by Lizzy Ford
Wynn was on the hook for the morning shift with the petitioners. She planned to talk to him ten minutes before his shift started, in case she needed a reason to escape.
She knocked and pushed the tall door open. Trayern and Mithra followed her in.
Wynn sat in front of his desk rather than behind it, a slender book in his hands. He set it aside when she entered.
“The soiree went well,” he said.
Stephanie ignored the statement. He’d disappeared early and left her with the Immortals, probably as another test.
“I need to talk to you about something serious,” she said.
“Come in. Sit.” He motioned to the chair beside his.
Stephanie went, disturbed by the thought that she trusted Trayern-the-demon more than her own father. She sat and studied Wynn, who never showed a single emotion or indication of what his next move could be.
“I, um, met all ten of the clan heads. I was playing this game that Trayern and Mithra assigned me where I was supposed to find the answers to the questions they gave me,” she started. “But I found out something bad.”
Wynn listened patiently. She hesitated once more. Wynn couldn’t be trusted, but she had no choice, even if she feared how he’d react.
As if hearing her concern, he smiled.
I hate it when he does that, she thought. She’d begun to suspect he could read more than fears. He seemed to read secrets as well, if not all her thoughts.
“Four of them want me and the rest of us dead. They’re planning a coup, though I haven’t pieced together the details,” she said.
His lack of reaction confirmed her hunch he already knew. “I’ll take care of them,” Wynn said.
“What does that mean?”
“Does it matter?”
She wasn’t sure it should have, but it did. If she was going to take over, she needed to know. “I don’t want you to hurt anyone.”
“I’ll talk to them.”
Somehow, that sounded worse.
“I’m proud of you for discovering the truth,” he continued. “Your guardians and I thought this would be a good exercise.”
“You were in on it. Of course,” she said. “Did you supply the questions?”
“Some of them. They did the rest.”
“Everything is a test here, isn’t it?”
“I prefer the term lesson.”
“Is the threat to our lives real then? Or did you set this all up?” she asked with a frown.
“Unfortunately, it’s real.”
“I’m the nicest Immortal ever, especially in this family!” she exclaimed. “Why would they target me first?”
“You tell me,” he said with another smile.
Stephanie dwelled on what she’d been learning from Trayern and Mithra. “I’m either a threat or a weakness,” she said. “I’m no threat. So, I must be a weakness.”
“Correct,” Wynn replied. “You’re perceived to be my weakness. One of them anyway.”
She snorted. “You don’t have any weaknesses.”
“You’re my daughter and Fate is your mate. You have both working against you,” he added. “You’ll be viewed as a potential weakness to both.”
“People would hurt or use me to get to either or both of you.” It made sense and reminded her of something Fate had warned her about. “Wouldn’t killing me just piss you and Fate off?”
“Without a doubt. But it’d also be a means to provoke a public reaction that might unite more of the clans against our family. If they’re smart, they’ll take you out first.”
She leaned back in her chair. “How did you let our society come to this?”
Wynn was quiet.
“Really. I want an answer,” she said, face hot with anger. “How did you turn an entire society of people against our family, to the point we may not be able to fix this before the worst happens?”
“We can fix it,” he replied. “We have no choice. For the human world to survive, for us to remain the buffer between Hell and Earth, we must be united.”
“That won’t happen now!”
“We can discuss this when you’re calmer.”
Stephanie blew out a breath. She waited until her head no longer felt like it would explode before speaking again. “You want me to take over, don’t you?”
“I do.”
She’d expected reluctance or resistance, but Wynn was as blunt as she was.
“You’re the only one I’d trust with the Council. Your brothers have done their best to strain relations between the Council and our people.”
“And you think I can do this,” she stated.
“You’re the only one who can right now.”
“Even though I’m a half-breed?”
Wynn smiled. “Especially since you’re a half-breed. I am hoping your broader perspective, and familial connections to the deities will help provide balance during a transition.”
“You mean leverage, not balance.”
“That, too.”
“You have to know I’m nothing like you,” Stephanie said. “I never will be.”
“I don’t expect you to be. What our society needs is a change. You offer that possibility while preserving the power in our family.”
“I’d change a lot around here.”
“Your prerogative, when you’re in charge.”
She waited for more, but he was quiet.
“You’re distracted today,” she observed and forbade herself from thinking of why. She could imagine he was as vexed by the discovery of his mate as Karma had been.
“When you’re in charge, you’ll understand why.”
Stephanie studied him. He was lying, more so than usual.
“You can’t read me, Stephanie,” Wynn said. “I’m on my game enough to block you.”
But not to hear my fear or secrets, Stephanie thought, surprised to realize he hadn’t yet plucked the knowledge she knew about Karma out of her mind. He was more distracted than she initially assessed.
Then again, she was as well. Stephanie’s mind darted between the idea of a coup and the demon raid Wynn had used as a lesson. She was beginning to connect his idea of strategy and manipulation to both circumstances. To prevent similar events, she needed to understand how both circumstances came to be.
