by Bianca D'Arc
“I said I should apologize, not that I will. I’ll be damned if I’ll apologize for something that felt so good…so right. I’m only sorry if I hurt you, Megan.” He reached out with one hand to stroke her cheek as his gaze held hers. “Please tell me I didn’t hurt you.”
“No, you didn’t hurt me.” She was mesmerized by the tender yet militant light in his eyes. “Actually, I kind of enjoyed it. I’ve never been able to be myself with a man before. Whatever Duncan did to me let the wolf howl and she really liked it, but she—and I—liked it most with you.”
“You’re not a foursome kind of girl?” His lips quirked up on one side in a teasing, lopsided grin. His casual manner said without words that he’d seen and done a lot in his centuries. Somehow, that made her feel more comfortable about the whole evening.
“I’m afraid not. At least…” she teased right back, “…not on a regular basis.” She stepped closer to him, into his personal space. “I’m more of a one at a time kind of woman.”
“That’s good.” He trailed his hand through her long hair. “That’s real good, sweetheart, because I have a feeling we’re going to be doing a lot of one on one as soon as they let us out of here.”
“Do you think they will?” In a flash, worry returned. “I mean, do you think Heath will forgive me for poisoning him? And what will his daughter say? She’s the Mistress, right? So my punishment is up to her. Isn’t it?”
“Don’t worry,” Dante soothed her. “I think you more than made up for the tainted blood with what you did tonight. It’s not every woman who could nullify that kind of thing, even with Duncan’s help. We talked about it while you slept, and Duncan thinks it’s the purity of your heart that allowed the bespelled blood to be counteracted at all. That seemed to be proof enough for Heath, and he’ll square things with his daughter. They rule together, despite the title she wears.”
“I hope you’re right.” She chewed on her lower lip in worry.
Dante leaned down and did a little nibbling of his own, tempting her tongue out to play with his as he kissed the worry off her face.
Duncan came in a few minutes later and found them like that, locked in an embrace, mouth to mouth, Dante’s hands inside the open panels of the silk robe, cupping her breasts.
“Haven’t you had enough for one night?” He chastised them as he flopped down on the couch in full view of their activities. As Megan turned to look at the half-fey warrior, he winked, giving her an exaggerated once over as she pulled the robe together and retied the belt at her waist.
“How’s Heath?” Dante asked as he sank onto the overstuffed chair facing Duncan and pulled Megan onto his lap.
“He’ll be fine with a little rest. As will we all.”
Dante nodded. “Will you two be all right here today? They’ll no doubt lock us in, and I wouldn’t recommend trying to break out.” He tugged on her hand until she looked at him.
“I’ll be okay. I’ll probably sleep the day away and if not, there’s a television and some food in the kitchen to keep me occupied.”
“Good girl.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed each knuckle.
“I’m probably going to sleep this off most of the day,” Duncan warned. “I need to replenish.”
“Thank you for what you did to make it easier for me, Duncan,” she said in a low voice as she met his eyes. “I don’t think I could have done…that…without you.”
Duncan rose and came over to face her, lifting her to her feet, off Dante’s lap. “You’re a passionate woman, Megan. I’m not really sorry about what had to be done, only sorry there was no other way. I’ll remember your passion and generosity all my days.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek with a tender salute. “Thank you.”
He stepped away and headed for one of the bedrooms. Dante stood and led her to the doors on the other side of the sitting area.
“You’ll be all right?” he asked, holding her gaze.
She nodded. “I need sleep, then some sustenance. I’ll see you tonight.”
He kissed her deeply before claiming one of the rooms for himself.
Megan took the room beside his, taking time for a long, hot shower before collapsing bonelessly into the soft mattress and silk sheets. She didn’t know anything again until just an hour before dusk. She rose, showered again and dressed in clothes that someone had laid out for her. A designer tracksuit that fit her well enough, though it had been designed for a taller woman. No doubt it was one of the Mistress’s. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, she thought as she examined the rich fabric and eyed the size. She dressed and made her way into the kitchenette to see what she could scrounge for dinner.
Duncan joined her at the small dinner table just before sunset and shared her meal. Dante arrived in the sitting room as they finished eating, joining them in a glass of wine after their meal while they waited for Hugh to show.
He collected them only moments later. Hugh spared a small smile for Megan, and she felt like she was making progress melting the ice that surrounded the stoic man. He led them to a plush living room on the ground floor. Heathclif was there before them and poured drinks for everyone.
When everyone had been served, silence reigned for a moment as everyone present stared at her. She started to fidget.
“What now?” Megan was afraid of the answer but knew the time to pay the piper had come.
“Now it’s time for answers.” Dante touched her face, guiding her gently to the couch in the living room. Duncan and Heath followed behind.
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“Yes you will.” Duncan took the place next to her. “I’m giving you no choice, Megan. We must have the truth, and I’m going to bespell you to be certain we have it.”
Fear raced through her heart. “I’m were. Magic doesn’t work on me.”
