by Kita Bell
When they reached Brand’s rooms, Eva turned. Her fingers twined with his, and she had been laughing…but now she became serious. “So you never slept with her. With Lis. She was Khael’s amati, not yours.” Her silver eyes narrowed, boring into his.
Brand arched his brows, amused and discomfited by her use of the word. “Lis was my sister, Eva. Besides, there was only one male she ever wanted. Only one amati. And that was Khael.”
Only one amati, ever. Only one amati for me. Eva.
He needed to tell her. He should tell her.
Now.
But then Eva kissed Brand on the lips, and he lost the words. They stayed inside for the rest of the afternoon.
The wind blew down the abandoned street, scattering a bitter dusting of cold snow before it into the empty darkness of a dark alley before sliding around the figure standing there. His gloved hands were settled into the long folds of a leather trench coat, his chin dipped into the collar. The moonlight glinted on metal, revealing the edge of a long sword just beneath the coat, ready for use, as the figure watched the business entrance of the building across the street.
Supplies were being unloaded into the back of the large truck parked behind it. The workers had been at it for over an hour.
A faint buzz caught his ear. It was an annoying sound, like the hum of a mosquito or a wasp, but completely out of season for the winter climate. The left side of the man’s lips twitched, tightening into a barely perceptible irritation. He relaxed and pulled the phone from the left pocket of his coat. He studied the screen. After a second of debate, he accepted the call, and raised the phone to his ear, waiting.
There was a pause. Then: “Our mistress grows impatient,” an irritable male voice announced on the other end of the line. “She requires an update on your progress.”
Corin King settled his eyes on the small, dark grocery across the street and let the silence stretch just long enough to remind the male of his status. Of who he was speaking to. And of what King, as Strategoi, was capable of doing to a subordinate who addressed him in such a manner.
“Sir,” the male finally said, uncertainty entering his tone. “If you would be so kind as to grant an update on your business for our mistress…” the words dwindled. He sounded nervous.
Good.
“I am following a lead on the female and her accomplices,” the Strategoi said indifferently. “I will have them soon.”
The male cleared his throat. He didn’t appear to know what to say. King fixed his gaze across the alley and watched one of the Kaspian from the truck joke with the grocer, before signing the clipboard. The other Kaspian were already in the truck, preparing to leave.
When they left, so would he.
“My lord…I’m afraid, but the mistress is very definite that she would request…”
The phone clattered. Rohe’s voice floated over the line, sneering, dark and seductive. King could almost smell her hyacinth-and-blood scent from where he stood in a frozen alley in Banff. “I make no requests. I command. Or do I need to remind you,” Rohe whispered to the man on the other end of the line, “the meaning of command?”
The scrape of fingernails on flesh, a gurgling wheeze. King waited, unmoved and unmoving, for Rohe to resume the conversation.
“You killed my man in Minneapolis,” his mistress finally purred as she returned to the phone, her tone taking on a coy, dangerous lilt. “I am displeased with you, my Strategoi.”
He didn’t bother to respond.
“Furthermore,” Rohe’s tone hardened, “I did not intend you to focus your hunt on just one of my pets. I ordered you to locate both. Yet you have not done that. You have misinterpreted my commands, and I disapprove of the choice you made, Strategoi. No matter how delicious the female might taste.”
King shifted his stance, the heavy leather coat sliding on his shoulders as he straightened in the alley. The truck was leaving. He noted the license plate then injected just enough cold amusement into his flat voice to infuriate his mistress. “My apologies. I had assumed you would have found him by now. The male was hardly a challenge. He would not have left the Asylum.”
There was a long, angry silence. Then: “You are certain of this?”
A flicker of real amusement, cold and unpracticed, sparked in King. His lips almost twitched. “My loyalty to you is behind bounds. But his loyalty is far stronger. Hate makes for a powerful leash, my lady, more binding than mere vows. He would no sooner abandon you than I. Though,” King scanned the alley, “in regard to your welfare, we may possess a difference of purpose.”
Corin King closed the phone on Rohe’s snarl and left.
