by Riley Storm
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snapped. “I am simply an accountant. I—” She had been about to tell Kvoss and the other assembled nobles—or whatever they thought of themselves—that she had been under the orders of the Queen, but a strange glance from Kaelyn quelled that last protest.
Her eyebrows narrowed. Was the Queen…pleading with her? Begging her not to speak, not to reveal that she’d already been in contact and had essentially ordered Haley to assist, or else she would lose her job? Why would she want her to refrain from saying that now?
Obviously, the queen was hiding things from the others in the court. House. Or, whatever the hell the right term was, she thought, angrily.
Of course. If the others found out that the Queen already knew about this, then she would be in a world of trouble as well. Her position must not be all that secure if she cannot simply overrule the others.
Haley wondered why she should aid the Queen if the Queen wasn’t willing to aid her? This was wrong on so many levels, but there was no way for her to protest, to reach out to the proper authorities. She still had a cell phone in her pocket but going for it now would result in them taking it away.
Her eyes strayed to the men standing just behind the Queen, and the blades they had strapped to their hips. Blades that, to her untrained eye at least, looked to be sharp and practical, not just for show.
The more she truly looked, the more Haley began noticing just how dangerous of a situation she was in. These men obviously took everything extremely seriously. The fact they hadn’t seemed to hesitate in taking her, a human, into custody, without pretending to be real law enforcement in any way, showed they simply didn’t care. They could get away with whatever they wanted. She had to be careful before things got worse.
“Very well,” the Queen said eventually, after deliberating the words. “The evidence has already been presented to me. I find I must agree. Guards, please take Miss Menard out. Keep in mind she is not to be harmed. Do I make myself clear?”
The two men on either side of her snapped to attention so fast she jerked in surprise. “Understood, my Queen.” One of them looked at her. “Miss Menard, follow me.”
It was a command, not a request.
Haley looked over at Kincaid, her eyes pleading with him to do something. The last thing she wanted was to be separated from him, taken to who knew where in a House the size of a castle, with hundreds of huge shapeshifters standing between her and freedom.
But she couldn’t see him, the cordon of guards blocking her view as she was led from the room. Although she’d not really maintained hope, the guards didn’t take her back down the main hallway to the car and set her free. Instead, they escorted her through a maze of hallways that quickly had her lost, until they descended several levels into an area where the walls were made of stone, and the warmth of the rooms above had faded several degrees.
Then they efficiently frisked her, removed her cell phone, purse and keys, before showing her into what could only be called a prison cell. Thick metal bars lined two of the walls, the front, and one side, with stone to her left and across the back. There was a small cot, an exposed toilet, and nothing more.
“Luxury living,” she said bitterly, sitting uneasily on the bed.
Until recently, her greatest fear had been screwing up so badly she’d lose House Ursa as a client. Her only client. With the reality of her situation sinking in, she knew things were now worse.
Much, much worse.
19
“Let her go,” he said, pushing aside the guards the instant Haley was out of the chamber.
They rushed to restrain him, and the Queen’s Guard stepped forward, hands on the hilts of their swords, but he wasn’t trying to attack. Kincaid simply did not wish to speak while surrounded by Kvoss’ thugs.
At first, he’d thought the men arresting him were soldiers, but after getting his initial anger under control, he’d realized they weren’t anything of the sort. Kirell knew him better than that; he’d probably refused to participate in this charade. So, Kvoss had used his own men. Though the position of Assassin suggested a sole operator, the truth was that a small group of shifters supported him. Aides, assistants, and backup. The latter was what formed his current prison detail.
The real question for him wasn’t who the men reported to, but who had perpetrated this charade? Which of the Title Holders had come forward with the evidence against him? How had they discovered it, he wondered? Or had they been fed the information straight from Canis itself?
“Not until we find out how much she knows,” Kvoss said calmly. “Once she divulges what information she knows and how she helped you, she will be free to go.”
Kincaid rolled his eyes. “Seriously? She doesn’t know anything.”
“So, you did it all your own?” Kvoss asked, leaning forward in his stone chair.
“I didn’t do anything, you dunderhead. I’m being framed. Isn’t that obvious?”
