“I know.” He looked apologetic. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Sure,” she said, but the word wasn’t convincing even to her. “I think I just need to think for a while.”
He squeezed her hands, but she pulled away, folding her arms over her chest. She didn’t want magic powers, or to be hunted for a blood ritual. Right now, she didn’t want to be anything but human—she’d had enough of the supernatural to last her three lifetimes. Unfortunately, that wasn’t something she could say to a werewolf, especially not to one she loved. Lexie bowed her head, her hair shadowing her face.
“I need to go meet Sam,” he said, breaking the silence. “The Company is still banned from the city, but whether they’ll obey or not depends on what intel we put together. They aren’t content to hang back anymore.”
She picked up the conversational ball, glad of the distraction. “They found all that information on my father quickly.”
Faran was pulling on a sweatshirt. He paused, a considering look crossing his face before he finished tugging it down. “Are you sure you never got your informant’s name or saw his face?”
“No, but he said he was connected to the Company.”
“The thing is, no one I’ve talked to knows who he was. And I don’t know if the Company could have dug all that up on your dad so fast. Or that they would have known exactly where you were. I mean, down to your exact hiding spot?”
“What do you mean?” she asked uneasily. Maurice had found her hiding place as well and she didn’t think he was a vampire. “My guy said he was following Ambrose.”
“We didn’t know about Ambrose,” Faran said quietly. “If your guy’s with the Company, he’s been working on a highly classified file.”
My father’s file. “Are you saying I shouldn’t trust my mystery man?”
Faran shook his head. “I really don’t want to add to your worries, but I had to say something. Just be careful. You’re on the radar now. Stay inside and don’t use your phone. I’ll pick you up a new one while I’m gone.”
Lexie shrugged. “They can’t scare me with Justin messages now that I know what’s going on.”
“But they can track your signal.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek, as he picked up the car keys. “Embrace paranoia. It’s good for you.”
She stiffened, tired of fear and plots and feeling like a pawn in a game. “I’ve spent too much of my life being afraid.”
Faran’s mouth flattened. Clearly, he sensed her resistance. His eyes flashed amber, a sure sign his wolf was near the surface. “When I let you stay in this investigation, you promised to obey if I said duck.”
“Careful how you use the word obey.” Driven by fear, her tone came out sharper than she’d intended. “I’ll be smart, but I’m not your dog and I won’t be your prisoner.”
Faran inhaled as if she’d cut him. “That’s not what I’m asking for.”
But her words hung between them, festering in the air. Without moving a muscle, he seemed to inflate, going from standing to looming in moments. He reached out a hand, but his fingers flexed to a fist and he took a step away from her, as if he couldn’t guarantee what he might do. “You’re not a prisoner. You’re at risk. Yes, I want to lock you away and guard the door,” he said, his voice coming from somewhere deep in his chest. “I want to rip out the throat of anyone who comes near you. But I know you’ll hate me for it.”
The anger in his words made her shudder. He wasn’t completely human right then. “I know what you’ll do,” she said as calmly as she could manage. “I’ve seen you do it.”
And when she had, she’d left him—but neither of them dared to voice that punch line. Instead, it lurked in the shadows like a scrap of evil magic.
Banishing it required trust that their bond could survive if one of them made a mistake. He might let the wolf take over for a moment. She might run. They would have to forgive, pick up the pieces and carry on believing they’d do better the next time. Love was resilient enough that a bad day didn’t matter.
Lexie knew that. She also knew they weren’t there yet. She was balancing her past, the overwhelming present and any future she had with Faran—it felt like a precarious stack of precious china, and her nose was tickling for a sneeze. She could barely breathe.
Faran cleared his throat, seeming to calm himself back down to his usual size. She could tell it didn’t come easily. She’d met his wolf that night in bed. But exciting as that had been, she wasn’t in the mood to be dominated. Lexie craved a few hours alone. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ll see you in a couple of hours.” Faran spun on his heel and left, closing the door quietly behind him. Alone.
Alone was exile for a pack animal, even a lone wolf. Lexie sat down on the bed, wretched and guilty.
Lexie was left with the problem of how to run without actually running.
Her head was aching, her heart hurt and feeling woebegone wasn’t going to help a single thing. She needed to get a grip. But given the cramped quarters of her rooms, finding a fresh perspective on anything was impossible. Every time she looked at the door, she saw that wounded guard falling to the floor and the false Kyle striding in. Before long, her nerves were strained to the breaking point. She was claustrophobic, and whatever Faran said, there was no good reason to hide indoors if the villains had a habit of dropping in. She wasn’t any safer here.
After a half hour she gave up and went out for fresh air. Tourists were everywhere. The sun was bright, turning the first shoots of the season a tender green. If the weather stayed warm, there would be early flowers by the time the royal wedding took place on Valentine’s Day.
And despite everything, the ceremony was still on. As far as the public was concerned, everything at the palace was fine. Lexie couldn’t help but wonder what else went on all around the world that nobody knew about. The Company had its hands full. By extension, Faran and his fellow Horsemen always had missions to perform.
