by Zoe Forward
“Did the curse kill the one of you when he went rogue?”
“My youngest brother died to keep your country safe. He wasn’t a traitor. He did every fucking thing your predecessor asked of him, and in exchange, he got possessed by a demon who drove him out of his mind, even after we exorcised it. And suicided himself to eliminate something horrifying.”
“That sounds like bullshit.”
Roman leaned forward and lowered his voice to a growl. “Never smear the memory of my brother. He gave his life so you could live your pampered, miserable existence.” He couldn’t hurt or touch the monarch, but nothing about the curse forced him to be nice.
For a split-second, the young ruler paused as if considering the words. He crossed his arms. “He failed his mission and died?”
“We never fail.”
“Where are the other two? The living ones?”
“You only called one of us to come in.”
“Gerard? Explain,” the king demanded.
“You only need this one.”
Roman hated being objectified like he was a thing without feelings to be used.
“Fine. Gerard has information on a woman I want you to take care of.”
“Does this girl threaten you or someone in your family?”
“Just do the job.” The king rose.
“Why not ask MI6 to take care of it? We don’t hunt humans.” He didn’t know for sure it was Nova, but…okay, his gut knew it was her. Did the king know Nova was a lycan? “We’re not assassins.”
“You’re supposed to follow orders. That’s how this works, right? Bound for all the days you walk the earth or something like that?”
“That’s not how it works. We fight non-human threats.” Roman rubbed his wrist as he met Gerard’s gaze, who for the first time looked a smidge apologetic.
He was done with this curse. Hated it and the monarchs.
He despised being ordered around by assholes like this at will. And he’d come to loathe chasing down supernatural threats. Was he good at it? Yes. That didn’t make him like it.
The issue he’d realized over time was not all tasks were delineated in clear right and wrong. Too many years. So much death. Too many brushes with unknown evils. It weighed heavily on all of them.
“Gerard can fill you in,” the king said.
“What did she do to you? Why is she a threat to you or your family?”
The king’s gaze dropped to the gas fire, the first sign of insecurity over his order since he’d entered.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
The ring on his right hand. It had the FenCor seal. Ballsy of him to wear it so openly. FenCor was an international consortium of business magnates and heads of state who accumulated power. They often masterminded international conflicts in ways that benefitted their business interests, be they oil or water or natural gas or land. Their members were brutal and greedy—the worst examples of humanity. Roman tried to steer clear of them, but looked like he couldn’t. He wasn’t sure how deep the king was in this. Maybe he was entry level and unaware of the depth of the organization’s corruption.
FenCor owned the monarch, and probably many more in the government. Did FenCor know about Roman and his brothers?
Roman said, “I was working on something more important, an actual threat to the country before you called me in. I can’t believe you recalled me to hunt down one lone woman. This is a waste of my time.”
Gerard said, “We suspect she might go after His Majesty next.”
“Why?”
The monarch’s eyes flickered toward Gerard and back to the fire.
Roman dropped his voice to mesmerizing. “Tell me what’s really going on. Is this about FenCor?”
“Of course not.” Liar. The king wouldn’t look at him.
Using voice persuasion hadn’t worked. He almost smacked his forehead over his stupidity. The curse made the monarch immune to lycan voice coercion. “Uh-huh. FenCor is a human business and not mine. If it doesn’t fuck with me, then I won’t fuck with it. But let me make myself clear in this. I don’t answer to them. If this is about that group, then I highly suggest you ask them to use one of their contractors to take care of your problem. They don’t want to mess with me or any of my brothers. I sure as hell hope they’re not going to try harnessing any of the extreme supernatural terrors we work to contain. Those are terrifying powers they can’t control. No one other than gods can control them.”
“There are no such thing as gods,” the king scoffed.
Roman laughed. “Tell that to the archangel that helped me fight a demon a few months ago.”
The king’s eye roll communicated he thought that total bullshit. “I’m ordering you to take care of her. She’s a threat to me.”
A direct order he couldn’t countermand. Please, let it not be Nova. If it was, he needed to convince these two she wasn’t a threat. Or was she? Patience. See what information they have.
Roman said, “You’re supposed to send me out to stop a voodoo priestess from calling forth Satan’s demons to enslave humanity, or to keep a mad scientist from making test-tube babies between vampires and goblins. Did I volunteer to do that kind of wacked shit? No. Your mother forced us into it. Based on the curse, which is the only thing keeping me here, I’m not obliged to kill a non-hostile non-human, or a human.”
The monarch shot to his feet. “She’s a threat. You will execute her.”
Roman rose. “I haven’t heard a single solid reason why she poses a risk to you.”
“She’s the kind of problem you’re here to take care of.” Gerard’s tone came out diplomatic and his eyes pleading Roman to behave himself.
“Find her and eliminate her.” The king stalked out with Gerard hot on his heels.
Chapter Eight
“What do you know about the target?”
Roman paced into Gerard’s office two levels up. His nose reeled at the stench of coffee mixed with a lemon-scented air freshener plug-in.
Gerard handed him a file.
