“You’re going to the talks tomorrow.”
“When will you learn not to eavesdrop?” Now his voice was aggravated, and there was bite to the emotion swirling around him. The temptation to take it, maybe even eat it, was strong, but the memory of being transfigured into a rabbit was still very compelling in her mind. Instead, she took another mint leaf and popped it in her mouth, wishing mightily for clover.
“Probably never.” She pulled out a small knife, her grip tightening on his hand. “But I want something from you.”
“Hmm, I thought I already gave it to you.” Xander’s mouth curved up into a satisfied male smile. Mina rolled her eyes. His obvious attempt to distract her from talking about the negotiations was thin indeed.
“You’ll give me that again,” she promised, and his irritation evaporated. She turned his hand palm up. “I want to have a blood-tie to you, so I can find you.”
With a jerk, he pulled his hand away. “No.” His voice was emphatic.
“Please?” Mina begged. She would’ve gone ahead and performed the tie, but she knew instinctively this would drive a wedge between them. “It works both ways. You can find me.”
“If I am hurt, so are you.”
“I already do get hurt when you are.” Mina dropped his hand and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I will take it off as soon as it is safe. But it will protect you from my father. No matter how angry he is with me, he won’t risk harming you if he knows it will harm me. The scars on my face from Elspeth will be the reminder.”
He wavered. She saw it in his eyes, a calculating look he got when thinking.
“It is only for the negotiations. I promise afterward I’ll take it off.” She stroked his cheek. “Please.” She wanted to remind him about the last set of talks they’d been at when she tried to save him then. “This will protect me as well. My uncle, the Chairman, will not risk harming me because it will harm you. I know he views you as one of his prized Mages. He’ll want the chance to get ahold of you again.” She wasn’t so sure about this one, but it sounded good. Something was changing in her uncle, who’d always been a difficult man. Recently, he’d begun to feel strange, more like the first hint of spoiled milk—still sweet but with a sour note.
With a quick move, Xander picked her up in his arms, making her gasp.
“You have an interesting argument,” he told her as he headed toward his room. “I will consider it, but let’s sleep on it.”
His words said one thing, but his intentions were far more evocative. A light fluttering of anticipation in her stomach made her smile. As Mina laid her head on his shoulder, sighing. How long had she waited for this exact moment, to be held and cherished? She’d imagined this for years. Now it was happening, she kept expecting to wake up, finding it was one of her vivid dreams. She suppressed the sliver of unease deep inside, the tiny pragmatic part of her telling her she was wrong about Xander. No. She’d convince him to have a blood-tie with her, because she wasn’t giving him up—ever.
Chapter Twenty-Six
LAURIE STARED AT THE STACK OF PAPERWORK in front of her and didn’t see the numbers or information about the new shipment of vodka scheduled to arrive in New York Harbor this week. After all Mikhail’s grousing about her not doing this, here she was. The cool smoothness of the paper was a reminder he wasn’t here. She’d tried to sell him on going paperless, but he’d told her he liked the feel of the weight of the paper under his fingers; it made him feel more connected to his business. Considering she had all of the elements, it was the one thing he had left.
The power under her skin moved, making her muscles ripple as if in reaction to an electric pulse. She tried to thread as little as she could out into the Boundary and atmosphere, tight coils of air, fire, and water, along with a touch of earth. She wanted to keep as much as she could close to her, in case she needed it. What this did was increase her ever present nausea, making her swallow once or twice. Every time she directed the elements, it drained her physically. Now she knew why, and one hand went over her stomach.
Pregnant. Her mind still couldn’t wrap around it, but her body knew even if her conscious fought it. What kind of parent would she be? Her only examples were her parents, and they’d disowned her. Would she do the same? The speaker on the desk crackled, and everyone in the room froze.
