Wolf's Bane: Book Three of the Demimonde

by Unknown

  "Witches, Rode?" I interrupted. "Didn't you think I should have learned about witches sometime over the last year or two?"

  "Not now, Sophie."

  "Okay. Not now." God, I wanted to slug him. "Let's just wait until someone else tries to kill me. Maybe an elf assassin with a crossbow and a Crystal of Destiny will be waiting by my car."

  "Don't be ridiculous," Dierk said. "There's no such thing as elves."

  "Why not?" I waved my hands over my head, looking almost as crazy as I felt. "Did they all perish in the Great Cataclysm?"

  "They don't exist." He looked at me as if he suspected a head injury. "Where do you get these strange ideas?"

  Rodrian swung a heavy lidded-look at Dierk.

  "She's a writer," he said, as if it would explain everything.

  "Ah." Dierk nodded sagely. "Overactive imagination."

  I treated each of them to the dirtiest look I could muster. "Will you two stop cooperating? It's getting on my nerves."

  They exchanged a smirk. I was this close to throwing my shoes at them.

  "We will have to bring her back in," Dierk said. "The witch will have to be handled with delicacy. It would be wise to avoid incident."

  Rodrian nodded his agreement. "Personally, I think the time for diplomacy passed when she used her will on Sophie." He looked at me. "I can smell your blood, Sophie. I can guess what she did."

  "Tancred drew blood for testing," I said.

  "And he deposited it into a handkerchief in Dierk's pocket?" He tilted his head back and looked down his nose at me. "Unless you mean to say Dierk is the one who hurt you."

  "Of course, he didn't."

  "And yet, you keep ending up in harm's way. How many attempts have been made upon your life since that man has come to town, Sophie? I want you safe. Just come home."

  I felt the weight behind the words. He missed me. Home. Sounded so nice when he said it.

  I turned to speak but Dierk answered first. "She is home. She is with me."

  Rodrian responded snakebite-fast, as if he'd been waiting for the opportunity. "I didn't ask you, Adeluf. I asked Sophie. You may be a ruler in your own court but here, you're just another guy with a hot eye and a sharp bite. Now back off."

  A low rumble of a growl started somewhere behind me. This is why I preferred standing against walls. I looked frantically around, trying to locate the wolf so I could plan where to dive should it decide to spring.

  There was no wolf. It was Dierk.

  His eyes had bled to true gold, the wolf king's eyes, and he lowered his chin to his chest. In four strong strides he crossed the room, stopping right in front of me, hands out slightly as if to better block me. "You act as if she is yours."

  "She is mine." Rodrian rose to his full height and met Dierk, glare for savage glare. "Is that your way? Parade into another man's land and city and randomly decide whom to steal? You obviously have no respect for the privacy of a man's home. Do your people make a habit of carrying off women into the night? Is that a Were thing or a German thing?"

  Dierk's voice dropped down into a growl. "You go too far."

  "Not nearly far enough. You've no honor. You make covenants with criminals and vampires. You encourage the destruction of the weak and the innocents. You bar the way for justice and resolution. You stole my son. You will not steal her!"

  The temper that had been rising in Dierk seemed to level off and his lips parted in a silent Ah. "I did none of those things, Thurzo."

  Rodrian's temper was still climbing, his power pulsing with a seething red rage. "You did."

  "I did not," Dierk insisted, his voice calm. He was doing that whole I'm-not-overreacting thing. I knew it would drive Rodrian nuts. "Where is your daughter?"

  "You leave Shiloh—"

  "Not the child. Where is Brianda?"

  "Why? You want her to slaughter you instead? She'd have no qualms kicking an old man's—"

  "We are the same age." He shook his head in contempt. "You DV are all alike. Why do none of you count the years? Do you have so many that you do not need to treat them like the precious commodity they are? My father, Thurzo, was not as honorable as he could have been."

  Rodrian seemed to take a reluctant pause, as if remembering. "Sins of the father. . ."

  "I cannot make up for what he did to you, but I am not the same man."

  "Then show me your honor." Rodrian lost his angry stance and took on a vulnerable tone. He rubbed his mouth, gestured to the door. "Leave. Just leave us alone. Leave her alone."