“Some does,” Duncan assured her. “The poison in your blood is proof of that. The magic I plan to use on you is not of this realm. It will work. I’m sorry. It has to be this way. What you’ve done is sanctionable by death under the bloodletters’ laws. You need to tell them everything you know, and they need to be certain it is the truth. Only then might you be able to avoid the ultimate penalty.”
“Oh Goddess!” She shrank into the cushions, trying to avoid the spell Duncan was weaving. She could feel his magic rising around her, sparking off her exposed skin like static electricity. It grew in strength as tears gathered behind her eyes. She’d never been so frightened in all her life.
“This is interesting.” Duncan seemed to redouble his efforts. “She’s more resistant to my magic than any mortal I’ve ever encountered. Ah, so we finally discover another part of your heritage.” Duncan shifted closer and suddenly a door opened inside her. She was no longer in control. She was Duncan’s puppet, and she would do anything he asked.
The idea scared her to death, but she was powerless against his fey magic.
“Who was your intended target? Who were you sent to kill?”
“No one.” Her voice was raspy, as if her body fought every word. She felt compelled to speak by the force of his magic. “I don’t want to kill anyone.”
“You were sent here deliberately, were you not?” Duncan was relentless.
Slowly, she nodded. “I was sent to spy. Not to kill.”
The three men shared significant looks. “Who were you sent to spy on?”
“Dante.”
“What did your keepers want to know about him?”
“His habits, his friends, his allegiances. The usual stuff.”
“What else?” Duncan’s questions came like rapid fire.
“The mage. He wanted to know what happened to the mage.”
“Vabian?” Dante’s voice reached her from over Duncan’s shoulder.
“That was the name he said. Patrick Vabian. They lost him and want to know what happened.”
“Who sent you, Megan?” Duncan refocused her attention on him.
She felt as if she’d hit a brick wall. Duncan’s magic was c
ompelling, but there was something stronger at work inside her, preventing her from speaking. The pain caused by the two clashing compulsions made her writhe in agony.
“I can’t!” she cried as fire leaped along her veins, burning her from inside out. “Please!”
“All right.” Duncan backed off that line of questioning. “Let’s examine your intentions. When you approached Dante in that nightclub, what was your intent?”
“To watch him. To see if I could get close to him.”
“So you could spy on him?”
“Yes.” The pain of conflict had eased, yet Duncan’s compulsion held strong.
“Did your keeper tell you to sleep with him?”
Anger boiled inside along with Duncan’s magic. “I refused. I told him I wouldn’t whore for anyone, and I meant it.”
“What was your keeper’s response?”
“He told me to offer my blood. He said shifter blood was a delicacy to vampires.”
A significant look passed between the three men.
“And what did you think of that?”
“I didn’t like it, but I didn’t see any alternative.”
“Why? What compels you to do what they say?”
“The obligation. I’m the last of my line. I must finish the task and clear my family’s name.”
“The mark you carry on your thigh. Is that the mark of your family’s obligation?”
“Yes.”
“And the obligation is to the Altor Custodis?”
“Yes.” The answer felt like it was being ripped from her as the counter-magic rose once more, preventing her from speaking about her keeper. Duncan must have seen her discomfort, for he changed his line of questioning again.
“What circumstance created the obligation and how long ago did it start?”
“The fire. The great fire. It was my ancestors’ fault. They trusted the wrong people. Made the wrong decisions. And people died. Innocent people. Chicago died.”
Dante gasped, but Duncan persisted with his questions.
“Which ancestors caused the obligation of your family to the Altor Custodis?”
“The last set of twins. The werelords.”
“And what was the year?”
“1871.”
“The Great Chicago Fire?” Heathclif asked from the side. She saw Dante nod, his face grim.
“What happened to your ancestors after the fire?” Duncan reclaimed her attention.
“They were disgraced. When their mistakes came to light, their people threw them out. My line was banished, sentenced to run alone until they could atone for their sins.”
“So how did the Altor Custodis become involved?”
“They approached the twins after. The Altor Custodis offered a way out—a way of atoning by working for them. Somehow, the debt never seemed to be repaid. They were my grandfathers, and they passed the mark of obligation to my mother. She passed it to me. I was told this mission would be my last for the Altor Custodis. After this, the obligation would be fulfilled and my family’s honor would finally be restored.”
Duncan sat back whistling under his breath. He seemed to regroup, collecting his thoughts before he continued the questioning.
“So what about the poison in your blood? Did you know about it before last night?”
“No!” The very idea of it made her shiver. “I didn’t know. It’s nothing I’ve done on purpose. You have to believe me. I don’t want to kill anyone. Not that way. Not ever. Poison is for the weak. It’s not the were way.” The tears in her eyes began to fall. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right, Megan, but we have to know what you know. We have to uncover the truth. Such magic workings aren’t easily performed on a were—even a half-were like you. Someone went to great pains to make you a carrier of something that would kill Dante.”
She began to cry in earnest and Duncan took pity on her, handing her a box of tissues that had been on the table beside him. He waited a few moments while she mopped her eyes and blew her nose before resuming his questions.
“Did your keeper work a spell over you at any time during the past year?”
“Not that I know of. He’s human—” She tried to say more, but the pain of warring magics inside her stopped her words.
