Change of Heart (The Potentate of Atlanta Book 3)

by Hailey Edwards

  A short yip urged us to wait, and I grasped the reason for the peculiar gait before I spotted the warg.

  A female limped toward us, chunks of hide missing and blood running down her sides. She made it three more steps and collapsed in a twitching pile.

  Fear she was a host locked my knees. I had seen what Martian Roaches did to those. A distant worry was she might be coven, sent to trick me into taking her back to the Faraday. The old Trojan horse bit. It was a classic for a reason.

  Bishop looked to me for guidance, and duty overcame caution. I couldn’t risk letting an innocent die.

  “Stand back,” I cautioned him. “Call for a medic.”

  “All right.” He did as I ordered, but he wasn’t happy about it. “Don’t touch her if you can help it.”

  Circling her, I got a better look at her injuries. There was no way these were self-inflicted. Having seen a roach burst from a host, I felt confident that wasn’t the situation here either. She appeared to have been mauled by a creature with fangs and claws. In a city like this one, that wasn’t saying much. We had all kinds. But, given the fact she was a warg, I was willing to bet another shifter had done it to her.

  Her groans and whimpers grew louder, and she began to thrash on the asphalt. Her spine bowed, and her legs kicked wildly.

  “She’s shifting,” Bishop warned. “Don’t get too close.”

  “Yes, Mom.” I eased back slowly, so as not to provoke her when she was most vulnerable. “Will she survive?”

  The change for wargs was bone-snapping agony, unlike the sanitized magical gwyllgi transformations. It took a long time, and it was a show of faith on her part that she allowed herself to be vulnerable in the presence of fellow predators. That made up my mind for me. She must know me from somewhere.

  During the Bonnie Diaz debacle, I had met several pack members of the alphas I interviewed. I had passed out a lot of cards too. Their animal halves weren’t inclined to trust paper, so I had a bad feeling I could guess who was about to be revealed to us.

  “Gayle.” I padded closer. “Can you hear me?”

  Her shallow breaths weren’t promising, neither was the amount of exposed bone.

  “Help…” she exhaled softly, “…me.”

  “We’ve got medics on the way.” I knelt beside her. “Who did this?”

  “He killed…them.” A sob hitched her chest. “All…of them.”

  “Deric?” Ice spread down my spine when she confirmed it, but I fought through the instinctive recoil. “The females in quarantine?”

  “The…pack.” A shudder rippled through her limbs. “Gone.”

  Bishop caught my eye, and he shook his head, but I refused to believe that she was beyond saving.

  “You did good.” I stroked her hair, aware of the comfort wargs found in touch. “You told us, and we’ll go handle it. You can rest now. The medics will be here in a minute, and we’ll get you help.”

  “Too late.” Gayle lowered her eyelids, her dark lashes matted with blood. “Make the coven…pay.”

  The pain tightening her body released her in death, and she relaxed with an almost relieved sigh.

  Grief and rage twisted through me, most of it self-directed. I had let her slip through my fingers. I called once to check in on her, and when she didn’t answer, I let it go. Forgot about it. Forgot about her.

  I should have remembered. I should have tried harder. I should have…been enough for her.

  But I wasn’t, and the mental voice that sounded so much like my mother promised I never would be.

  The medics arrived and called her time of death.

  Who to call? Who to notify? Who was left?

  The cleaners were en route to pick up the body, they told me, but they had other calls on the board.

  They left Gayle alone and growing cold on the pavement, and so I stayed with her.

  I might have held vigil there all night if a familiar presence hadn’t enveloped me.

  Midas held me where I stood, and his scent brought me back to myself. I’m not sure how long I was gone, but I must have spaced out if Bishop had time to call in backup before I broke out of my haze.

  “Deric did this,” I told Midas. “That’s what she said.” I leaned into him. “She had a crush on him, and he killed her.”

  Tension ran through Midas where his body pressed against mine, and he rested his chin on top of my head.

  “Either he bought more Faete,” he murmured, “or there were delayed side effects from his first hit.”

