by Kimbra Swain
“Yes, but she doesn’t know it,” Jeremiah said.
My stomach twisted to know that he was manipulating her to this level. What would stop him from doing that to me? To Grace? I’d kill him before I allowed him to hurt her, but the fact of the matter was, he could erase memories. At the very least, block them. I probably wouldn’t know whether or not to kill him. More often than not, I wished harm on Jeremiah Freyman. I still hadn’t decided if he was friend or foe.
We watched as Stephanie hung on the arm of Sergio Krykos. Jeremiah pointed out the major players. Ambrose Rossi and Tennyson Schuyler chatted to one side. Several other legal aides were in the room. A tall woman with red hair and freckles stood amongst the group. She seemed out of place.
“Who is the ginger?” I asked.
“Rowan Flanagan. I didn’t expect to see her here,” he said. “She’s summer. Royal like Stephanie.”
“Powerful?” I asked.
“In her own way,” he said as Rowan wrapped her arm around Schuyler’s. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. He leered at her with approval.
“Guess that answers that question,” I said.
“Yes, that’s trouble,” he replied. “The fairy mob boss has hooked up with a Seelie Royal family and in a law firm with Krykos who has ties to Old World Wild Fairy vampires who has his own Seelie Royal.”
“What is Krykos?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. He’s blocked to me. The block is specifically for me,” he said. “They know I watch.”
“Like right now?” I panicked.
“No. In general,” he said.
We sat watching the scene play out in the firm. Women walked around serving drinks like it was a party until past midnight when Stephanie, Krykos, Rossi, and Schuyler left the main party. They moved into a back room.
“Where is Rowan going?” Krykos asked.
“She’s got business to take care of for me,” Schuyler responded.
“Very well. Let’s get started,” Krykos said.
“We are here to discuss the failure in Greece to kill Gloriana,” Rossi said. “We haven’t gathered the five since it happened. Mr. Schuyler’s operations took him out of the country for several months. Let's talk about what went wrong.”
Stephanie looked antsy but moved closer to Krykos. He took her hand, kissed it, then laid it across his crotch. Jeremiah’s eyes met mine. I shook my head. I didn’t care.
“We were able to grab her by the information Stephanie obtained from Dylan Riggs. The bugs in his car, home, office, and police cruiser are functioning perfectly,” Krykos explained. “However, Riggs is particularly interested in keeping Gloriana safe. Either she has enchanted him or he actually is in love with her. Either way, he managed to have the right people in place with him when Jeremiah Freyman and a group from Shady Grove pulled her out of the den. Every vrykolakas was murdered by Dylan Riggs. It was nothing short of an impressive rescue. One that I couldn’t have anticipated.”
“That’s the problem. Jeremiah stays ahead of us at every move. I have to think he has one of us in his pocket,” Schuyler said, looking at Stephanie.
“I can assure you that Miss Davis lives and breathes by my commands and no one else’s,” Krykos replied.
“I guess her acting is better than your spells, Jerry,” I said. “We need to find those bugs.”
“Now that we know they are there, it won’t be a problem,” Jeremiah said. I stood up and started to pace the room. Stephanie had played a great game on us, and everything I had said in those places had been listened to by one of their goons. I felt violated.
“Dylan, sit down. Now we know. We can fix it. We can use it,” he said.
“Our biggest problem is dealing with the Phoenix and the Sanhedrin,” Rossi said.
“Allow me,” Schuyler responded.
The glass of one of the front windows shattered, and a searing pain ripped through my chest. I sank to my knees, blood poured from my chest. I looked at the puddle of it on the floor as I leaned forward into it. My cheek hit the floor with a thud. Jeremiah came into my vision, but the world around me was silent. It had been almost 70 years since I last died, but I knew it was coming. Jeremiah rolled me over on my back. He knew there was no reason to try and save me. He sat back looking at me as I expired. The bastard knew I would get shot. I heard the men in the spy circle talking as my life faded into nothingness.