Chapter 10
Brand called it “Stronghold’s bi-monthly dinner” but what Eva saw that evening, as she exited the hall and glanced down from the second story of Stronghold’s Nave, looked more like chaos.
“Eva! Over here!” Nikandria gestured toward a long table stacked with paper plates and plastic silverware, and when Eva got there, Joshua passed her a plate before leaning to steal the piece of chicken she was reaching for.
“Where’s Brand?” Joshua asked, taking a large bite. He leaned against the table and crossed his legs. “Slaving for Khael again? Or is it Gaviros this time? I’d guess Seth, but I think Brand has Seth running jobs for him right now.”
“He mentioned coordinating East Coast operations,” Eva muttered, reaching for a napkin.
“He’s trying to pinpoint Rohe’s resources,” Joshua said easily, finishing the chicken before reaching into the bucket to – again – steal the piece Eva was reaching for.
Eva raised her eyebrows. “You know, Nikandria gave you that plate for a reason.”
“She did. But I guess my momma just didn’t raise me right.” Joshua granted Eva a sharp grin, then looked over her shoulder, his expression turning genuinely warm. “Shiri. You look like a truck. What has Bryan been doing to you?”
“The usual,” said a heavily pregnant woman with curling chestnut hair. “And then some.” Her eyes latched onto Eva in amusement; they were pale blue and full of laughter, and Eva found herself pulled into a smile as the woman gave Joshua a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Now Shiri,” Joshua eyed her belly, “don’t do that. Otherwise Bryan will start to wonder about us.”
“Oh yes, Joshua,” Shiri said dryly, “I’ve been in love with you forever. I’ve just been waiting until I was pregnant with my third child and you decided to oh-so-romantically call me a ‘truck’ to make it official.”
Joshua snorted. “Now we can run off to Kansas and live in sin. Finally.”
“Only if you massage my ankles. If you do that, you can take me anywhere.”
“Joshua, if you so much as touch my amati’s ankles I will kill you,” said Bryan Ysperin in exasperation, coming up behind Shiri to wrap his arms around her. His hands settled protectively over her abdomen and Shiri slid her fingers down to rest on his wrists, then the two of them just stood, a small island of peace alongside the busy table. Something in their faces unsettled Eva. Their expressions were so open, so…contented. So happy. So…together.
Eva didn’t remember the last time she had felt that way.
Except lately – with Brand. Not always, but…sometimes.
When they made love. When she didn’t feel like he was hiding something.
Eva shifted her gaze, and found that Joshua was staring across the room through the frost-caught windows to the night outside, an oddly uncomfortable expression on his face. As if he felt as much of an outsider as she did. At least to what these two obviously shared.
But the longing in Joshua’s eyes was even more surprising.
His restless gray gaze settled on Eva, and his sandy brows rose sardonically. “What? You can have the last piece of chicken. I won’t take it. This time.”
“Hmm.” Eva pursed her lips. She opened her mouth to make an observation, but Shiri laughed and waived Bryan back before nipping between them to grab a pair of biscuits from the tray.
“Ah, okay. Thank you.” Eva’s eyes were drawn to Shiri’s belly despite herself. She battled the desire to touch it, the longing to feel the young blood tiger inside, and clenched her fingers behind her back. The last Kaspian pregnant in the Turner Gens had been her mother with Rainey, and Eva had no memory of it. Kaspian children were so rare, so precious, that – even though the hope that Eva would have children had been part of what trapped her in the Turner Gens – she still itched with the need to reach out and feel that life in Shiri’s belly. To feel the wonder of it.
Which would be incredibly rude. And a definite violation of Gens and family.
Shiri’s eyes darkened, and she tilted her head, a perceptive look on her face. She quirked her lips and gave Eva a meaningful glance. “You should sit with us. Fill your plate and bring Brand. The males can keep watch on El-Ai, and the two of us can talk.”
“She’s going to interrogate you, Eva,” Joshua warned, reaching for a biscuit on Shiri’s plate and getting swatted back. “Watch out for Shiri. She waddles up to you and pretends to be all sweet and helpless and fat, then she puts you through the wringer.”