  “I can’t keep shutting down like this.” I forced myself to let him go. “I have to prove—”

  “—you can do your job?”

  “Yes,” I snarled. “Linus would—”

  “—mourn in private. That you show your grief isn’t a weakness.”

  “Are you going to let me complete a sentence?”

  He waited, eyebrows raised, but I was out of steam. I hated when people turned my favorite tricks around on me.

  “We need to confirm Gayle’s story first.” Bishop sat and took Gayle’s limp hand. “I’ll wait with her.”

  Vision liquid, I bent and hugged him around the neck. “Thanks.”

  “Midas is right.” He patted my hand. “Linus showed no emotion, and it worked for him. Your passion is what draws people to you. It’s what makes people trust you. Don’t smother that spark. It’s got to light your way for a long time to come.”

  Wiping my face with my hands, I left him with Gayle and arranged for a ride to Mendelsohn territory.

  Having been out there more than a few times, I knew it for a long trip. Impossibly long for someone in Gayle’s condition. Yet she had done it. Somehow, against all odds, she had reached me.

  “I’m coming with you,” Midas said, and I didn’t have the heart to fight him.

  Neither of us spoke the whole way. There was too much hurt for me to open my mouth without hateful words falling out when this had nothing to do with Midas. The pain had dug in so deep, I had to examine it before it got the better of me. That was another thing Linus had taught me—not to go off half-cocked.

  Call me if you need me.

  How often did I toss those words at people? I might as well punctuate sentences with it. Mostly people didn’t hear, or they didn’t expect me to be good for it. Gayle had called me when she was out of options, and I had gone to help her. I had done what no one else would or could do for her. It wasn’t pretty, but it was necessary. And tonight, when she had run out of choices again, she had hunted me down and honored me with her final trust.

  The car rolled to a stop, and Midas and I exited the vehicle on different sides. I worried that said something about our states of mind, but I couldn’t give our courtship headspace right now.

  We walked down to the wooded area where the Mendelsohn pack had made their camp, and I didn’t require Midas’s senses to tell Gayle was right.

  The bodies of men and women littered the ground. No children, but the lack didn’t comfort me. The bonfire at the center of it all made shadows dance where there was no other life, the effect eerie.

  The wind shifted, and I caught a whiff of burning flesh. Given my recent experience with fire, I knew it was an agonizing way to go. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Not even the alpha who sat on the woodpile, flames licking over him, as his skin bubbled and burst.

  “Mendelsohn.” I kept a safe distance, but I wanted to make sure he could hear. “Deric.”

  “They’re dead.”

  How his voice carried, I have no idea. The fire roared around him, screaming with hunger and rage.

  “Come out, and we can talk about this.”

  Gayle’s final plea made a lot more sense. She had come to me, not to tell me what happened, but to beg me to save him.

  “I was their alpha.” He stared at his hands. “I should have protected them. Even from myself.”

  The mass murder of his pack had lent him clarity. This was the most coherent he had ever sounded. He had never struck me as a part
icularly good or wise or kind alpha, but his people had loved him. That counted for something.

  “Midas.” I took in the scene, debated our options. “How do we get him out?”

  Midas didn’t answer, and I found him staring at a female’s corpse near the edge of the ring of light. A shudder rippled through him, and magic splashed over his ankles. He traded one skin for another, and his eyes were empty when they met mine. The humor, the intelligence, the fundamental elements that made him who he was had vanished from his expression.

  The beast watched the alpha burn a moment longer, but Mendelsohn couldn’t hold his gaze.

  Ambrose was content to bask near the fire, happy to watch as Mendelsohn burned. There was no magic to consume worth stirring for, so he joined the other shadows in their chaotic dance. He would be no help.

  That left me to figure a way to get Mendelsohn out of there without going up in flames. Again.

  There was no running water, so I couldn’t douse him. The bucket or two of drinking water I spotted wouldn’t be enough to kill the fire either. He had built it up high, and the stink of accelerant told me he planned to go out with his pack as penance for his crimes.