  "I cannot." Dierk's voice was softer, dropping to a regretful tone. I knew he felt for Rodrian's agony, sympathized with his losses. Dierk did not wish to cause pain. "I will not leave her. I don't expect you to understand and I will not explain. Sophie and I have a road to travel. Together. There is no separate path for each of us."

  "Sophie." Rodrian pulled me away from Dierk, blocking the rest of the room. His eyes were pools of copper, his voice anguished. "Please. Send him away."

  "I can't, Rode." My heart ached for the desolation I felt in his power. I wanted to comfort him, to drain away every last wave of pain. If he felt anything like I felt, though, his pain was near bottomless. We would drown together. "I know it hurts you, but I can't."

  "You want him." His voice sounded strangled. Rodrian looked stricken, felt stricken.

  I didn't want to be the cause of his pain but I didn't want to string him along, chasing a resolution that might never materialize. I know the pain of chasing hope when hope was only a ghost of a wish. Taking his hands, I pressed them between my own, feeling the familiar touch of his hands, rough and tender at the same time. "I want a happy ending. Somehow."

  He snorted, a quick, disgusted sound. "Being one of them is a happy ending?"

  "Maybe it's not fairy tale-worthy, Rode, but I wouldn't be alone."

  "You weren't alone before." He curled his fingers around mine and drew me closer, holding my hands up to his chest. His heart beat steady, persistent, a reminder of every time I'd been this close to him.

  It wasn't enough. Lately, too much had come between us, and the situation made it all too easy to pick out the differences.

  "Yeah, I was. Even with you right next to me, I was alone." I sighed. I really didn't want to think about Aurelia right now, not when I had all this other crap to process. "Things have changed. You just haven't noticed. It's not your fault. Aurelia's kept you busy."

  I waved off his retort before he could start. "Whatever my ending is going to be, I have to believe I won't be alone. I don't want to fight anymore."

  I stood close enough to Rodrian to feel his breath on my face. He stared me down with a desperate look.

  "Oh, honey," he murmured. Tears welled, catching fire from the fleck of copper heat that smoldered in his eyes. "What did they do to you? You aren't the same."

  "I know," I whispered. "But I love you. That won't change, not even when you give up on me. I will love you, and Shy, and…But I can't fight nature. It's easier to let it run its course."

  "You're serious, aren't you? You're giving up."

  "Not giving up. Just. . .letting go. I'm so tired of fighting, Rode. So tired."

  "Let me take care of you." He ran his palms up my arms, drawing me in, breathing me in. I tried not to see the disappointment in his expression. "I used to love doing this. Just your scent was enough. Knowing you were close, that the possibility always existed that. . .You're not the same Sophie."

  There. He said it. He used to love. I guessed that implied past tense.

  I blinked rapidly and raised my hand up between us, turning the palm so the light licked across the slick scars. It was the same hand that once bore a faint scar from the first time he'd tasted me. That was so long ago.

  Now the imprint of Rodrian's bite was eclipsed by another's. "How could I be?"

  Before he could get angry again I stepped backwards, breaking his hold on my arms, and blinked away the sting of disappointment before it could manifest into tears. "I would sti
ll love you, even if you changed. I've proven that change in physical form can't change what I hold in my heart. Not even when Marek…"

  I pressed my lips together, unwilling to speak the words in front of Dierk. Some things were too private. Nobody understood that, despite the Weres and the attempts and the Aurelias and Cacilias, I still walked around each and every day with a black hole where my heart used to be. Light and hope circled and drained before they could take hold of me, and nothing but grief filled the event horizon. I felt like that every damned day, and I had to seize the tiny joys wherever I could find them just so I could claim I still existed.

  Guessed Rodrian wouldn't be one of those joys for me anymore. "I'm sorry that you have to decide whether you feel the same for me."

  Rodrian's gaze shifted, the copper glints hardening into cold steel. "I will never forgive you, Adeluf."

  Dierk exhaled through his nose, a sound of resignation. "You will never know me, Thurzo. You will never see me for who I really am. I cannot expect you to open your heart when you won't even open your eyes."

  "Rode, try to understand." I raised clasped hands to my mouth, begging. "For me."

