hand. The five-ring mesh appeared as thin as a spider’s web and she almost believed it might be woven from that, and other impossible things like thin air and fantasy. It didn’t seem real. Kind of like Jack himself.
Men like him, they weren’t real. Nor were they lasting. Then again, she wasn’t looking for anything lasting except her knighthood. And once she took her vows, there’d be little to none of the casual encounters with men she’d come to enjoy. Once she took those vows, there’d also be little in the way of running the show. Deciding the mission specs. The parameters. Objectives. All those decisions passed into someone else’s hand. Orders would come, she would follow, just as Jack had indicated.
She considered the children, pawns in a larger game. Powerless. Alone. Liberation movement or not, she’d see what she could do once inside the club. As long as they got what Jack needed, Raine figured she could talk him into deviating from the mission specs without too much difficulty. Once she was in the Order, such insubordination would never fly. The sanctioned objective, the mission focus, that was all. Everything else fell away. But she hadn’t taken vows
yet. She still had wiggle room.
She glanced out at the Manhattan night with its grey sky and distant stars. It was a day of firsts for her. First for the awakening. First for being so close to what she wanted. First for desiring what she thought she’d despise. First for wondering if what she wanted more than anything for as long as she could remember was really worth wanting after all.
The fabric rippled with a life of its own, as if to remind her of the night still ahead. Raine set it aside along with her wayward thoughts and began to undress.
“Club Orpheus,” she said to herself, as she slipped out of her conservative twin set and tossed it into a heap in a shadowed corner of the room. “I hate vampires.”
* * *
“When do we get down to business, Jack?”
Raine had to lean close to him to be heard over the pounding techno-vamp music pulsing through Orpheus tonight. The place was packed to the infernal rafters. The VIP lounge was no exception. Across the crimson carpet floor, a Were couple openly fucked like mad on a black mirrored cocktail table, while next to them, a vamp fed casually on one of his iron-bound slaves. The rounded art-deco booths were shadowed in dusky lighting and full of Alt race and human patrons with dark intent and a decided absence of boundaries, inhibitions and taboos.
He breathed in a deep lungful of the cinnamon incense and sex-scented air. Orpheus was always a rush. With Raine next to him, cooking him like hellfire, he was hard pressed to keep himself from throwing her onto his lap and driving into her until she screamed his name at the top of her lungs. She was a more subtle note in the air, a clean, womanly fragrance, a mix of innocence and lemongrass, completely at odds with the rampant arcane decadence surrounding them. But her lithe body, so alive with magic, held such carnal promise.
“Jack? Can you hear me?”
“Loud and clear.” Jack eased closer to his new “bodyguard” and tossed his arm casually across her shoulders. The touch sent shivers of magic currents through him. He’d have to swap the necklace soon, the beads would be at capacity. “We need to wait for the Queen vamp to give the nod.”
ImmortalIllusions: The Eternity Covenant Book2 Page 8