She strolled past the ornamental pond, relishing the sun on her shoulders and the soft quacking of the ducks. Where do I fit in this world-saving business? The question would have seemed ridiculous a week ago. Now, not so much. Wherever I can. Lexie could see herself working with Faran. The Night World was his world, and she wanted to be part of his life.
Although he has to get over this urge to protect me all the time. He’d been doing pretty well with it until the business with Ambrose—but to be fair, things were getting pretty bizarre. Speaking of which...
Lexie walked past the croquet lawn, where Maurice—resplendent in acid-green coveralls and cat’s-eye sunglasses—was being swarmed by press wanting to know the secrets of his special effects. She veered away, wanting to stay clear of that scene.
The maze was up ahead, the high, clipped yew hedges even more impressive in daylight than they had been last night. They stood a dozen feet tall, a solid mass of green except for the entrance, where a marble gate arched across the opening. Lexie paused. She could feel its power from where she stood, like an echo of her own essence.
Her feet were moving toward it before she realized what she was doing. Her first thought was to turn away. Mazes were meant to get one lost. But there were plenty of people on the walk, so she let herself approach.
The energy of the place prickled over her as lightly as snowflakes on bare skin. Maybe those who were only half fey couldn’t always handle their awakened powers, but this felt comforting as the sound of a voice long forgotten. She could be content just to feel this source of strength. As for her supposed invisibility trick—she hadn’t made up her mind. The idea of such abilities was interesting, maybe useful, but she’d lived this long without them and she had the feeling parlor tricks weren’t the point. Every instinct said this power was about being in harmony with the natural world around her.
She slowed to a stop just inside the yew hedge. She co
uld see the spreading branches of the old plane tree where she’d been with Faran last night, and her core heated at the memory. Around her, lawns and flower beds flowed beneath the intersecting hedges, early bulbs like spears of green against the dark soil. There had to be a touch of magic afoot, because winter was already fading inside the maze. The air was warm enough that she shed her jacket.
“A lovely place, isn’t it?”
She knew the voice before she turned her head. Ambrose. Alarm sang through her, but she refused to show it. She knew his game now, and had no intention of playing. “Is the weather here the work of the fey?” she asked calmly.
He met her reasonable tone with his own. “Older magic, actually. All spellwork—dark, light, sorcery or anything else you can name—is really just a method of harnessing what the earth has to give. We call this kind of place a source. They are all over the world. Stonehenge. Delphi. People still flock to leave their offerings, even if it is just the price of admission to look at a tourist attraction.”
Lexie swallowed, her throat tight and aching with apprehension. She felt trapped by her own stupidity, like the B-movie heroine who’d gone into the basement. And yet, she hadn’t been careless. She was in a public place, in plain view. There were plenty of people around, strolling in groups with their cameras and guidebooks in hand. I’m not helpless, and this is the perfect time to get some information.
“Why are you here?” she asked. “Not for the souvenir T-shirt, I suppose.”
She turned to study him, looking for something that marked him as more than human. She could see arrogance in his refined features, perhaps a faded beauty that would have awed the viewer once upon a time, but that was all. There was nothing—no pointed ears, no upswept brows, no fairy wings. Faran was right—the fey were impossible to distinguish from humans, at least at first glance.
He smiled, but it was only with his lips. “To work great magic, but you knew that. And maybe to share a few tidbits you might find of interest.”
“You want to instruct me like you did Justin? No thanks.” She took a step back, wanting airspace between them.
“Ah, Justin. I regret pushing him too young.” He waved a gloved hand as if flicking away a regret. “You, on the other hand, will miss the benefit of an early education. I would have hoped for a happy medium, but what can you do?”
Someone bumped her from behind, forcing her to stumble forward. Ambrose caught her, and then cold metal clamped around her wrist. The prickling of the magic stopped dead, as if someone had thrown a switch.
The sudden muffling confused Lexie for a moment. She jerked away, spinning to call out to the man who had bumped her, but he was gone. Something pulled at her arm, nearly putting her off balance. Lexie wheeled with a snarl worthy of Faran. She looked down at her arm, panic flaring in her chest. A band of plain dark metal cuffed her like a bracelet, and a chain stretched from the bracelet to Ambrose’s gloved hand.
She was caught. It had all happened in a split second.
“What is this?” she demanded, straining to yell, but it came out no more than a croak. Her voice was gone.
“Shh.” He pulled her close, tucking her arm under his to hide the shackle. “You won’t have time to learn much of your fey magic, but there will be room for a few object lessons.”
He began to walk, and her feet followed him. She strained to pull away, but no part of her body would obey her will.
“Now that your magic is awakened, Alexis, you will find some things have changed. For instance, you are completely at the mercy of cold iron.”
Chapter 26
Faran came back to the palace late, Sam in tow. The Company had decided to return to the city for the fireworks display. Their justification was that they weren’t coming as Company soldiers, but instead playing things low-key, arriving for the night’s celebration in twos and threes and dressed like any other member of the public. If nothing happened, they’d go home without so much as flashing a fang. If something did, they would be there to stop it.