  His eyes had turned to stone, dull and dead. Something vital had been extinguished. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

  I took a deep breath, praying for forgiveness, because I knew I killed something in him. God help me. I had hurt my best friend. I'd dealt a mortal blow to the tender ties that kept us from being alone in this world and I did it because I thought it was the best thing to do.

  I looked from him, to Dierk, and back to him. "None of us do."

  "Olberich, have Stohl bring Alise back in. We need to get in front of this." Dierk brushed his hands together. "Unless we still need to discuss the obvious? No? Good."

  Just before Olberich closed the door, Dierk stopped him. "Wait. We will wait for her in the other room."

  "Why? It's not as secure."

  "But I am tired," Dierk said archly. "I wish to sit."

  Hmph. He just wanted his fancy chair. Kings were so pompous sometimes.

  The conference room seemed so empty, now that the Weres had all been cleared. Only part of Dierk's entourage had been retained. Thankfully, it was the security part and not the Cacilia part. The two guards who had stood at the doors also remained, although the heraldic banners were gone.

  Instead, they both had forced a partial change—clawed hands, a bunching of the brows that dehumanized their faces just enough to be unsettling. I tried not to look at them any more than I absolutely had to. Instead, I focused on Alise.

  The black-haired witch stood alone in the center of the room. Her upper arm was still smarting red from Stohl's grip. She was sullen and resentful, her jaw jutting like a grounded fourteen-year-old.

  Once she was brought in, Dierk came in from the back room. He marched over to his special chair and seated himself. "Let us discuss how we are going to cooperate."

  "Why should I help you?" Alise crossed her arms. "You were a jerk before."

  "I'm also a reasonable man," said Dierk. "You know she isn't ordinary."

  "Blatantly obvious." She glanced behind her, where Rodrian and the Demivamp six-pack lined the wall behind her.

  Dierk occupied the only chair in the room, and Stohl had moved into place behind his right shoulder. I'd drifted opposite to his left. It was automatic, and only after the three of us faced her from our new positions did Alise seem to realize that Dierk had pulled rank. Her eyes darted from face to face, mouth twitching into a straight line.

  Dierk steepled his fingers. "You also drew her blood without permission."

  "I—I didn't hurt her." Still, a wallop of defiance, although caution was seeping in. Caution, or self-preservation.

  Dierk's voice was like stone. "She is my mate."

  The young witch paled beneath her powder. "I didn't know."

  "It would make…quite an incident."

  She passed pale and went emo-white. "We wouldn't want that," she whispered.

  "I agree." Dierk half-smiled and leaned forward. "But incidents don't happen when people are silenced."

  A tight hum of panic started like a ringing in my ears. She was terrified, and I felt it. Seriously terrified. Her whole body tensed, arms drawn in, shoulders hunched.

  "Majesty." I used my gentlest tone, leaning to place my hand on his arm. "I'm sure she'll help us. Won't you, Alise?"

  "Yes." She swallowed and stood up straighter. "Of course."

  Dierk patted my hand without looking at me. "It would avoid incident."

  "And—and I'm sorry for what I did. I got carried away." She knelt, pleading with her eyes. "Please, Lady. I meant no harm. I was weak. I would not shame my Goddess again."

  I smiled, pouring benevolence into my voice. "I know. And perhaps we can help find what you seek. All I ask is that you help us find out what happened."

  "Of course. There is a question to be answered, and answers to be found. Of course, I can help."

  Fear had a funny way of helping people see reason. I smiled, hoping I looked sincere.

  Dierk only raised a hand. "Bring me the hotel manager. I require a conference table."

  Within minutes, a table was brought in and set up, and a young man in hotel uniform brought in refreshments, setting soft drinks and iced glasses at each seat. I was parched. All this getting attacked and playing wounded future-Queen stuff had made me very thirsty.

  When he came to Dierk, he set down two mugs of Darjeeling.

  I got one of the mugs. And a brownie. #WIN.

  Dierk sat across from Alise. I sat across from Rodrian, who wore his power like an egg shell—strong enough to conceal, thin enough to crack if need be. He alternatively stared at my mug or at the girl or at the ceiling. Anywhere but at me.