“Kill confirmed,” a female voice said escaping the phone that Schuyler held up for the room.
“Good work, my love. Please join us,” Schuyler said to the phone. He looked to everyone in the room. “You ask. You receive.”
Dylan
Thankfully, I don’t feel the body to ashes bit. However, I felt the burning and fusing of my body as it returned to life. That in-between space was interesting. I was nowhere.
Dark. Cold. Alone.
My thoughts and mind, my conscious, continued to exist. It felt like floating in emptiness. Until the heat builds up in me, and my body erupts from nothingness. I had no control over the return. Over the years, the death and rebirth of my body sparked many rumors and legends.
This time, Jeremiah made sure that it was in private. When I re-emerged in the room with the circle, Jeremiah stood patiently waiting for my body to reform. Fiery wings spread out to fill the room as hot embers fell from my body. Concentrating on my human form, I forced the wings and fire to disappear.
“He fucking shot me!” I growled.
“It’s for show,” Jeremiah said.
I lifted an eyebrow. “You could have told me,” I said, snatching my clothes from his hands. He had gathered them up once I turned to dust. Quick thinking on his part.
“You would have willingly gotten shot for our charade?” he asked lifting an eyebrow. A bushy one.
“Probably not,” I grumbled. “You have no idea what that feels like. You don’t understand the dread in that place where there is nothing. Where I wonder if I’m coming back or not!”
“Calm down, Serafino,” he said.
“Don’t call me that!” I shouted.
“Dylan, I’m sorry. I should have told you that Tennyson has a deal with the Sanhedrin. We would have extinguished him a long time ago had he not agreed. However, he is who we go to for the darkest tasks. They fit him well,” he said.
“Are we done here?” I asked.
“Yes, the meeting broke up. It seemed to be just a scolding party for Krykos for his failed attempt to take Gloriana,” he said. “They will keep trying.”
“Why didn’t Schuyler discuss that with you?” I asked.
“He didn’t know about it. Krykos made the move on his own. He’s bold. Schuyler is trying to find out who he is, but he hasn’t made any progress,” Jeremiah said. “There is something else you should know if you are going to be a bigger part of all of this.”
I scratched my head. “What is it?”
“Rossi really isn’t Schuyler’s lawyer. Remington Blake is. Schuyler only lets Rossi dabble in his affairs to be able to be part of the group,” Jeremiah said.
“Remington Blake. Grace’s Remington Blake?” I asked.
“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Jeremiah replied. “But, yes, the same person.”
“I suppose he’s on your payroll as well,” I said.
“He is. He’s a good man, but he messed up with Grace. A lot like you have,” Jeremiah laughed. “She won’t give him the time of day now.”
“He cheated on his wife with Grace,” I said, knowing the story.
“Yes and no. His wife left years ago, and Remy had the papers ready for her to sign, but he couldn’t find her. She showed back up right about the time Grace did. It wasn’t a coincidence. I’m not sure who was behind her return, but I do know they did it to upset Grace. To make her move,” Jeremiah said.
“His wife is a fairy, too?” I asked.
“No, witch,” he said. “Bad one.”
“Lovely,” I responded. “No wonder he wanted a divorce.”
; “Yes, unfortunately for he and Grace, it didn’t work out. They weren’t compatible,” he said.
I grunted. “Are we done here?” I asked.
“Yes, you probably need some rest,” he said.
“I do. I’m supposed to meet Grace for lunch,” I replied.
“Business or pleasure?” he asked.
“Both. Always both,” I said with a smile. I was exhausted after the rebirth, but the thought of Grace always made me smile. Well, almost always.
Walking across the parking lot in a very short, flowy skirt, Grace battled the breeze outside to keep it from flying up.
“Motherfuck,” I muttered.
“Language, Sheriff,” Betty scolded.
Grace was late, but once I saw her in that skirt, I didn’t care. When she stepped into the diner, the entire room stopped to gawk at her. Long legs in red heels. Short black skirt. Tight sweater with the buttons bulging at her breasts.