At the moment, she didn’t think Wynn was going to tell her how he’d managed to suppress and terrorize their people.
She rose. “Have fun with the petitioners.”
“Tell Rhyn to stop scaring the guards.”
“I hate that!” she snapped at him. “How the hell do you know I’m going to see him first?”
“You need to learn a new perspective. Where else would you start?” was the amused response. “You’re too smart to risk asking Kris.”
Despite Andre’s insistence it wasn’t the right time to ask yet, Stephanie plowed on. “I need to see my mate.” She braced herself for another of Wynn’s silences or lectures about how there was nothing he could do or would do if he could. “I know you can’t do anything but … I don’t know. Maybe there’s someone’s arm you can twist?”
Wynn studied her for a long moment. “I understand,” he said.
Surprised, she waited for him to collect his thoughts.
“There is nothing I can do. But if I should discover anything, I will do it.”
Stephanie stared at him. “You’ll help us?” she asked.
“I’ll help you,” he replied.
She’d fallen for his claim before that he wanted a daughter and cared for his family. Was it possible he was telling the truth?
Normal daughters didn’t have to guess about when their fathers were truthful.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“Is there anything else?”
Stephanie shook her head and rose. “I’m doing admin shit this morning. I might need Kiki’s help again.”
“You know where to find him.”
Stephanie left.
Fifteen minutes later, she reac
hed the cells of her four brothers and stared at the door to Rhyn’s cell, ticked off Wynn had predicted her first stop this morning.
The jailer opened the cell door, and she walked in.
In his human form, her muscular brother was seated against the far wall, a stack of letters at his side.
“No whiskey?” Rhyn asked.
“I’ll bring it down later,” she said. “I need to talk to you about the demon raid nine months ago.”
“We won,” he said.
“I need more information than that,” she replied. “Can you tell me the thought process or … steps you went through to decide how to handle it? And how you figured out they were after a soul in South America?”
Trayern sighed in boredom.
Stephanie ignored him.
“It helps if you’re a demon and can think like one,” Rhyn started.
“That’s not an option.”
He began to walk through what he did that night nine months ago, describing the incursion, Immortal forces available, the tipoff from Death about the newly dead soul, background on Darkyn’s motivations and previous attempts to grab similar souls, and so on.
Stephanie listened closely. Her initial impression, that she’d have to make decisions in a vacuum, fell away as she realized how much of a team effort the mission had been. It would be more than Rhyn advising her. She hadn’t thought about contacting other entities – Immortal or deity – for help or checking out the situation for herself, which was an option as well, in addition to the feeds from various intelligence resources. The Immortals possessed an intelligence network that consisted of both electronic and human sources and information obtained through favors.
The final piece left her frustrated. The Immortals and deities had dealt with each other enough to manipulate one another. She didn’t have the base of knowledge Rhyn did on anyone, aside from the dossiers she’d started to build on the clan leaders. She wasn’t even certain how many deities there were and what their powers were.
When Rhyn finished, Stephanie was quiet, mulling over the onslaught of new information.
“About my whiskery,” Rhyn prodded her.
She smiled. “I’ll bring it down later. Promise.”
He grunted a response.
“Thanks,” she said and stood. “Will you be my military advisor?”
“Yeah.”
She started to the door.
“Why?” Rhyn called after her.
“I’m taking over the Council.”
“With or without Wynn’s permission?”
“With.”
“Boring. I was hoping for some action.”
“Sorry.” Stephanie left. She paused in the hallway, eyes drifting towards Kris’ door.
Curious about his take on the coup and battle she studied, she nonetheless heeded the warning her instincts gave her. He’d know something was up, if she asked. She didn’t need Kris working against her yet. She’d need time to acclimate to her position before adding to her growing pile of challenges.
“The less of a threat someone thinks you are, the better your chances,” Trayern said.
“Can you read minds now, too?” she returned.
“Common sense,” he snapped. “I faced Kris before on the battlefield. He will eat you alive.”
Stephanie frowned and turned away. She walked down the hallway. “How would you deal with someone like Kris, if you had to live with him? Don’t say you’d kill him. Pretend it’s not an option.”
Trayern was quiet, trailing her. “You either find something he fears or something he wants, and you negotiate.”
“You would negotiate?” she asked, surprised.
“No. I can dominate someone and fuck him up to the point he won’t fuck with me again. You don’t have it in you to rip out someone’s neck. You’ll have to negotiate.”
She’d never have to ask his opinion of her, not with the derision and scorn in his voice. Choosing to overlook it, she continued down the hall, anxious to be out of the catacombs. Wynn and Rhyn both seemed to believe she could benefit from those around her. She wasn’t going to let her feelings for demons prevent her from talking to Darkyn’s lieutenant.
“Second question,” she said. “How would you have handled the incursion, if you were in Rhyn’s place?”