Shiri snorted, ladling casserole onto her plate. “I’m pregnant not fat, lard-brain. And you and I need to discuss,” she pointed the spoon at Joshua, “Natasha Dagamis. I know for a fact Dmitrei slept with her when he was here. You need to warn him about how she operates.”
“Dagamis,” Joshua snarled, expression turning dark. “Like hell I’m going to get involved with those vipers, Shiri. Dmitrei can manage his own love life. I’m not his keeper. Why does everyone think I’m his keeper? Leave that to his brothers. He can’t kill them and the Dagamis bitches can’t fuck them over.”
“Dagamis bitches be damned. You’re the closest thing Dmitrei has to a friend, Joshua,” Shiri shot back at him as she turned to leave. “Dmitrei won’t listen to his family, but he might just listen to you. So bring that bucket of chicken and follow me so we can talk. Eva, Joshua and I will save a spot for you and Brand.”
“Fuck,” Joshua muttered, kneading the scars on his fist as he watched Shiri walk away. Then he turned to give Eva an irritable look. “Just so you know, before you go making any deep commitments to Brand. The Kades? They’re bloody exhausting. Make sure you take that into account before you decide to jump into bed with him the next time around.”
“Ah…okay.” Eva tried to control her guilty smile – and her blush – as she saw Brand coming through the side door on the upper interior balcony of the Nave. His dark blue eyes met hers through the shadows, and he smiled in turn, gaze flickering with gold and wicked promise. “Sure.” Her voice was breathy.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Joshua said darkly before following Shiri across the open room, bucket of chicken cradled in his arms.
Seth stepped from to block Brand’s path down the staircase. Below them, people gathered and laughed in the well-lit Nave, but where they stood it was all shadows and quiet. “It is your turn with mother tonight. Don’t forget.”
“I won’t,” Brand growled. “I never have.”
“I thought it best to remind you.” Seth followed Brand’s gaze over the balcony to the empty space at the far table beside Eva. There was worry in his brother’s blue eyes when they returned to Brand. “You haven’t told Eva that she is your amati. You need to, Brand. For your sanity and her safety. For the bond itself to work. Secrets have no place between the two of you – your control is shot and your decision-making is affected. From what Nikandria says, Eva has begun to feel the instinct too. If you don’t tell her soon, it might damage what you’re trying to build.”
Brand reigned in his exasperation. “None of your business, Seth.”
“That’s exactly what Khael told me seven hundred years ago. None of your business. I was a fool to listen to him. You’re my family. That makes it my business.”
Brand growled softly at his brother. “There are some things Eva isn’t ready to know, Seth. Not yet. She’s had to deal with enough without learning that we’re bound. That we could be bound.” First Eva’s Gens, then Rohe. No, Eva would hate learning that her freedom had been restricted. Even by him. Brand stared across the floor of the Nave; for once, the glossed books of the library failed to catch his attention. He forced his shoulders to relax as he admitted, “I don’t think she will react well when I tell her. I think…she will run. As happened with Khael and Lis.”
Seth gave Brand an almost sympathetic look, then straightened the cuffs on his shirt. “You, better than anybody, know that was different. Khael drove Lis to it, Brand. He couldn’t acknowledge their bond, and that is why she left.”
“He left her first,” Brand muttered, watching Eva laugh with Shiri across the room. “He couldn’t accept it, and so he left.” And Brand had gone with him.
“So you are casting Eva in the role of Khael?” Astonishment.
They both like their freedom, Brand thought, giving Seth a flat look, and from the flicker of understanding on his brother’s face, he knew that Seth had heard.
“Brand, Father would remind you if he were here that you and Eva share the bond. It doesn’t belong only to you, it belongs to her as well. No matter your nature, keeping secrets doesn’t work.” Seth’s sober gaze locked with Brand’s. “And answer this: how is what you are doing much different from what Khael did? He shut Lis out. With Eva, you are doing the same.”
