Change of Heart (The Potentate of Atlanta Book 3)

by Hailey Edwards

  “Gwyllgi are the only faction experiencing catastrophic side effects, as of yet,” he countered. “She might be willing to take that risk.”

  “We don’t know if the wargs will pull through,” I argued. “Their brains could still melt.”

  “I like your optimism.”

  “Even Mendelsohn doesn’t deserve to have what little gray matter he’s got leak out his ears.” A knot formed in my gut. “The pregnant females worry me more. I hope their babies won’t pay for this.”

  “Don’t borrow trouble.” He walked me to the door. “We’ve got enough to go around.”

  Hank tipped his head at Bishop, shot me a warning glance, then resumed his position.

  “Get some sleep.” Bishop spun on his heel and tossed a wave. “You look like you could use it.”

  The trick almost worked enough for me to be too annoyed to notice he had walked me home, but I did. I shouldn’t have been surprised, he was sneaky like that, but he would kill my rep babying me.

  Even after I put that together, the niggling sense of doubt persisted. I had missed something, but what? It finally clocked me over the head as I stepped into the elevator, and I could have strangled Ambrose for not sharing with me sooner. As much crowd skimming as he had done, he must have known.

  Alone in the elevator, I hissed under my breath. “What did it do to necromancers?”

  The shadow, alert now that I had deigned to notice him again, drew a finger across his throat.

  Fantastic. Absolutely fabulous. This night kept getting better and better.

  The Society would not be thrilled to learn a designer drug was lethal to our section of the population.

  I was still digesting that morsel when the elevator doors slid open onto my hall, and I spotted Midas halfway to my apartment. Hearing the booth’s arrival, its distinctive ting, he glanced behind him.

  “Hey.” He waited for me to catch up to him. “How did your night go?”

  “I’ve had worse.” I let us into my apartment. “I’ve had better too.” I searched his face. “You?”

  “Two teens in critical condition. One dead. Plus Krista.” He sank onto the futon and dropped his head back to stare at the ceiling. “We have to stop the coven.”

  “We will.” I joined him, curling against his side. The tension that touch ignited in him I ignored until he relaxed into me. “They’re targeting the vulnerable, and that’s not okay.”

  “All those parents,” he murmured. “They expect me to fix this.”

  “I understand the pack looks to you and your mom, but that’s too much to put on you alone.”

  “I’m not alone.” He almost managed a smile. “I have you, and they know it.”

  “I’m not sure I would classify it as you having me, but I am yours for the duration.”

  “I like the sound of that.” He touched my cheek, traced his finger down my jaw. “About earlier…”

  “I’m sorry I bit you,” I said solemnly before he twisted himself into a pretzel explaining what required no explanation. “I’ll try to control my savage urges next time.”

  Midas mouthed the words thank you and tucked me in even tighter.

  You’re welcome, I pressed into the skin of his throat before grunting to my feet to order us pizza for dinner.

  Nine

  The goblin cackles with glee and sends the giant to fetch Midas from his cage.

  “You’re gonna love this, me boy.” He does a little dance. “I found the most gorgeous female, I did. She’s fresh. Never stepped into the ring.” He clapped his hands. “This will be a fight for the books.”

  Midas says nothing as his cage door is wrenched open and the massive fist engulfs him. Scars crisscross the giant’s skin, gifts from him and others, but fighting does no good. The giant plops him down in front of the goblin whose manic glee rouses the feral half of him in wary acceptance of what’s to come.

  The human half of him broken, Midas allows himself to be bathed and fed. He allows them to do what they will. None of it matters. He’s not here. Not really. Not since the first female’s neck snapped between his teeth.

  The crowd roars when he’s presented as the reigning champion, and he hates himself more the louder they cheer. But then the gate opens to reveal his opponent, and his heart stops. Turns to ice in his chest.

  “Lethe,” he breathes, the beast in him awakening.

  Midas woke drenched in cold sweat, shivering, and…with Hadley facing him, stroking his damp hair.