“I told you I was joking,” I said.
“You don’t dictate what I wear Dylan Riggs,” she said. “Howdy, Betty.”
“Hi, Grace. You look mighty cold,” Betty said.
“It is cooler than I expected, but Sheriff Riggs said to wear a short skirt for our outing today,” she said.
Betty looked at me. Even Luther stared at me through the service window.
“It was a joke,” I protested.
“Could have fooled me,” Grace huffed sitting down on the stool next to me. The skirt rode high on her leg. I groaned, shifting my weight for the growing erection in my pants.
“Grace, you are killing me,” I muttered.
“I know,” she said, then kissed me on the cheek. Betty died laughing. I blushed fifty shades of red. She crossed her legs, and the edge of her heel dragged across my calf.
“What has gotten into you?” I asked.
“Just been a while since a handsome man asked me to dress up for lunch,” she purred. She even batted her eyelashes at me like a fool. This was all a game to her, and I fucking loved it. I wanted more of it. She had never flirted so hardcore before this.
She laughed and flirted through lunch, then agreed to ride with me out to the house where we found the moonshine.
“Just be careful in this old house. Especially in those heels,” I said as we walked up to the house.
“What heels?” she asked. I turned around to point out the red heels she had worn all day, but she stood behind me in tight jeans, tennis shoes and a green plaid button up shirt with a white tank underneath. I shook my head at her. “I’m not stupid, Dylan.”
“Never said you were,” I said, laughing at her. She dressed like that just to get a rise out of me at the diner. I should have had every warning bell going off in my head, but the fact of the matter was, I didn’t care. I soaked it all in.
We walked to the house to the pantry with the lock. “Think you could open that?” I asked.
“Sure,” she replied, as the tattoo on her arm flared with power. She touched the lock. Ice crystals formed all around it. Crackling sounds filled the small pantry. Then the lock popped in half, falling to the floor with a thud.
“I’ll lead just to make sure there is no one down here,” I said, pulling out my pistol.
“I’m sure I can handle myself,” she said. Knowing just a small amount of her power, she spoke the truth.
We walked down the steps slowly. The first room was empty just as before. The second was dark, but the Mason jars still lined the shelves. Nothing seemed disturbed.
“Let me get a light,” I said. Reaching for my flashlight.
She snapped her fingers, and candles on the shelves flamed to life.
“Oh,” I said. “Nice.”
“It’s absinthe,” she said.
“Yes. I figured it was. See these packets of herbs?” I asked.
“You make the grain alcohol then soak the herbs to create the hausgemacht,” she said. “Homebrew.”
“Is it potent?” I asked.
“Dunno. Depends on who made it,” she said. She picked up a jar, unscrewing the lid. Sniffing the liquid, her eyes rolled back in her head. “Damn. It’s been a long time since I’ve had absinthe.” Before I could stop her, she took a long swig of the green liquid. Her eyes twinkled with delight.
“Grace, you shouldn’t have done that,” I scolded.
“Why? It won’t affect me. Not like it would you. It’s great. You should try it,” she said, holding the open jar out to me.
“No, I’m working,” I said.
“I won’t tell,” she said with a wink. “Besides, it looks like you had a rough night. It will only soothe whatever ails you.”
Epically bad idea. I took the jar from her, taking a small sniff. The intense anise burned along my tongue with the stout grain alcohol burning the back of my throat, but there was something about it that was hopelessly enjoyable.
“Good?” she asked.
“So good that I might take the rest of the afternoon off,” I teased. However, the thought did cross my mind. A few drinks with Grace in a basement where no one could see us.
“Let’s do it,” she encouraged.
“I really shouldn’t,” I said. She walked toward me, and the skirt and heels reappeared. I blinked because I’d never seen such a powerful, quick spell like that. A devilish grin crossed her face. She traced a long, red nail down my shirt over my chest. “Grace, please don’t do that.”
“You want me to do it, don’t you?” she asked.
Before I even thought, I said, “Yes.”