The desire to tell Eva had been locked in Brand’s throat since he first realized the truth of what they were to each other. But it’s not that simple. Brand moved past Seth down the staircase.
“Thank you Dr. Phil,” he growled over his shoulder, ready to end their conversation. “But I’m not paying you for your advice.”
He had only taken three steps when Seth said, rather disgustedly, “I can tell Eva if you prefer.”
Brand froze, gripping the mahogany banister.
“Or,” Seth continued, his tone becoming a quiet threat, “I am sure Nikandria would oblige. Though I believe Eva would wish to learn about this from her amati.”
Brand spun, curling his lip at Seth as possessive fury spiraled through him. He dug his claws into the banister. Wood splintered, chipping up from the polished surface and Seth’s eyes flickered.
“I will tell Eva,” Brand gritted, holding his brother’s gaze, “when the time is right. Not you. No one else. And not before then. You will not interfere.”
He wouldn’t risk losing her. He wouldn’t risk losing the bond.
He had to wait until she was ready. Until she cared.
Seth frowned. His sharply pressed shirt gleamed in the moonlight coming through the skylight above, his figure stark against the white carpet. “So you say, Brand. But you are already too much like Khael. And I won’t watch you repeat his mistakes. I will not watch another of my brothers go through that, not again. Make sure you tell Eva before it is too late.”
“Is that a challenge?” Brand’s jaw clenched in disbelief and more than a little anger.
Seth’s nostrils flared, his eyes turning as cold as the winter sky outside. “I can beat you any day of the week, little brother, your position notwithstanding. But I won’t fight you today. Not in this room. Not when there are family waiting for us below-stairs, waiting and celebrating. And I certainly will not fight you before you take your turn with mother. You only need to bleed once tonight.”
Brand snarled and turned his back on Seth, stalking down the stairs. He tried to work the tension from his shoulders, the tightness from his neck.
– Tell her– Seth’s telepathic voice drifted into Brand’s mind. – Tell your amati. Tell her tonight. On your own terms, before she learns otherwise –
Brand growled deep in his throat. Not u
ntil she is ready, he threw back, directing all his frustration and rage at Seth’s telepathic voice.
He had no way of knowing whether his brother heard or not.
“No, she’s going to pick tall, dark and handsome,” argued Eva as she leaned back into the couch with a bowl of popcorn in the lounge of the Nave. She had Brand’s spare cell phone on the table, waiting for Rainey’s return call. “He’s the only one who’s not a complete idiot.”
Alexia, a golden-haired blood tiger Shiri had introduced, laughed and disagreed; the small group had split off after dinner to watch TV. Brand had kissed Eva’s cheek and promised he would find her; Eva left the Nave with the uncomfortable sensation that he and Seth and the silver-haired Gaviros would be discussing Rohe.
Or her.
Eva frowned. She hadn’t met Gaviros, not really – but he unsettled her. Perhaps it was what Brand had told her about him. Or maybe it was that while he looked so young, everything else about him seemed…ancient. It’s probably that he looks like Samuel but wears a pirate’s eye patch. Any other man would have looked ridiculous with an eye patch, but Gaviros just looked more intimidating.
“No,” Nikandria said, bringing Eva back to the present, “she’ll pick the blonde one. John. He adores her.” Brand’s sister was studying the TV like she was trying to dissect atoms for a high school science fair.
Alexia snorted. “He adores the TV camera more.”
“Whatever.” Nikandria rolled her eyes and settled back into the couch. “My money is still on John. All fifty bucks.”
“You’re ability doesn’t work on TV people,” Shiri grinned as he stroked a hand through her young daughter’s hair; El-Ai was draped against her mother on the couch. “My money is also on Eva’s tall, dark and handsome. Sorry, Ria. I’ll see your bet – and raise it by ten.”
Nikandria mock sighed, and turned to Eva. “They never believe me. I’m always right, but they never believe me.”
“We never believe you because you’ve been wrong the past five episodes,” Alexia said, gaze narrowing on the screen. “And both of you are wrong. She’s going to pick the lawyer. She’s greedy and thinks he’s rich.”