  Tugging my shirt over my head, I dunked the fabric in the nearest bucket then pulled it on. I poured water over my hair to wet it and had the front of my pants soaked before I heard the roar of challenge.

  Midas, who was still burnt, even in this form, had leapt into the fire to haul out Mendelsohn.

  I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t move.

  Finally, I unlocked my knees and rushed back and forth around the ditch meant to contain the blaze. There was no good way to insert myself into their fight. It was vicious. Mendelsohn was hurt, but Midas wasn’t at his best either. Mendelsohn had determination on his side, a total disregard for his life, and he was winning.

  “Screw it.” I leapt into the fire, but Midas knocked me aside before the first bead of sweat fell. “No.”

  Mendelsohn took the opportunity to impale himself with a metal skewer that appeared to belong to a rotisserie set meant for roasting game.

  I fought against Midas, but he held me down with a paw to my sternum.

  The cold light in his eyes chilled me, and I froze when his claws flexed dangerously close to my heart.

  “I’m not afraid of you.” I glared up at him. “You won’t hurt me.”

  An inquisitive rumble in the back of his throat all but begged me to test him.

  “I will kick your bald and scabby ass from here to New York if you don’t let me up now.”

  The beast didn’t want to, that much was obvious, but a familiar alertness flooded his gaze, and he backed away from me.

  Once I scrabbled onto my feet, I dumped the remaining water over my head and went for Mendelsohn. He was dead before he cleared the flames. I told myself he would have died anyway, but I was pissed at Midas for interfering. A few seconds either way could have made all the difference.

  I whirled on him, ready to give him a piece of my mind, but he sat with a vacant stare that chilled me to the bone. He had shifted while my back was turned, and he kept staring at his hands…the same as Mendelsohn had done.

  That spark of righteous anger snuffed out to cold embers when his haunted gaze met mine.

  A lilt flavored his words, but he didn’t seem to notice. “I almost…”

  “You almost got your ass kicked.” I sat beside him. “I was playing being nice because I like you.”

  “You couldn’t stop me.” He curled his abused fingers. “Not if I wanted it bad enough.”

  “Try me,” I dared him, proud my voice didn’t tremble. “I’m tougher than I look.”

  “I could kill you,” he said softly. “So easily.”

  This was about more than Mendelsohn. This was about the nightmares that woke him, the past that haunted him. I could back down, let him brood, and hope it passed. Or I could prove to him, to both of us, that I could take him. It would alleviate his fears, smash the walls between us, or kill me in the process.

  Ambrose perked at the idea of pitting our strength against Midas, and I hated the thrill he fed into my blood.

  “I’m done with this.” I got to my feet. “I’m over it.”

  Midas nodded, his shoulders relaxing, as if he had always known it would come to this.

  This, in his mind, clearly meant goodbye.

  The ease with which he gave up on us earned him a punch to his stupid square jaw. The obvious relief at it being over between us got him a kick to the side of his stupid handsome face. The fact he let me beat on him, welcomed it, made me think I was negotiating with the wrong half of him.

  “Change,” I ordered him.

  “No.” He dug his fingers into the ground, his muscles trembling. “Hadley, no.”

  “Change.”

  “You don’t understand.” His tormented gaze found mine as magic puddled underneath him. “Run.”

  “I’m tired of running.” I meant it, with every fiber of my being. “We’re settling this tonight.”

  The change took him, swept him up, and left him in a quivering mass of rage shaped as his gwyllgi.

  “Midas is mine.” I sank power into my voice. “That means you’re mine too.” His lips quivered, teeth peeking through. “You hear me?” I took a firm step closer. “Knock it off.” And another. “Right now.” And another. “You think you can take me?” I stood toe to paw with him. “If you think…uh…”

  The beast lowered his head, lay on the ground, then rolled over to expose his vulnerable belly.

  Submission from a future alpha was a big deal. This wasn’t Midas the man, this was Midas the beast. They were the same, but they weren’t the same. Midas employed higher reasoning. The beast was a creature of instinct. Where the man might be swayed by his emotions, the beast responded to strength.