  “Sorry,” he rasped. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “I had too much in my head to rest.” She kept petting him, comforting him. “You didn’t bother me.”

  “I can go up to my apartment,” he offered, dreading her answer. “Let you go back to sleep.”

  “Spoon, stop talking nonsense.” She turned away from him and scooted back. “Do your job.”

  Sliding an arm under her, he yanked her flush against him and held her tight. “Spoon?”

  Laughing as if delighted to be held, she glanced over her shoulder. “Do you prefer Goldie or Prince?”

  “Can I choose none of the above?”

  “Spoon it is.” She rubbed his arms where they crossed over her stomach. “Sleep.” She yawned. “We’ve got ass to kick tonight.”

  With her warm body pliant in his arms, her gentle fingers caressing old scars, he did.

  “You haven’t broken up with him yet?”

  “Remy,” Hadley sighed from across the room. “That’s mean.”

  “I have a knife you can sleep with under your pillow.”

  “Remy.”

  “What? He’s fruit loops. Who knows when he might snap and kill you in your sleep?”

  “He’s not fruit loops, and he won’t snap. Even if he did snap, he wouldn’t kill me in my sleep.”

  The ringing endorsement set Midas’s ears burning. “She’s right.”

  “No one asked you,” Remy snarled. “Of course you would say you’re not going to kill her.”

  Only the maddest of the stark ravers killed their mates, but Hadley didn’t know that she was his, and he wasn’t about to tell her. Tricking her into courtship was bad enough, but he refused to let his instincts condemn her to a life—or a relationship—she didn’t want. She fought so hard for her dreams. He would rather let her go than watch her sacrifice even one on his behalf.

  The final choice would be hers to make, and he…would have to live with the consequences.

  “You’ll want to hear this.” Hadley sat on the futon near his hip and passed him a café mocha. “We’ve got a party to crash.”

  Leveraging into a seated position, Midas accepted what Hadley considered breakfast with a smile he couldn’t quite catch before Remy noticed.

  “Ugh.” She wrinkled her nose. “He thinks he’s special because you made him coffee.” She scooped a mug off the table. “She made me one too.”

  “Hate Midas on your own time.” Hadley threw a pillow at her head. “Not while you’re on the clock.”

  Remy grumbled loud enough for him to hear but soft enough Hadley let her get away with it.

  “There’s a club in Buckhead, the Ivy.” She slurped her drink loudly as punctuation. “Rumor has it, there’s another invite-only party there tonight. Starts in a few hours. Faete is supposed to be on tap.”

  “One of mine got into the last party without an invite.” Hadley pulled on her bottom lip. “What are the odds we can walk in off the street tonight?”

  “None to none.” Remy started pacing. “The original invites were super fancy to guarantee the recipients would flash them around, help build the hype.” A snarl curled her lip. “This one is to establish a supply chain. No freebies. It’s pay to play.”

  Midas stared at her over the rim of his mug as he drank. “How did you come by this information?”

  “None-ya,” Remy snarked. “As in none of your business.”

  Anticipating the hostile response, he checked with Hadley. “Do you trust her intel?”r />
  “I do.” Her expression lingered on Remy. “Go do what you do. Report back when you know more.”

  “Sure thing.” She yanked a crumpled paper from her pocket and slapped it down on the kitchen table. “Numbers from last night.”

  “You’re really angling for that bonus.” Hadley chuckled. “Keep up the good work.”

  “A bonus ain’t enough for what I do.” Remy yanked open the door. “I want a raise.”

  She slammed it behind her, and Hadley just shook her head.

  “She’s not wrong.” She glanced at the paper. “She’s a whiz at sales. Who knew?”

  Having visited malls in Atlanta and experienced their breed of aggressive salesmanship, he had no trouble picturing Remy snagging shoppers as they emerged from other stores, dragging them to the Peachy Keen Sheets kiosk, and bullying them into making purchases.