One glance at the manila folder and his heart shredded his rib cage.
Roman flipped open the manila folder.
Nova’s black-and-white headshot sat there on the page.
Fuck, fuck, fuckity…fuck. He wouldn’t kill her. Couldn’t.
Fire burned up his arm from the curse band like a blowtorch on his skin. He froze to avoid any outward display of pain to Gerard.
He had no choice but to follow orders. The curse wouldn’t allow otherwise in the end. He’d tried to fight it before, which had been painful for days until he proved to the Crown that the target was innocent and had the order rescinded.
He had to prove she was innocent and not a threat to the king. Only in doing so did he have a chance to get them to rescind the order.
He promised to erase the mage’s kiss and hadn’t done so yet. That was a promise he would fulfill.
At least he didn’t have to hunt her down. He’d left her in his flat in London with strict instructions she remain indoors. Flynn had headed south via train to track Ky.
He and his brothers had figured out how to maneuver between the lines in the past, but this wasn’t a vague request. Kill the threat—the woman in the picture. Kill Nova.
He flipped through the documents in the folder. One hit after another linked to her or an alias thought to be her. Oddly, none of the victims were from this country. Each person she assassinated had been a part of FenCor.
He flipped between the two pages in the folder. She’d taken out eight higher-ups in the group. He agreed they didn’t deserve the power they’d probably stolen. He didn’t care that she’d done these things. This was human business, not his.
But to end Nova’s life over this?
Felt wrong. She didn’t threaten the world or humans in general. More so n
ow because she didn’t remember she’d done any of these things.
He didn’t want to. The tattoo around his wrist singed his flesh. To hide the pain, he clamped his mouth shut and bit the inside of his lip, drawing blood.
Wait a moment. Did they know who she was? Did they have the information he sought about her? The double-sided sheets of paper in the folder provided a picture and some basic identification items anyone could get from looking at her photo. Known contacts: none. Known location: unknown. Nothing about her being a lycan. There still might be a gray line to move between since they thought her human.
No name. But there was an alias: Kaitlyn Sutton.
That was bogus. Nova wasn’t a Kaitlyn.
Gerard didn’t show interest in the contents of the file. Whose idea was chasing down this target? Gerard’s or the king’s?
Gerard shrugged. “I think someone’s using her, or maybe she worked alone to target higher-ups in FenCor. Could’ve been a power move inside of the organization itself, to make way for someone rising in the ranks. Anyone messing with that group has an agenda.”
“How do you know she’s the one that did these hits?” FenCor’s involvement might explain why her picture hadn’t showed up on the government facial recognition programs. If this was an inside job, they’d want to keep their personal assassin secret. That is until she escaped them, and now they wanted the loose end eliminated.
“There’s more.” Gerard queued up a video on his laptop computer—possibly the video that Flynn found, which he should’ve watched. “Look.”
A grainy black-and-white video showed a woman of Nova’s build executing a man point-blank with a gun, one of the men in the file. Roman never saw her face on screen. In his gut, he knew it was her.
What if he said she had amnesia and didn’t remember? That she wasn’t whoever that was anymore? They’d been able to get the monarch to rescind an order to kill a non-human once before. Although a tough sell, the new king’s mother had let the being live. It wouldn’t work this time. The king and Gerard had their minds made up, which meant nothing Roman said would matter.
“Hard to be sure who’s in that video.” Roman flicked a hand dismissively at the screen. “Could be doctored.”
“Maybe.” Gerard compressed his lips and sighed. “It’s a trivial job, I know. One lone contract killer isn’t going to take down the world. But I say you find her. Do what the monarch asks and make him happy. He already put out a private contract on her, but after a week, it’s not panning out. Based on research, I think she’s lycan.”
“What kind of research? No female of our kind travels alone. Where are her guards? Who’s her family? Aside from that, no female would ever be given assassin training and sent on missions. That’s against Council rules.”
“She left DNA at the scene of one of the crimes.”
“That seems careless for a pro. And how would you know it was her DNA?” She had on gloves, and her hair was up in the video. This was getting weirder by the second. If she had been hired to assassinate high-up members of FenCor, regardless of agenda, anyone who could get close to those highly protected men would never leave DNA at the scene of the crime, which means she was framed. That didn’t mean she hadn’t killed them, but someone wanted her dead. Maybe to cover someone else’s tracks?
“I had our lab analyze DNA samples from one of the bodies. There was definitely a female lycan at the scene.”
What lab could know that? Had Gerard set up a secret facility to analyze non-human species?
“Where was she last seen?” He watched Gerard closely to determine if he knew he already had her.
“Her last hit was a month ago. Nothing since then anywhere. I figure you can network your people to find her.” No indication he suspected Roman already found her, or that she’d found him.
Deep sigh of relief.
“Take a phone so I can update you on any new information.” Gerard slid one across the desk.
He shook his head. He hated the thought of being monitored at all times and of someone knowing his exact location. “I’ll see what Flynn and I can come up with.”