“Has he activated them?” Gregori was the newest head of security. He’d managed to look busy at the far end of the room, but at the first sound, he discarded the pretense and walked over. He wore his expensive suit casually, the shirt open in front. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Nicki eyeing him as she and Rachel sat on the couch, flipping through magazines. When Gregori headed toward the desk, they dropped their reading material to focus on her. They couldn’t do anything, but knowing they were there was a great comfort to Laurie.
“Let me check.” With practiced ease, Laurie punched a code into the computer at her desk. The flat screen lit up, a map and glowing red dot showing the location of the negotiations in downtown Atlanta. Another, smaller flat monitor was placed next to it. The screen lit up with squiggly lines to show sound waves. The lines spiked when a brush of cloth and rumble of voice was heard. Mikhail. He was directing staff and ordering vodka.
Hearing his voice made something inside her ease.
“It’s working,” she said to the somber-faced Gregori, who nodded. It had taken a while to get used to him. He wasn’t as personable as Kian, but he was astute. It was his idea to fit Mikhail with spelled auditory bugs, one on the lapel of his suit, the others around the conference room. This way if things went south, she could pinpoint where to target her power.
“There is video.” Gregori touched the monitor, making it glow. A small ping and another window popped up showing a bird’s eye view of the conference room.
She’d never get used to magic and technology.
Thomas Voda sat next to Xander. Mina, who insisted on coming with him, sat further down the table, filling glass bowls with cheese puffs. How she convinced Mikhail to serve them, she’d never know. He sat at the head of the table, facing the door, waiting.
“I like this. Maybe I should have him wear one of these all the time.” Laurie smiled, pleased. This brought Nicki and Rachel over to stand next to her.
“I’ve got to see how this plays out,” Nicki murmured. Then she gasped as the room on the screen darkened, everything going dim and blurry for a moment.
Cazacul had arrived.
Cazacul didn’t knock. He made an entrance.
Xander’s skin puckered with goose bumps as energy rolled over them all, dimming the afternoon sunlight streaming into the conference room. They were on the top floor of the Edwardian Hotel, located on Peachtree next to the business district of downtown Atlanta. This display of power was impressive. Darks’ abilities were the strongest at night, but not with this man.
“He’s really angry,” Mina whispered into his ear.
He fought the urge to snap No shit! as the color leeched out of the room and the broad form of Cazacul stepped through.
Dressed in his usual black tailored suit, his glittering obsidian eyes swept the room and rested on Xander. “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.”
“Fortunate for me, you didn’t,” Xander replied, acknowledging the Dark leader with a nod.
Angry was an understatement; Stefan Cazacul was enraged. It vibrated off him like the shadows he commanded. The sensation of it wrapping around him gave Xander the urge to brush cool energy off his skin. He resisted the desire with gritted teeth. His instincts screamed at him to bury a knife in the Dark where he stood. Mina’s nonchalant presence next to him, the only deterrent; this was still her father, and he’d respect that. For now. Cazacul must’ve sensed this, because he turned his heavy gaze toward his daughter for a long moment. Mina gave him a small five-fingered wave.
“Fiica Mea, my daughter.” His voice lost the violent promise, but it still held a dangerous edge. “Your brother paid your price.”
>
Stillness made Xander turn his head. Mina sat cross-legged in the chair next to him, her hands flat on the table. Today, she’d opted to return to her spiked hair and skinny jeans, which showed off her long legs. Movement was as much a part of her as the necessity of breathing. If she wasn’t spinning the chair around, sketching on paper, she’d tap on the table. Even that damn origami bird flapped its wings as it perched in her hair—but it was all motionless.
“He knew…” she whispered.
“And you knew what would happen.”
“I’m…”
Cazacul held up a hand stopping her. “Enough. Some things I don’t want to hear.” He nodded toward Mikhail. “It is good of you to host.”
And like that, her father dismissed her. Temper surged within Xander. He didn’t like this casual dismissal, and it bothered him that he cared. He was a Mage; he shouldn’t have any attachment, but he did.
“Cazacul.” The Elemental nodded.