  Given Hadley’s soft spot for the murderous young woman, Midas let it go.

  “How do you propose we get an invite?” He finished his drink. “Any friends who can pull strings?”

  Mouth stretched thin, she glanced at her phone where it sat on the coffee table. “Maybe.”

  “I need fresh clothes and to make some calls.” He climbed off the futon and rinsed his mug in the sink. “What time should I meet you back here?”

  “Give me two hours.” She flopped sideways with a groan then raised her head. “Going upstairs or out?”

  “Upstairs.”

  “Okay.” She dropped it again. “Just checking.” Lifted it again. “That doesn’t count as nagging, does it?”

  “No?”

  “You don’t sound convinced.” She toed off her socks and hauled the sheet up to her neck. “I’m not sure how this relationship stuff works, so let me know if I start bugging you.”

  “It’s nice.” He shrugged. “Having someone who cares.”

  “Right?” She glanced over at him. “I didn’t think I would like it, but…it feels good coming home to someone.” Her cheeks reddened. “To you anyway.”

  The beast in his middle propelled him across the room, and he claimed her lips. “Are you napping?”

  Proof she had sat up with him through his night terrors, which could last hours, left him humbled.

  “No.” She tugged the sheet higher. “I’m getting comfortable to make uncomfortable calls.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” He crossed to the door. “Two hours enough?”

  “Yes,” she mumbled sleepily. “Plenty.”

  Leaving her tightened his chest, but he exited into the hall and bumped into Ares. “Do you always lurk outside Hadley’s door?”

  “Usually only when you’re on the other side of it.” She waved him onto the elevators. “Trust me, I don’t want to hear all the mushy stuff that goes on in there. I only lurk when ordered to.”

  He mashed the button for his floor, and they hit his apartment for fresh clothes and shoes.

  “You’re half moved in here.” Ares whistled. “Why not cut the cord? Leave the den altogether?”

  “I might, in a few weeks.”

  “After the courtship ends,” she realized. “How’s that going?”

  The beast knows its mate and has claimed her. The man is a few steps behind but catching up fast. It’s done, and it can’t be undone. She might not feel the same, and if she leaves…I’ll never mate again. It’s as simple as that.

  “It’s going,” he said to throw her off the scent. “What brought you upstairs?”

  “We got word there’s another party happening tonight somewhere in Buckhead. No specifics this time. I milked our contacts, but that’s all they’ve got. Though it won’t be hard to narrow the search area once the drugs start flowing.”

  “Any updates on the teens?”

  “Abbott has them stabilized, but he says he needs a sample of unaltered roach saliva for any hope of an antidote. The magic used to create the compound has corrupted it too far.”

  “We have to hunt.” That’s what she meant. “Do we have any leads on potential Martian Roaches?”

  “Nope.” She busied herself in the kitchen while he changed. “They up and vanished.” She lowered her voice. “Probably after they heard themselves being referred to as Martian Roaches.”

  Midas cut her a sharp look that warned her to leave Hadley’s unique naming conventions alone.

  “Personally,” she said, ignoring him, “I would have gone with one of the classics. Nasties works just fine for me. Big nasty as the singular.”

  “Hadley loves the classics, hence the name Martian Roach.”

  “Hadley is a flaming geek, hence the name Martian Roach.”

  Midas chuckled, unable to deny it. “We’ll hit the party tonight, see what we can learn.”

  The sellers wouldn’t disclose the product’s origin to buyers, not only to avoid competition should anyone decide to create their own supply, but to prevent the instinctive recoil that came from learning where this newest high originated.

  Hardcore users wouldn’t care, but it was hard to dress up roach spit for the high-end clientele.

  “All right.” Ares followed him into the hall and then the elevator. “Do you remember things getting this screwy while Linus was holding the reins?”

  A warning growl tickled the back of his throat. “What are you implying?”

  “Just making conversation.”

  “The coven isn’t Hadley’s fault.”

  “I’m not saying it is.” She drummed her fingers on the rail behind her. “The timing concerns me, is all.”