  I would have noticed if he did, because I didn't look at anyone else.

  I directed my first question to the center of the table. "Who uses magic?"

  "Witches, of course." Rodrian answered. I guess he'd noticed I was staring and felt pressured to answer. "Not DV; we have our own power. Were?"

  "Possible, but I can't see why." Dierk had his fingers laced before him. "Magic, per se, is anti-nature. Wolfenkinder are a part of the earth and wind. We have all the power in the world."

  I shook my head. "All that proves is that the DV and Were do not prefer magic, but can perhaps still use it. Who else, Alise? You said it wasn't ‘green enough to be Fey.'"

  "The Fey are ancient," she said. "They keep to themselves, preferring the green lands away from cities. They aren't human. They usually aren't even corporeal. So many stories and myths and lies about the Faerie make it difficult to know the truth anymore."

  "Fairy?" I tapped Dierk's foot with mine. "I thought you said they don't exist."

  "No, my dear. That was elves."

  "Elves?" Alise rolled her eyes and giggled. "You're kidding."

  Looked like I was the last in the room to know something. Again. I wagged a finger. "Don't even start."

  "Anyhoo… fey magic is a green strain." Alise started ticking off her fingers. "Demon is red. Hellfire is more than just a cliché, it's a stain."

  "Angel magic?" I hoped I wouldn't get harangued again.

  "Angels don't use magic. They are only messengers. God doesn't use magic, either; He has Will. Capital W, in case you missed it. Lesser divinities use magic because they don't have enough faithful to supply divine willpower. Other strains…orange, silver."

  "Black." Rodrian's voice was mild, but I caught the power behind it. Black made him nervous.

  "Yes, black." Alise nodded, her bangs waving like feathers. "But it's rare."

  "Black magic is rare?" I asked.

  "Not the same thing." Dierk interrupted. "The black strain is dragon magic."

  "Elves are fake, but dragons aren't." Really? Just really? I wished there was a way to bang my head off the wall without having to get up. I swore, these people lived only to make me look like an idiot.

  Rodrian finally looke
d at me. "The kind you are imagining are. Dragons are weather entities. Occasionally they manifest in other forms."

  "Orange is djinn. Silver is…" Alise trailed off. "Dead. Dead magic. Magic wielded by a non-living thing. It could be anything."

  "Well," I said. "What color did you see?"

  "There were two, but one faded as I watched. It was in pieces, I couldn't tell. I don't know any magic that does that—magic is stable and lingers. That one wasn't, I don't know. Right. See? That's why I had to know. That magic strain was an anomaly. The other…" She shook her head. "Blue. I'll swear it was blue."

  "Which is?" Dierk and Rodrian exchanged significant glances, and I caught a pulse of surprise from Rodrian.

  "Nothing is blue except the Sophia, and they're just a myth. Oh." She looked from me to the men and back. "That's it, isn't it? You're one of them?"

  She pushed back her chair. "Oh, my Goddess. Oh. Oh. You didn't tell me."

  I reached for my tea. "I didn't say a word."

  "You didn't have to. You have the eyes. You flashed at me when I said the word." She got up and began to pace, pressing fingers into her temples as if she had a headache. "I beg your forgiveness."

  "This is what I feared would happen." Dierk crossed his arms. "You wanted to know. Now you know. Now you know how important it is I feel that information is safe with you."

  She shook her head, dark spikes trembling like great plumes. "You shouldn't have kept that a secret. I—I can't go back—"

  "Why not?"

  "I pulled your blood. My Goddess will be displeased. I must go. I must—"

  Dierk reached out his hand. "Sit down. Alise, dear, relax. The Goddess knows all that you do."

  "Yes. She does." Her complexion took on a greyish tint. Poor kid looked like she wanted to throw up.

  "And she knows when you intend harm. Did you?"

  "No, I swear." Her eyes were anime-huge, liquid with tears. "I only wanted to know."

  "Then she knows. And if you genuinely want to help my mate, and not lead her to further harm, your goddess will know."

  She said nothing.

  Neither did Rodrian, who had shut himself off when Dierk called me his mate. He looked at me then, flat-eyed and thin-lipped. My insides crumpled.