Without moving his head, Xander reached over and squeezed Mina’s still hand. Her large midnight eyes flicked to him, and her generous lips curled up at the corners, reminding him of the night before. He turned his head and withdrew his hand before committing the cardinal sin of returning the smile. Why the hell did he want to comfort her? Because seeing the look of sorrow on her face made him question his resolve not to attack her father. Her choice and the price paid for freeing him from the dungeon unsettled him, reminding him he wasn’t the only one to have forfeited in this game.
“You walk a fine line, Petrov, by giving protection to my enemies.” Pulling out a chair, he sat heavily across from Xander.
“You were the one who wouldn’t stand with me against the Mages, and now you cast stones. You come to this table with a fight in mind. If this is the case, these talks aren’t necessary,” Mikhail responded in a cool voice as he leaned back in his chair. He didn’t act like a man who was concerned about this; his posture and offhand response suggested he wouldn’t mind a brawl. Xander tensed, tasting the metallic rise of magic in the back of his throat.
“You’ve no power to back yourself,” Cazacul ground out, his voice deepening, “You’ve been emasculated.”
“Since my elements have never been tied to my gender, I will disagree with you.” Mikhail sat forward, his tone light, with the sharp twist of sarcasm. “If cheap shots are all you have for me, I suggest you save them for the negotiations. We’ll reevaluate our contract later.”
These weren’t going to be talks, but a blood bath. Xander glanced at Thomas Voda next to him, his face pale, eyes bloodshot, with a tremor in his hands. Damn it. Drained, the man was useless.
“That’s good, because our covenant is null. I am executing your cousin Alexei in two days,” Cazacul said, not even pretending civility.
“This is your prerogative.” Mikhail waved a dismissive hand, but his eyes gave him away. They began to glow, rotating through color. “If his crime—”
“He killed Elspeth.” Mina’s voice came out low.
At first Xander didn’t think anyone heard, but with the sudden silence, those three words had fallen like rocks, garnering no physical damage, but reverberating through the psyche.
“You gave me a rotten apple, Petrov,” Cazacul said, biting out each word as if he resented having to voice them. “And you’re leaving me to throw it away.”
“Then kill him.” Mikhail slammed his fist on the table, making it shake. Mina jerked, and Voda moved back. “It is my failure, and I will accept the responsibility, but we are done.”
Laurie gasped. The voices were sharp and clear, as if they sat in the room. Alexei was Mikhail’s last living relative.
“He can’t mean that…” She didn’t mean to say it aloud, but she did.
“He does.” Gregori, who didn’t understand the concept of rhetorical or self-talk, answered seriously. “It’s Cazacul’s right.”
It also wasn’t Alexei’s first bad decision. The young man hadn’t improved as Mikhail hoped; he’d gotten worse. The image of the girl Elena, pale blond hair and delicate features, who lay in a coma, contractures beginning to draw up her muscles even with magical intervention to prevent this, slowly slipping toward her inevitable death. His first victim.
“But it’s costing him.” She knew this, because Mikhail’s grief and pain hit her low in the solar plexus. She put a hand over her mouth to stop herself from crying, a physical reaction to what he couldn’t show. Rachel put a hand on her shoulder as they all continued to watch. She’d been confident this would play out in an orderly fashion.
Now she realized, she’d be lucky if he came back alive.
Thunder boomed outside the window. The bright gold rays in the room dimmed to gray as clouds covered the sun. It darkened the wooden table and cast more shadows. Laurie’s aware of the situation, Xander thought as he watched the two men with interest. Soon they’d go at it, and the whole point of the talks would be useless.
“Can we save the drama until after we’ve come to an agreement?” Xander said in his bored-as-hell voice. “As entertaining as it is to see you both volley insults, I have other things to get to.” Like wresting back control of his law firm and unfreezing his accounts. He figured running these talks was a good start, considering Thomas Voda was too damn hung over to do more than sit there. He reminded himself it was because the man had been drained by Petrov; it made it easier to be civil.
“By all means.” The Dark leader nodded toward Mikhail. “We can finish our business later.”