“Shall I assume you want me to protect the human morsels?” Trayern asked.
“Yes. Humor me. Oh, and assume you didn’t have Gabe’s assassins to help. I want to make this harder.”
“I’d have sent the bulk of your forces to South America and a smaller contingency to Europe. Instead of chasing and killing demons, I’d draw them to where I wanted them to go.”
“How?”
“Choose who they kill and how many.”
Stephanie shivered. “We’d still lose human lives.”
“Forty by my calculation.”
Kris’ methods would result in hundreds lost, Rhyn’s in ninety four, and Trayern’s in forty. On the surface, Trayern’s method worked best.
But how did she choose forty people to die? How would she explain it to them, if she had to? The decision would have to be made within seconds. She’d never have the opportunity to ask people to volunteer.
No matter what, lives would have been lost. She had the duty of determining how many – or of preventing the situation in the first place, which would take years of mastering the skill of manipulation, if not decades or centuries.
“Okay,” she said as she walked up the stairs leading from the catacombs to the main floor. “Would Mithra say differently?”
“Angels don’t give a shit about anyone but the person they’re assigned to. They don’t care about strategy.”
She smiled at the acid in his voice, always pleased to provoke a reaction from him. She glanced over her shoulder and then back. On occasion, Trayern regarded her with the same hunger he did the servants he was forbidden from eating. If not forced to protect her, he’d have eaten her long ago.
“I’m figuring somethings out. There were several reasons you were sent here. To protect me, to learn about me for your dossiers, to build leverage points. I’m also a hostage of sorts,” she said, pleased with herself and a little freaked out. “You protect me until Darkyn tells you otherwise. If Wynn or Fate fucks up, you fuck me up. You are here to keep them in line as well.”
“I would tear your throat out in –”
“I get the point!”
Trayern gnashed his teeth at a passing Immortal guard, who flinched.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” she pressed.
“It only took you how long to figure out?”
She was imagining Olivia again and how much pain her friend had to have been in. Stephanie didn’t want to experience anything like that or for anyone else to suffer either. Protecting everyone was starting to appear impossible, if no one she spoke to could find a way to save all the humans threatened in one of many demon incursions.
“Funny how you didn’t tell your boss about the lake,” she muttered under her breath.
“You couldn’t manipulate a demon to save your life.”
“I hope one day we face off on the battlefield.”
“I can wait several millennia 'til you’re ready.”
Demons were bigger dicks than Immortals. Stephanie wouldn’t have believed it possible, if not stuck with Trayern. How did Deidre handle the monsters?
“Did you confirm to Darkyn I’ll be the head of the Council soon?” she asked somewhat apprehensively.
“I will in my next report.”
It sank into her that she was going to have to do more than manage the Immortal response to demon incursions. She would be expected to deal with deities who tried to mess with humans or Immortals. Wynn could handle the demon lord. Stephanie didn’t feel remotely ready to try.
She settled into contemplative silence, overwhelmed the more she learned about what it’d take to lead the Immortals.
She was beginning to believe Trayern would be an asset, as
long as he was with her. If she could cope with his brash responses and occasional threats, she could learn much about demons and manipulation from him.
Thirteen
Alone in his study, shortly after Stephanie left, Wynn picked up the diary Karma had attempted to steal. He traced his fingers down the spine. It was the smallest of all the tomes.
Whatever Wynn’s expectations had been of a night with Karma, he was blown away by the reality. Passionate to the point of feral, uninhibited, and with raw hunger that rivaled his, Karma was a force to be reckoned with in bed as well as out. He led – he always did – and she had submitted without hesitation, too consumed by their joint passion to want anything other than his hands to brand her and his tongue to torment her.
He’d almost lost control with her. The only reason he didn’t: he sensed what she hadn’t been willing to admit, that he was the first man to kiss her, touch her, fuck her.
Wynn’s body flooded with heat just thinking of the possibilities of a second night with her. The single night with Karma had been far more satisfying and exhilarating than all his other nights of hot sex combined. He began to understand how other Immortals and deities alike became smitten upon meeting their mates and why they moved mountains to ensure they stayed together.
Confident she’d left without the damning volume, which couldn’t leave the study without his permission, Wynn wasn’t entirely surprised when he woke in the morning to find her gone. Disappointed, yes, because he would have loved to fuck her in the morning sunlight, but not surprised. There was a good chance she was as alarmed as he was about the bond. He’d hoped to dampen the hunger and intensity of their bond after a night with her or better yet, to use sex to control her.
Instead, he needed more. She was on his skin as well as in his mind, and he didn’t think he’d be able to control himself, once their clothing was off.
His instincts warned him a second night would make everything worse, no matter how much he wanted to claim his mate.
If he wasn’t careful, he’d lose sight of his ultimate goal. Already, he was falling too fast for the mate he didn’t need.
Uneasy with the conflict within him, Wynn rose and left the study for the petitioners’ hall.