Kvoss shook his head. “No, I’m afraid it’s not.”
Gritting his teeth, Kincaid tried to remain cool. As much as he and Kvoss hated each other, he truly doubted the Assassin was a traitor. The man was just as loyal to House Ursa. Unlike Kincaid, however, he had allowed his feelings on the other man to cloud his judgment.
Kincaid knew how that felt, because he knew, on some level, he was doing the same thing with Haley. He was letting his feelings toward her cloud his judgment on how involved he let her get in the case, a fact that had just been starkly pointed out to him when she was taken from the Throne Room and likely tossed into a jail cell if Kvoss had any say in it. The Assassin wasn’t one for diplomatic niceties either.
It rankled Kincaid, knowing that the fault for her involvement lay squarely on his shoulders. He should have dropped her off at the office and come back to report on his own. A simple phone call would have done the trick too, though he preferred to speak in person.
Not that he could bring any of that up now, however, not without implicating the Queen. None of them seemed to know that she’d let him go after being told of the money in his account, though he was sure some could draw conclusions between Haley’s appearance several days earlier, and the goings-on now. Still, none of them had been around to hear Haley say his name, so the Queen was safe. Sort of.
While his own fate was very much up in the air, if the Queen remained on the throne, he could rest easier, knowing she would see to Haley’s safety. That was his first priority right now, getting her out of House Ursa safe and unharmed.
“Well, it should be,” he said, turning his attention back to Kvoss. “Anyone with half a brain could see it.”
In hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have insulted every Title Holder in Ursa who suspected him of being guilty. There were far better ways to explain things, ones that wouldn’t have worked against him. Unfortunately for Kincaid, he’d declined to choose them. Any of them.
“How do you explain then, the fact that you don’t seem surprised at these accusations? Neither you nor Miss Menard, in fact, was overly stunned. I might say that anyone with half a brain would consider that suspicious. Wouldn’t you, Kincaid?”
He gritted his teeth but didn’t say anything. Haley had warned him others would see it that way, that it was, perhaps, the more logical way of viewing it, but he’d been dismissive of just how convinced his opponents would be by those facts. Now, he was paying the price for not having a proper rebuttal in place to defend himself. Kvoss knew it too. He could see the victory on his face.
“I request to be allowed to interrogate the traitor. To discover who he is working with, and any additional traitors he may have inside House Ursa,” Kvoss said, leaning backward.
I’m going to wipe that smug smile off your face the second I’m free, you sonofabitch, Kincaid promised silently.
Kvoss kept smirking, clearly believing himself to be in the right.
The Queen seemed ready to deny the Assassin the request, but Kincaid did a quick headcount an
d knew she would be forced to acquiesce. Seven of the ten Title Holder positions were currently filled.
Kirell was the only one he was confident would vote against such a proposal. Kvoss and the Queen would essentially abstain. Kive, the Priest, was a friend of Kvoss, and thus would cancel out Kirell’s vote. The Reaver, Magi, and Herald would see no reason to object to Kvoss’ request.
Being in Europe for the past decade, Kincaid had not been present to make any friends with those currently in power. As it turned out, staying off the grid also meant he lacked allies in the political arena. He’d been more than content with that fact, but the changing landscape of House Ursa thanks to the uprising, meant it was now working against him. Kincaid had never expected to need allies, but now he fervently wished he’d at least made some attempt to cultivate friendships.
“It is decided,” the Queen said after a quick headcount. “Kvoss, see what you can find. However,” she added sternly, her iron stare landing on the Assassin. “Keep in mind that while perhaps unlikely, it is possible Kincaid is telling the truth. If we find that to be the case, I expect him to be in a condition to resume his duties after you finish questioning him. Am I understood?”
Kincaid tried not to let his gratitude show. The Queen wasn’t overstepping her boundaries at all. She was the Queen after all, but her position as head of House Ursa was still fragile, and Kincaid knew she did not have many allies among the Title Holders either. Holding back Kvoss would cost her some support in that matter. He hoped it wouldn’t be too much.