“And we will,” promised Petrov, his eyes glowing brighter with color.
Worse than school boys posturing in gym class. Except, in his class it wasn’t always fists flying, but half-assed spells. It wasn’t unusual to have instructors undoing transfigurations gone awry or unraveling someone’s attempt at dying people’s skin and hair to obnoxious colors. The thought made him wonder if turning Petrov magenta and Cazacul cerulean wouldn’t bring them down a notch. Tempting as the idea was, he’d have to take the high road here.
Trying not to snort in disgust at the two, Xander leaned forward, pressing a button on a projector. The words of a spell ran through his mind, fueling the magic he called up. Four spots of light lit up the wall. The three-dimensional images revealed the myopic Victoria Olson, the newest and most ambitious Board member Jeanine Bellman, the excitable William Ericksson, and the sniveling Charles Strand.
“The Board will be witnesses to what we agree upon,” Xander informed Cazacul and Mikhail. Part of him wanted them to be reminded they were still under the auspices of the Mage race. Another part just wanted to piss them off.
“Fine, they can witness this—the release of us under your rule.”
Cazacul leaned back in his chair, not even nodding toward the four Mage projections. Their varying expressions of outrage and disgust were clear to Xander and the rest facing the Dark leader. Thomas didn’t react, but Mina grinned. Too bad he hadn’t allowed them speaking privileges. If he had, they’d be here until the dawning of the next civilization. Decisions by committees sometimes took dangerously long, and none of them had the time to spare. There are times when mute buttons were a boon.
“That is ridiculous,” Thomas burst out, speaking for the first time since sitting down. Xander wished he’d placed a silencing spell on him. A simple enough spell used mainly for yapping dogs, he’d let the Board member bark a bit and see if he really did have something to say.
“So says one of the men responsible for driving us to this point,” Cazacul remarked. He held out a hand, and one of the Darks lining the walls stepped forward with a thin folder. “Here are my demands. All the businesses we run, we own. You get five percent of the profits.”
“We made you who you are,” Thomas responded, his voice calm. “This is an insult.”
Xander’s former contempt eased a bit. If Thomas could pull himself through the hangover and handle this, then perhaps there was hope for him.
Mina began to hum next to him. He glared at her, urgin
g her silently to be quiet. She raised one eyebrow at his look and ignored him. Minx.
“None of us asked for your intervention or for you to create us.” Cazacul’s voice filled the room. “Nor did we ask for your guidance. This unbalanced rule is not functional for any of us. It is insulting. Your insistence of maintaining an archaic system of control is a great disgrace. Your race is dying. I’m not here for your survival, but our own. Our children have been taken without our consent, and this will stop. Many of us can’t see the light of day, but we don’t deserve any less opportunity.”
“And who is to protect the weaker humans from you?” Xander countered before Thomas could speak. “There are reasons you’re locked in the dark.”
“There are reasons we have our blood laws,” Cazacul growled. “We don’t tolerate hunting the innocent. But, your kind has no problem sacrificing Darks or Elementals.” He turned to Mikhail. “How many of your strongest young Tri-elementals are collared and killed to feed the energy needs of the Mage? How many of your family were sacrificed to them?”
“This is no longer a problem,” Mikhail responded flatly. “Now I am bonded, I am no longer allowing any of our young to end up in the hands of the Mages.”
Oh hell. Now Petrov threw down the gauntlet before them. The Mages were getting their collared Tri-elementals from areas outside the Boundary Mikhail and Laurie created. Xander hoped to address this after this war with the Darks was ended. He should remember, the Russian never played by the rules.
“We’ve kept the balance for over a thousand years.” Thomas looked at the folder handed to him by Cazacul, examining the pages and then handing them to Xander. “I see no reason to change this. The more we argue things that can’t be changed, the greater risk we all are in.”
“The greater risk is allowing your despotic rule to continue.” Cazacul wasn’t budging. “These are my terms.”
Illumination Page 29