Slade

by Bianca D'Arc

  Something was definitely being communicated, and Kate had a sinking feeling she knew what it was. Somehow, the were noses seemed to be able to tell they’d spent most of the night and a good chunk of the morning, fucking like bunnies. She’d taken a shower. Two showers. But apparently the soap and water hadn’t done much to remove his scent from her skin. She wondered if they could smell Steve on her too and what they must think of that.

  Blushing, she took a seat next to Slade. He didn’t seem in a mood to let her stray too far from his side. While that might annoy her at any other time, she was still feeling rosy and warm from the night—and adventurous morning—they’d spent together. Her affection toward him was growing out of all proportion and her heart wanted to be right where she was. Next to him. Able to reach over and touch him or just lean a little to cause the not-too-innocent rubbing of his leg or arm against hers.

  He seemed to feel the same. At least, he seemed to be doing his share of leaning and outright touching. He wasn’t grabby or annoying, but his subtle touches made her very aware of him. So much so that she was having a little trouble focusing on what was going on.

  Everyone had gathered in the living room, including Steve, who spared her a little wink, but nothing more overt than that, thank goodness. When Grif walked in, she schooled herself to calm down and listen to him. Things in the Clan were too serious right now to screw around, even if she just wanted to bask for a bit longer in the amazing man she’d discovered only yesterday.

  Had it really been only yesterday? The thought made her blush as Grif sat down and began speaking. She wouldn’t examine how easy she’d been for Slade. Thankfully there were more important matters to devote her energy to at the moment. Still, if this all ended badly, she only had herself and her eagerness to jump into bed with the sexy newcomer to blame.

  On that somewhat depressing note, she turned her full attention to the Clan Alpha.

  “The prisoner finally woke up around seven this morning,” Grif began. “His name is Ethan Abrahamson. He admits he’s been running with the Venifucus for a while. Before that, he was an Altor Custodis watcher.”

  Kate had heard the terms before. Both were ancient societies, but they had very different goals. The Venifucus were evil. Hundreds of years ago they had been led by a power hungry sorceress named Elspeth, known as the Destoyer of Worlds. She’d been banished—after a long and hard-fought battle—to the farthest realms. Among priestesses it was believed that Elspeth was of fey origin. That, along with her vast power, made her much more difficult to kill. Which was why she had been banished rather than ended for all time.

  That was also why the Venifucus who had resurfaced in recent months, were intent on bringing her back to this mortal realm. All those who served the Light were working to keep that from happening. If Elspeth returned to this world, the damage would be incalculable. Death and destruction the likes of which hadn’t been seen since ancient times. Frankly, Kate wasn’t sure the modern world would survive.

  The Altor Custodis, by contrast, had been organized to keep tabs on Others of all kinds. They were rumored to keep detailed family trees and histories of shifters of every kind and their agents kept tabs on vampires, noting where they were and what they were doing over the centuries they could exist. The AC watched magic users too, Kate had heard, though she wasn’t very up to date on the organization. What little she knew about them had been gleaned from conversation with some of her teachers.

  Both groups kept exceedingly low profiles and it was hard to know what was truth and what was fiction regarding them. Only in recent months had certain groups of Others had contact with either of the ancient societies. The Venifucus had been active in trying to kill Allie, the new mate of the were Lords. And it had been discovered that the Altor Custodis had been infiltrated by Venifucus moles who were using their extensive records to very bad ends. If the former mage who had participated in the murder of the matriarch was part of either organization this whole mess had just gotten even more complicated.

  “He claims that his partner talked him into going rogue,” Grif went on. “According to Abrahamson, the murder of my mother was an independent action that was neither encouraged nor sanctioned by the Venifucus. He claimed the organization didn’t even know about it, which I find hard to believe.” The cougar Alpha ran one hand through his sandy hair in agitation. “I confess, I find it hard to talk to the man. He seems like an empty shell now, and willing to spill his guts, but I just can’t gauge his level of honesty. Plus, I want to rip his throat out every time I realize what he did to my mother.”