  He believed I was stronger than him, and that was sobering.

  Sure, I figured Ambrose and I could take him in a no-holds-barred fight. Mostly because Ambrose played dirty, and I counted on Midas not to want to hurt me.

  Basically, I expected to hold my own. This…was not that.

  The beast thumped his tail once, an invitation to rub his stomach, and I did. With Ambrose on standby.

  Uncomfortable was a good word for seeing one’s boyfriend belly up with his tongue lolling.

  Relieved was another.

  I got the distinct feeling the beast I had been interacting with up until now was a watered-down version Midas had deemed fit for my consumption. One with his wildness leashed, tamed by my hand. Or so he would have me believe. This guy was the real deal. Blood, fang, and claw guided him. He was a creature of instinct, and his must be roaring at him.

  “Okay.” I flexed my cramping fingers. “Are we done here?”

  The beast whined in its throat but let the magic wash it away to reveal the man.

  “You want to explain what just happened?” I waited for him to speak, but he kept silent. “You’ve got Jekyll and Hyde syndrome.” Still nothing. “I’ve read about it in wargs. Most who suffer from the condition end up that way through trauma.”

  “I obeyed you.”

  Relieved he was talking again, I shrugged it off with a smile. “I’m good at yelling until people do what I say.”

  “I shifted when you commanded me to, Hadley. I obeyed you.”

  “Are you sure?” Yes, I felt stupid the second I asked, but oh well. Nothing new there.

  “You magically forced my body to listen to you.” He stared at me. “I had no will of my own.”

  Recoiling from him, I tasted bile in the back of my throat. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

  No wonder he hated the power that came along with his mantle if a sharp word bent people’s wills to his.

  “I’m not mad.” He reached for me before I escaped him. “I’m just…surprised.”

  “The courtship thing must be messing with us.” I wished I had wiped the dampness from my palms before they slid against his. “T
hat must be it.” I searched his face. “Right?”

  The cry of sirens snapped his jaw shut on whatever answer he had been about to give.

  “We need to move.” He stood and pulled me up with him. “The sentinels and the cleaners will be here soon. If we want answers, we need to search Mendelsohn’s tent before they arrive.” He yanked me after him. “Whatever happened tonight, the answers must be here.”

  I wasn’t fooled by his sudden sense of urgency, but he had a point. We had to act fast.

  “You check his.” I took a moment to orient myself. “I’ll search Gayle’s.”

  We split up, and Ambrose decided I had become the more interesting one, so he shadowed me.

  Most of the camp appeared abandoned, but Gayle’s corner of it had been destroyed. Her thin mattress had been shredded, and so had her pillow. All her clothes and personal belongings had been scattered and smashed in a fit of rage.

  What remained of her grandfather didn’t amount to much, but he had died with his back to a large box.

  “There’s nothing here.” I checked with Ambrose. “Whoever flipped this place must have found whatever Gayle was hiding.”

  The shadow gave a negligent shrug, bored again, but he did spare the box a second glance. It made me look at it harder too.

  “W-w-who’s there?” a tiny voice whispered. “H-h-hello?”

  “I’m Hadley Whitaker,” I announced myself. “I’m with the Office of the Potentate of Atlanta.”

  “You bought me ch-ch-chicken nuggets.”

  “Lyssa?”

  “Where’s Mom? Aunt Gayle?” She cried brokenly. “Great-gramps?”

  “Hold tight, sweetie.” I moved her grandfather’s corpse and covered it in a sheet before examining the box. “Who put you in there?”

  “Aunt Gayle.” She sniffled. “The release latch is in here.”

  “Can you pull it?” I gentled my voice. “I’m right here. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

  “O-o-okay.”

  Metal grated against metal, and a pop released a breath of stale air as the box opened a crack.

  “Come on out.” I took her hands and helped her unfold. “There you go.”

  The girl tottered into me and wrapped her arms around my neck, sobbing against my throat.