She giggled. “What about this?” she asked, pressing her lips against my neck.
“Fuck, yes,” I said. “I shouldn’t, Grace.”
“Do you love her?” she asked, breathing heavily on my neck. I wrapped my arm around her waist, holding her to me.
“No,” I said. I couldn’t hold back my words. I couldn’t even lie. The green fairy had taken me with just a sip. “What’s in that moonshine?”
“A spell,” she smiled.
“No, Grace. We can’t do this. Please stop it,” I said, realizing now that Grace had set me up. The moonshine, the house, the lock, the dress, everything. “Why are you doing this?” My body trembled in fear of the complications that would arise if she asked the wrong question. Or the right one.
“I see you lying to me, Dylan. I just want to know the truth. I deserve it, don’t I?” she asked.
“Yes, you do, but there will be consequences,” I muttered.
“I know,” she responded, backing away from me. She started to pace the small room, debating her next question. “I’ll do you a favor. For every question I ask you, you may ask me one in response.”
At that point, I tried to walk out, but the ward on the door kept me in. “Grace,” I pleaded with her.
“I’ll let you out after a couple of questions. I don’t want you in trouble with the Sanhedrin. I just need some answers. I need a reason to stay in Shady Grove,” she said.
Jeremiah had told me that keeping her here was part of my job. I doubted this was how he intended to do it, though.
“Just ask, so we can get out of here,” I said.
Her brown eyes darkened. I had hurt her feelings without meaning to. “Did the Sanhedrin bring you here to kill me?”
“No. I am to keep you here. Keep you safe,” I replied.
“Do you have the ability to kill me?” she asked.
“I do, but I would never,” I choked out.
“Can I kill you?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied. “I get three questions.”
“Sorry. I forgot,” she said.
“Did you plant the fields with the herbs?” I asked.
“No, I just used them this year to make the absinthe. They went to waste last year,” she said.
“Did you make it just to trap me?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“Why?” I asked.
Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, and she dropped her head. “You said we were f
riends. I haven’t had many true friends. I feel like you want to tell me everything, but something holds you back. I thought if I made absinthe with the spell that if you were ordered not to speak the truth, then it would release the command, and you could talk to me freely. But I get the sense that you lie to me on purpose.”
It was a twisted idea, but she had done it for me. “Was it purely for my sake, but for yours also?”
“Mine also,” she said.
“Does it make you tell the truth?” I asked.
“I’m bound to the truth as a fairy. I’ve been here in the real world long enough that I can get away with small things, but things of consequence, I cannot,” she replied. “I get two more.”
I walked to her, running my thumb over the tears on her cheeks. “Ask,” I said. It was far too late now. Either the lies would end here, or Jeremiah would erase all of this from her mind.
“Do you forgive me for doing this?” she asked. Her breath hitched with a sob.
“Yes, of course,” I said planting a kiss on her forehead. I wouldn’t kiss her lips until I knew she would be able to remember it.
She pulled me tight to her body, lifting big, brown wanting eyes to mine. “Do you want me?” she asked.
I cleared my throat because I had been so used to denying it. The absinthe swirled in my head, and I murmured, “More than anything.”
“Then take me. Why don’t you?” she sounded desperate.
“I’m not allowed,” I said. “You are off-limits until Jeremiah says otherwise.”
“I hate him. I hate this stupid contract. I hate this stupid town,” she complained but kept her body close to mine.
“I know,” I said, looking at her.
“Your turn,” she mumbled.
“What did Joey Blankenship do to piss you off?” I asked. She shoved my chest hard and darted across the room. She pointed a long finger at me.
“That’s not fair, Dylan Riggs!” she shouted at me.
“It was my turn!” I protested. “Tell me, Grace. Because whatever he did, I don’t want to ever repeat that mistake.”
Her eyes widened, and she pressed herself back against the only bare wall in the room. I stalked toward her, step by step. She shook her head trying to fight telling me the truth. “The truth is required, because of the rules you made.”