  Grim faces nodded all around. Kate thought she knew how hard this was for Grif, especially. As an unmated male, acting as Alpha to a large group of shifters, he had shared that heavy responsibility with his mother. She had helped him lead their people and had been well loved by all. He’d lost his guiding light. His mother. His helper in the day-to-day running of such a large Clan and construction empire.

  She knew he didn’t like the word, but Redstone Construction was really becoming an empire of sorts—both business-wise and in the shifter hierarchy. Very few other places in the world had so many shifters of different kinds come together under one man’s leadership. Few men were capable of inspiring such a thing. But Grif was that kind of leader. And his mother had helped—in particular, with the females and mates of those who worked for Grif. She would be sorely missed. And if Grif ever found a mate, that woman would have big shoes to fill.

  “I can’t blame you for that,” Slade said in a calm voice, drawing all eyes to him. “With your permission, I’d like to talk to him. And if the priestess would consent…” Slade smiled at her and she felt the warmth of his expression. “There are certain magics that can be applied. We’ll know if he’s telling the truth.”

  Slade’s gaze went back to Grif, and Kate had to admire the way he handled the situation. It would have been so easy to stir the hornet’s nest that was ready to erupt with the slightest miscalculation. Slade seemed to know just what to say and what tone to use. He knew how to handle people.

  “I’d be obliged,” Grif answered shortly, relief on his features. “We have some regular business to discuss. If you can talk to the man now, perhaps you can report back before we break for lunch. We’ve put our lives and our business on hold for now but there are certain projects and commitments we need to deal with even during this tragic time.”

  Taking that as dismissal, Kate stood with Slade. Valerie waited at the archway into the living room and smiled as they approached.

  “What’s in the bag?” Valerie asked immediately, her eyes glued to the disposable plastic shopping bag Kate held at her side.

  “Something I’m not prepared to deal with at the moment. We took an artifact from Abrahamson’s home,” Kate explained to the witch. “It needs to be kept safe until we can figure out how to neutralize it.”

  “Yeah,” Valerie agreed, gulping as she redirected them to another room upstairs. “Keith will know where to put it. Grif gave him the keys to the kingdom.” Valerie’s eyes were wide and focused on the bag in a fearful way as they made their way into a side room that was set up as an office.

  Keith was at the computer, but stood quickly when they entered. His eyes went to the bag as well. It seemed both mates were very sensitive to dark magic, which was reassuring. None of the other shifters had noticed the energy swirling around the plain plastic bag. At least with Valerie and Keith stationed in the house, someone would be aware if anyone tried to take the chalice.

  “Have you got a safe place to put this?” Kate lifted the bag by the handles, noting Keith’s wary expression.

  “What is it?” Keith seemed duly appalled by the evil power the chalice was putting off.

  “A chalice stained with blood. We took it from Abrahamson’s house,” Slade answered succinctly.

  “He was filling it with the vampire’s blood when we arrived. I think he was feeding it the blood of the familiars he stole too,” Kate added. It was clear f
rom their expressions that the couple shared her abhorrence of such an evil act.

  “Gross,” Valerie said in a shocked voice.

  “I can put it in one of the safes,” Keith said in a firm voice. “There’s one empty right now that’s buried partially in the ground. I think that’s probably the best place.” He reached for the bag and Kate gave it into his custody.

  “Mother Earth will help neutralize its evil,” Kate agreed, glad to be rid of it. She knew she would have to come back to it at some point in the future. It had to be dealt with eventually, but they didn’t have the time or energy to waste right now.

  “And we can put additional protective and camouflaging spells on it so nobody of bad intent can find it,” Valerie added helpfully.

  “That’s good enough for me,” Kate said, her spirits brightening the tiniest bit to have that burden off her shoulders for the moment. “Thanks.”