But however they spun their story, they were disobeying orders—or at least bending the rules into pretzels. That hadn’t been an easy decision to make. Fierce argument had raged among the members of the Company, and no one could drag out a debate like a bunch of vampires who had the rest of eternity to make their point.
Faran unlocked the door to the rooms where he was staying with Lexie. He set Lexie’s replacement phone on the empty coffee table and blinked, realizing this was the first time he’d ever seen the table free of her junk. With dawning apprehension, he saw her cameras and computer were gone, too, as was the big duffel bag she carried them in. “I don’t remember Lexie mentioning a job this afternoon.”
“Are you sure she’s here at all?” Sam asked. “I only see your stuff.”
Faran glanced around to see it was true. Without a word, he stormed into the bedroom. All her clothes were gone, too, down to the last thong. For a long moment, Faran stood in front of the depleted closet, refusing to understand. “Where is she?”
Sam stood in the bedroom doorway, his face tight with grief. He might have said “On a plane” or “I told you so,” but Sam wasn’t that kind of man. Instead, it was his expression that said history was repeating itself and Lexie had walked out.
“Everything was going great,” Faran said, his voice coming from some other Faran who could still form words. “We had a bit of an argument this afternoon, but still...”
A slow pain was working its way up his gut, sprouting tendrils as it went. Of course she left. What did you expect? She had a perfectly happy human life and then she ran into you again and poof, she’s sucked into the freak show again. The voice kept going on and on until he slammed it down like a buzzing fly.
Sam shifted uneasily. “I can see you thinking. Keep your head in the game, Kenyon.”
“How do you know it’s not?” Faran snapped. He was feeling sick, as though he needed fresh air.
“I know that look. It has her name all over it.”
Setting his jaw, Faran pushed past Sam into the front room. Something didn’t make sense. She’d been talking about finding her father. Is that where she went? Had she gone to see her mother?
“Look,” said Sam, “she’s obviously left with all her things, which says to me she went under her own steam.”
“Damn her!” Faran swept most of the wine bar onto the floor. The bottles and glasses smashed with a satisfying cascade of glass and scarlet wine. His chest heaved, fighting chains of anger and grief. “Last time at least she left a note.”
Silence blanketed the room, broken only by wine glugging from a broken bottle. Faran felt as if he were shrinking, life leaving him atom by atom. It would make sense if she’d jumped ship again—he was still a werewolf, and she was still haunted by a past he was only beginning to understand. And yet, he believed she was stronger than she had been in Paris. He’d heard it in her voice. He’d felt it in their lovemaking. She was too fierce to run now.
“This isn’t right,” Faran said, his voice half-strangled. “She would say something, even just a couple of words.”
“What do you think happened?”
Faran swallowed hard. “Lexie’s in trouble. They just made it look like she left.”
“Okay,” Sam said, drawing himself to his full height, “then stopping the Five and their ceremony is the best way to make sure Lexie is safe. She was supposed to be part of it, right? If we find them, we find her.”
That at least made sense. Faran scrambled for some shred of reason, some mask to hide the eroding mess inside him. “Fine. Let’s end those freaks.”
* * *
It wasn’t exactly a dungeon, Lexie thought. The room didn’t have that much style. It looked more like a pantry with manacles.
She was chained to the wall, the long iron fetters giving her enough slack t
o slump on the floor. There was a covered bucket and a bottle of water and nothing else in the room except rows and rows of glass jam jars on the opposite wall, where she couldn’t reach. Half the jars were filled with what looked like thick-cut marmalade. Nothing like a homey touch. She crossed her legs, trying to get more comfortable. The chains rattled like Marley’s Ghost.
Has Faran noticed I’m gone yet? She thought of their disagreement that morning. That seemed utterly stupid now. She’d wanted time alone, which was fair, but now she wanted nothing more than to feel his strong body next to her.
Exasperated. Lexie banged the back of her head against the wall. This was just great. So she was to star in a Dark Fey ritual. Hopefully they needed all her blood and wouldn’t waste any on torture. Lexie’s stomach rolled with pent-up nerves.
The door rattled, making her jump. Her heart began to pound so hard she felt dizzy. Instinct made her curl up tight, wrapping her arms around her knees.
Ambrose entered, locking the door behind him again. “Ms. Haven.”
She didn’t bother to answer.
He pulled up a stool and sat down, resting his gloved hands on his knees. He’d been scrupulously careful never to touch her chains with his bare skin, and she wondered if the effect of iron was worse on full-blood fey.
“I do have a few questions I’d like to ask about the events of yesterday,” he said.
She closed her eyes, not wanting to see his face. “You asked me already.”
“And I will continue asking. What did your friend do after he chased my companion?”
“He came to find me.”
“Before that.”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there. Why don’t you use your magic to find out?”
“You’re half fey, more’s the pity. Any magic strong enough to sift through your mind would kill you in the bargain, and I need your heart beating to take your blood.” Ambrose leaned forward. “What did your friend tell you?”
Harlequin Nocturne May 2015 Box Set: Wolf HunterPossessed by a Wolf Page 49