“Well, it’s obvious he at least managed to put a compulsion on you not to speak of him.” Duncan shot the other men another significant look even as his expression hardened with determination. He tried another tack. “When in the presence of your keeper, did you ever eat or drink anything?”
She thought back. “I don’t see him often. We’ve never shared a meal. The last time I saw him, he offered me a drink. I thought it strange at the time. It was a sweet honey wine and it made me sneeze. I thought it was the flower smell of the honey that tickled my nose, but now that you ask, I remember the liquid tingled in my throat and sparkled faintly in the glass.”
“Silver dust?” Heath asked from the side. Duncan nodded at him and resumed his questioning.
“Were there any other times you ate or drank with him?”
“No. Just that once.”
“What is your opinion of him? Do you think he’s a good man?”
She hesitated. “He’s… Altor Custodis is supposed to be on the side of light. I…I was never sure if he was or not. He didn’t feel right to me, but it wasn’t my place to question. My mother introduced him to me. She told me to trust him. She told me it was the only way to redeem our family honor.”
“Your instincts said differently, did they not?”
Slowly, she nodded. “I don’t know why, but I never liked him. I never trusted him fully, and I didn’t like most of the missions he sent me on over the years.”
“What kind of missions?”
“Spying mostly. Or he’d send me as a messenger to places I didn’t like the feel of.”
“What did they feel like?”
“Slimy. Unclean… Evil.” Agony stabbed through her brain as memories of those places surfaced in her mind. She’d repressed those memories and now they were back in full force. She threw her head back against the couch, writhing in pain.
Duncan’s big hands cupped her cheeks, stilling her movement as he captured her gaze. “Be at ease, my lovely. Someone has done this to you. Listen to me, and I will free you. I’ll free your mind and unleash the memories he has hidden from you. Prepare yourself. This may be difficult at first.”
Duncan bore down on her with his power, his hands holding her as he loomed over her on the couch. His magic was awesome in its strength, overwhelming her senses and freeing her mind.
The pain of the returning memories was almost too much to bear. Duncan held her through it. He was her strength for those moments, and she knew he would not let her fall.
Suddenly, things that had been hidden from her clicked into place. She recalled with clarity the horrible places her keeper had sent her, and the horrible people he’d made her deal with, delivering messages and carrying them back. The memories made her feel physically ill. Megan clutched at her stomach as nausea threatened to overcome her.
Duncan’s hand soothed her brow, a tingle of his energy easing the pain in her gut.
“Whoever did this to you, he is a master mage.” Duncan sat on the couch, looking as drained as she felt. “And it was lucky in a way, that Heath felt the need to bite you first. The poison was keyed to Dante specifically, so it had a less violent effect on Heath. It probably would’ve killed Dante too rapidly for us to counter it.”
The compulsion to answer his questions was gone, replaced by a feeling of freedom and a return of memories she hadn’t realized were missing.
“Goddess!” She shuddered to think what had been done to her without her knowledge.
“You’re mostly free now, Megan. I’m sorry to say the compulsion against revealing your keeper’s identity may last until he is dead. I’m sorry. Some magics work that way and have very few counters in this realm.”
She looked over at Duncan, taking
in his pale face and faintly trembling hand. He’d given a lot of his strength to free her even this much. She reached out to him, touching his hand.
“Thank you, Duncan.”
“The poison in your blood will wear off slowly…unless we make further efforts to nullify it.” One eyebrow rose as he grinned, and she had a good idea of how they’d go about nullifying the magic. After what she’d been through the night before, she wasn’t sure she’d survive another round of sex magic. “It wouldn’t be a good idea for any of our fanged friends to partake of your blood again until we’re sure the poison is completely gone.”
“Agreed,” Heath was the first to say, though he smiled to soften his hasty words. He even reached out to pat her head, petting her like a favored puppy. “You’re a sweet temptation, my dear. All in all, though, I think we’re safer keeping you at arm’s length for now.”
She laughed, smiling up at him. “Believe me, I’m glad to be off the menu. I couldn’t go through another night like the one just past.”
Heath’s eyes went dark. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
“Oh!” She realized he’d taken her words as a complaint. “No, I meant I hated the idea that I’d hurt you. Despite being half-were, I’m averse to causing pain. Even when I’m furry, I don’t torment my prey. I’m more of a catch-and-release kind of girl.”
Heath seemed to take her words well, easing back in his chair and smiling kindly. There was knowledge in his eyes—intimate knowledge of her that made her heart thump in an unsteady rhythm.
“My daughter was to have met with you tonight, but I think it better to limit your knowledge of her until you are free of the mage’s taint. Under the circumstances, I think it’s safe to let you continue to roam our fair city. I’d like Dante to keep an eye on you and, of course, I don’t want you reporting to your Altor Custodis contact under any circumstances. Not yet.” His gaze turned sharp. “We may have a use for that connection later, but we will need time to prepare a battle plan.”
She didn’t like the sound of that last bit. Of course, it was a relief to hear he wasn’t going to put her to death for what she’d done. She knew she’d gotten off easy after what she’d almost done to Heath.