  They left Keith holding the bag—Kate snickered inwardly at that thought—and Valerie took them down to the basement. For the time being, they were keeping Ethan Abrahamson in the underground complex of rooms the Redstones had hidden beneath their home.

  Valerie introduced them to a shifter named Max who was stationed in the hallway outside a very plain looking door. Kate knew Max was one of the Alpha’s most trusted lieutenants. No doubt he was on guard duty. He opened the locked door for them, using a key he kept on a long chain around his neck. The chain, Kate observed, would probably stay around his neck regardless of what form he took.

  When the door opened, they saw Abrahamson lying fully-clothed, in bed, in what looked like a guest room. The room itself was a rather Spartan affair. Bed, table, chair, lamp, desk. That’s about all, though it had an attached bath and most notably—a door that locked from the outside. Interesting.

  If this was shifter jail, it wasn’t too bad by Geneva Convention standards. She might’ve expected a barred cage considering these people could turn into wild animals, but judging by this small, windowless suite, the Redstones didn’t go in for such extremes.

  When the door opened, Abrahamson sat up and swung his legs down over the side of the narrow bed. His expression was blank. His face pale in the extreme. He seemed dazed from what had happened the night before and a little…blank, was the best word she could come up with.

  Kate extended her magic and found not the faintest spark of magical energy left in Abrahamson. He’d been wiped clean by the Lady’s power. Kate had known it intellectually, but faced with the result of her actions last night in the cold light of day, she felt both justified and appalled.

  She knew she’d done the right thing. The man had been a monster. But he seemed so pathetic now.

  Perhaps that was his true punishment. To exist with the knowledge of Others. It had to hurt to realize that he had once had a large amount of personal magic, and to know it was all gone. Forever denied him because of his evil actions. A lifetime worth of regret and self-disgust. Would it make up for the horrors he had committed? Probably not, but it was a start.

  Kate sensed the shifters would have rather had a more permanent and bloody retribution on the man, but they needed to know what he could tell them. There was someone still out there who was potentially even worse than Ethan Abrahamson. And the sorceress who had been his partner in crime still had a piece of the matriarch’s pelt. She could not be allowed to keep it under any circumstances. Using it in some evil ceremony was out of the question. So much harm could be done to the Redstones and all who had come into contact with the matriarch over her many years… It was unthinkable.

  “I thought I imagined you.” The prisoner spoke out of the blue, startling Kate. He was looking right at her, no discernible expression on his pale face.

  “Nope. I’m real,” she answered, not knowing what else to say.

  “You sent the Light. It worked through you.” His eyes took on an eerie cast. Like someone who had gazed too long at the sun and seen the wisdom in its burning heart.

  “I did as I am called to do. I serve the Light,” she affirmed.

  “I didn’t.” His gaze dropped to his hands.

  “No, Ethan, you didn’t.” Slade entered the conversation, moving to stand at Kate’s side. “You killed a very important woman. She had many children and people who loved her. They want you dead.”

  Slade’s bald statement lay between them for a moment before Abrahamson looked up, meeting Slade’s eyes.

  “I don’t blame them. It was wrong. But I didn’t kill her. I helped, but I didn’t do the actual deed. That should count for something.”

  “That’s probably the only reason you’re still breathing,” Slade said in a calm tone. “Her sons want to rip you apart.”

  “I know.” No inflection. No emotion. Just the flat statement of knowledge.

  Kate was learning something important here. The result of what she had done to this guy was downright creepy.

  “You have no magic,” she stated, needing to be sure he understood simple concepts. “It will not ever come back. Not if you don’t embrace the Light. And even then, the Lady will judge you. She may or may not allow you to ever feel the tingle of magic again.”

  “I know that too,” Abrahamson answered quickly, shooting her a glance. “Probably a lot better than you.” Ah. There it was. Finally, a show of emotion.

  “We have some questions for you,” Slade put in, changing the topic and drawing Abrahamson’s gaze.

  “Ask away. I have nothing left to lose. I’ll answer what I can.”