  “I haven’t eaten breakfast yet.” The drink Hadley made him was pure sugar, and it didn’t count as far as his carnivorous other half was concerned. “Get to the point.”

  “Predators can sense a power vacuum waiting to open, and they’re happy to fill it.”

  A shock jolted his system. “You think she can’t handle the role?”

  “I like Hadley. I do.” She exhaled. “But she’s dragging the pack deeper and deeper into her troubles, and that can be viewed as a sign of weakness. We were never called upon to aid the previous potentates, but we’re at her beck and call. Any outsiders who pick up on that might consider her easy prey.”

  “She’s not.” As much as his protective instincts screamed at him to keep her safe, she was a predator, the same as him. “Anyone who tries her will learn it too.”

  “What about anyone who attempts to get to her through you or the pack?”

  “Where is this coming from?” He mashed the button to stop the elevator between floors. “What’s wrong?”

  “Liz is pregnant.” Her hand clenched on the bar behind her. “We’ve been trying for years with donors from her species and mine, and now it’s happened at the absolute worst time.”

  “The alpha’s duty is to put their pack before themselves and their own happiness.”

  “God.” She ducked her head. “I didn’t mean…”

  “You want me to give up Hadley.”

  “I don’t want Liz to get hurt in the war that’s brewing. I don’t want to lose this baby either.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “It would kill Liz. She’s five months in, just starting to show. How can I ask her to risk it?”

  “I never wanted to be beta. I always thought Lethe would lead the pack when Mom stepped down.” Midas straightened from his lean and hit the button. “I’ve never wanted this, and now I can’t escape it.” He exited the second the booth hit the lobby. “Don’t ask me to give up the one thing I’ve chosen for myself.”

  Hadley, still in her pajamas, waited to get on with her arms loaded down with boxes. She must have been called downstairs for a delivery after he left.

  “What is all that?” He noticed the label as he reached for the topmost boxes. “Inventory?”

  “I got it.” She sidestepped him, ignoring Ares, and got in the elevator. “Later.”

  “Aww hell,” she mumbled. “I didn’t mean for her to overhear that.”

  Midas didn’t comfort her. He was too riled, his feral half too al
ert to a potential threat to his mate. Instead he led the way to brief the enforcers for the night, unsure how to smooth things over with Hadley and wishing he had time to call his sister. Just to hear her voice and remind himself she was okay, that she had survived. For the first time, it felt like maybe they both had.

  Ten

  “Don’t ask me to give up the one thing I’ve chosen for myself.”

  That choice soundbite, paired with Midas decking Ford at the cabin, left me with few illusions Midas was taking our courtship seriously. As in, he was picturing a life with me. As in, he wanted that big M word at the end of it. As in, he wanted me to…

  As in, he wanted me.

  Me.

  What was he thinking? Had he met me? I was a hot mess. Steaming hot. Flaming hot. Solar flare hot.

  The packmates I met at the den had been kind to me, and I was now madly in love with Samzilla, but the first glimpse they got of me wasn’t the same version as what Ares and the other enforcers at the Faraday saw. They had fought alongside me, patched me up, and witnessed the troubles that came with my position. They had the clearest perspective outside my team of what I brought to Atlanta, and what I cost it too.

  That Ares, who I had considered a friend, provoked Midas into making that comment hurt.

  A lot.

  No conversation leading up to that declaration could be a good one.

  The unexpected delivery had put me in the wrong place at the wrong time, and now my head wasn’t where it ought to be prior to infiltrating a club full of dealers ready to poison the city for a few extra bucks. I had to shut down this self-doubt before it got me—and Midas—killed.

  “This is going to be one of those nights.” I let myself into my apartment and set the boxes in the entryway. “I can feel it.”

  Ambrose, who didn’t care one whit about the Peachy Keen color of the month, circled the boxes.

  “What’s got your tail in a twist?” I watched him spin faster and faster. “They’re just sheets.”