“Check in, as usual. Every 48 hours. Oh, and try not to be careless. Blowing up your target in Berlin? Come on, Roman. That’s amateur hour.”
“I retrieved the vial. It’s in the vault downstairs. That’s what matters.”
“I cleaned up all evidence of you having been there. Looks like Flynn took care of internal video feeds, but externally, I had one and I saw…”
Roman’s heart rate escalated. If she was in the images, he could kill Gerard. Right here. Right now. Somehow, that was easier than thinking about Nova’s death. It’d be messy, but he could. He wasn’t sworn not to. Shit, he was in big trouble over this girl if he was considering killing the one person who might be on their side. But, really, were any humans fully on their side?
His breath caught when the curse stopped his lungs. Can’t breathe.
Fine, I won’t kill him. The pressure eased. He took shallow breaths.
Gerard hadn’t noticed while he pulled up a new video and pointed at the screen. “That Latin vampire was lurking about while you were inside the club. Why?”
The relief whirring through him soured his stomach. He hadn’t seen their interaction afterward? Good job, Flynn, with external cameras. “Not sure what business he had.”
“I don’t trust him. Figure out what he’s up to.”
“We’ve been trying to figure him out for a long time. He isn’t exactly open about his reasons for anything. For all we know, he owns FenCor.” He pivoted but paused at the door, remembering the missing item from the case in their sanctuary. “Was anything removed from the repository?”
“I cleaned it.” Gerard fiddled with the two ballpoint pens on his desk.
Look at me.
Gerard turned to his computer. He was evading. Had the king requested the disc? That seemed weird for a new monarch. If Ky was here, he would know whether this was simply Gerard assuming their discussion was over, or him actually evading. Although paranoid that everything was a conspiracy theory, Ky could read people’s intentions.
The disc was not on Roman’s priority to-do list for this week. But if it got free into the world, they’d be forced to hunt it down. Again. It’d been a pain in the ass the first time, but they trapped the person bespelled by it before. Protecting the relics wasn’t supposed to be his job. Yet, he felt responsible and didn’t want to let the problem rest. It hinted at larger security issues around the relics.
Table it. For now.
He needed to figure out what was going on, especially why these guys were desperate to see Nova dead.
Time to find out more about who Nova might be from the lycan who knew everyone.
…
At the Highhorn Pub, Roman slid a pint of beer across the worn table and sat. The pub was dark and hot. Rock music blared so loud from the tinny sound system that everyone spoke in booming tones, increasing the background din. His shoes stuck to the floor, and based on the stench, it was probably spilled beer.
The aristocratic lycan across the table caught the pint and drank. His blond hair, uncharacteristically shaggy, hung out the back of his ball cap. The full beard in combination with wrinkled clothes made him look homeless, not a billionaire land baron with houses in Kensington and Surrey, and a firm place at the table on the Lycan Council. Colin was one of few lycans he’d grown up with who knew he still existed.
Colin’s focus darted out the window. At eight o’clock, the moon was rising. Not yet a full globe, but her gibbous state teased an almost-there. Colin took a deep gulp of beer and visibly relaxed. The guy’s characteristic haze of mellowness descended. It obscured the sharp intelligence and acute observant being beneath. Roman wasn’t fooled.
“You feel the call of the full moon already even though she’s two days away?” Roman sippe
d the pint and was reminded why he wasn’t a big fan of beer. Give him hard liquor any day over this.
“Since I saw you last, it’s been worse.” Colin stared into the glass as if it held answers. “I hate asking my mother to lock me up like a juvie, but going it on my own doesn’t end well. Wish I didn’t have an anaphylactic reaction to the suppression serum.” Colin slouched and threw his legs wide. “Why’re you here, vecchia?” Old one.
“You calling me old, my friend, is cute. I need information. I also need what we talk about to remain between us.”
“Of course you need something. Doesn’t mean I’ll give it to you.” Colin was the species’ designated records keeper. He guarded eons of family history, locked away in a secret location. He didn’t often consult what was written, not with his photographic memory. “What do you want to know?”
“Is there a missing female? Maybe recent. Maybe not.” Roman tented his hands on the table.
“This is the Crown’s business?”
Roman traced his finger once around the rim of his cup. “I found one. She’s in a lot more trouble than she thinks.”
“Then ask her who she belong to.”
“She can’t remember. Amnesia. Total blank. What do you know?”
Colin stared at his hands. “A lot of us have disappeared in the past few years, all assumed dead.” He lowered his voice. “There’s something weird going on. I think someone is either hunting us more effectively than the A.W.L. or kidnapping us for something. A few family heads have contacted me, searching for their missing people. Happened three times this year. Two were females who’d been under serious lockdown when they went missing. For one to disappear suggests someone was able to infiltrate those households, likely a lycan.”
“There’s a betrayer in our midst?” Roman frowned. “Why haven’t I heard about this?”
“It’s not like any of them want it public knowledge.” He took a swig of beer. “Maybe you want to write me in on one of your adventures. You’d save me the stress of the quarterly European gathering in a few days where I have to doll up so one of the two or three available females there might find me to be a suitable mate.”