  Slade glanced at her and nodded slightly. Kate drew on her magic and set up the protections that would tell her if Abrahamson was lying or evading.

  Kate’s magic lit the room with a golden glow to Slade’s sight. The feel of her power was something he’d always enjoy. It tingled along his senses like a caress. He took a moment to appreciate it before he set to work. With her help it would be comparatively easy to discover what the man knew, if anything, that could be of use to them.

  “Who killed the Redstone Clan matriarch?” Slade didn’t waste time. He got right to the heart of the matter.

  “Not me. I told you. I helped her get here and lure the old woman outside, but I didn’t do the actual deed.” Abrahamson’s tone was flat as he stared into the distance, but Kate’s magic revealed the truth in his words. So far, so good.

  “You participated in murder. That makes you as guilty as the one who did the actual killing,” Slade argued. “Now, tell me her name.”

  “Sh—” the man began, but something seemed to stop him. Dark magic reared up but Kate’s Light blocked it.

  “She put a geas on him,” Kate muttered. “Looks like it included a prohibition against speaking her name.”

  “It survived your purge?” Slade was surprised anything could withstand the strength of the Lady’s Light.

  “Apparently. I don’t think it was part of him, but instead, something put on him. It was probably passive until you asked him to speak the sorceress’s name. It’s her magic. Not his. Dormant until this moment.”

  “Can you break it?” Slade asked quickly, noting the changing, challenging magics flying all around.

  “I think I can keep it from killing him. More than that, I can’t promise,” she said, strain in her voice as she concentrated on her power.

  “Hold it, then,” Slade instructed, already looking for a way to break the hold of the sorceress’s spell on Abrahamson.

  He studied the wavering magical threads and realized they were just that—threads of power—leading back to Abrahamson’s heart. A hard enough tug, triggered by his attempts to speak the woman’s name, would probably kill him.

  But Slade was well equipped to cut such magical bindings.

  “Hold steady,” he advised Kate, never taking his eyes off the prisoner and the dark magical threads. “I’m going to try something.”

  He called on his own power and partially shifted one hand to its alternate form. Speckled fur covered his hand and long claws reached out from a large
paw.

  Kate didn’t seem to notice at first, so caught up in her own battle to hold the evil power at bay. When Slade reached out to claw through the ties of dark magic, she jumped a little, catching sight of his clawed hand. To her credit, her magic didn’t waver though he knew he’d surprised her.

  He cut through the magical ties quickly and Kate did her thing, redirecting the dark power into the cleansing earth beneath the basement. Transmuting it into simple energy and dispersing it. The sorceress’s spell was broken.

  Slade retracted his arm and shifted it back to a human hand. Kate watched with questions clear in her eyes, but this wasn’t the time or place. He’d revealed something just now that few people knew and even fewer understood. Kate had just witnessed one of his secrets and he was sure she had questions, which they’d get to in time. For now, they had a prisoner to finish interrogating.

  Personal discussion about the glowing white fur he’d revealed to her would come later. For the paw he’d used wasn’t from the black panther he usually showed the world when he shifted, but something much rarer. Something that was his alone. A birthright he didn’t dare claim very often.

  For alone among all these shifters, only Slade could take more than one alternate form. He showed the shifter world the black panther he claimed from his father’s line, but only very rarely did he let the supremely magical snowcat he had inherited from his great-grandmother come out to play.

  “The geas is gone. Broken and dispersed,” Kate reported with satisfaction in her voice after she’d had a moment to deal with the excess magic.

  Slade nodded at her and saw the questions she was repressing in her expression. They would talk. Later. For now, he had to get whatever information he could out of the prisoner.

  “We have the chalice,” Slade said conversationally, gauging the man’s responses both magically and mundanely. He had yet to establish a baseline from which to judge Abrahamson’s answers.

  “What about the vampire? Is she dead?” Abrahamson answered Slade’s question with one of his own. Cagey, Slade thought.