Kvoss met the Queen’s gaze, held it for a moment, then nodded. “Very well.” He pointed to the guards and they snatched him by the arms and started dragging him from the room.
“I can walk,” he snarled, ripping himself free. The guards all turned to face them and Kincaid met them with a sneer. Any two of them, he would bet on being able to take. Their only advantage was in numbers, and he intended to drill that fact home.
“Let him walk,” Kvoss said, approaching the group.
They left the Throne Room behind, heading down into the bowels of Ursidae Manor, to one of the interrogation rooms in the prison section. One of the guards opened the door and Kincaid walked inside, holding himself up proudly.
Something hit him in the back and he flew forward, slamming hard into the stone wall.
“What the fuck?” he snarled, but someone—most likely Kvoss—had followed him inside, landing two quick blows to his exposed kidneys without reprieve.
Kincaid dropped to his knees, receiving a kick to the side.
“Traitorous piece of shit,” Kvoss hissed, hauling him to his feet by his neck and hammering a right hook into his stomach.
Air fled from Kincaid’s lungs and he gasped, trying to suck in a breath for a witty retort, but Kvoss kept hitting him, keeping him off balance. Eventually, the Assassin had had his share of petty violence and stepped back, giving Kincaid time to recover.
“I should have known you wouldn’t opt for a fair fight.” He spat, blood spattering the nearby floor. “Too afraid you’d lose in a standup bout.”
“Stand up then,” Kvoss challenged. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“So you can claim I was resisting and trying to escape? No thanks. Ask your questions.”
“Why did you do it?”
Kincaid groaned. “Really? That’s what you’re leading with? I didn’t do anything, you moron. I noticed the extra money in my account and went to Haley, to ask where it came from. We were looking into it, trying to figure out what was up. We came back to talk to the Queen about it, and you arrested us.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Of course not. Why would I ever expect you to believe the truth? You’ve had it in for me for ages, and you’re going to use this to finally extract your ‘grand revenge’ or whatever you’ve been calling it. Any proof I have of my innocence, you’d claim as being doctored, fake news. This is personal for you.” He sat back against the wall.
“Well, if you aren’t going to answer truthfully yet, I suppose I’ll have to keep working on you until you do.”
Kincaid lifted a hand and motioned the other man forward. “Well, come on then. Let’s get it over with. Do your worst.”
He later regretted those last words.
20
The sound of the cell door clanging shut snapped her out of the restless sleep she’d eventually managed to find.
“What? What is it now?” she asked, sitting up, rubbing her eyes blearily.
But there was no one in her cell.
Looking around, she scanned the floor in case someone had dropped her food, but there was nothing present. “Was I hearing things?” she asked aloud, suddenly feeling vulnerable from the silence.
The groan from the cell next to her was so quiet, she almost didn’t hear it. “Hello?” she called from her bed on the far side of the cell—although bed was a generous description for a thin mattress laid out over a concrete slab with a blanket on top. At least it was plenty big enough for her.
Whoever it was groaned again, very obviously in a lot of discomfort. Though they didn’t say any words, she thought she recognized the person behind the noise.
“Kincaid?” she called quietly, getting out of bed and moving to the bars that separated her cell from the next.
They were spaced widely apart, the entire place built to scale for someone Kincaid’s size, and not hers. A smaller human could probably have fit through the bars. As it was, Haley could almost get her head through them. If she really tried, she might be able to force her way through, though it was unlikely.
“Hi,” came the reply from the figure crumpled up on the floor. “Sorry if I woke you.”
She almost laughed at his attempts to cover up the pain he was in with humor. It hurt more deeply than she’d expected to see him treated this way. Anger bloomed in her, a fire she’d not felt before.
“You won’t get away with doing this!” she shouted at the cell door.
“Shh. Please, it was nothing.”
“Nothing?” she exclaimed. The lights were dim, but bright enough that she could make out his battered and bruised body. His shirt was a mess and she could see dark stains on it and on his skin, that had to be dried blood. “They beat the shit out of you.”
“Thanks. I really needed a reminder of that.” Kincaid finally sat up.
Gasping at the site of his thoroughly beaten face, she reached out through the bars to grasp his hand. What doing this would accomplish, she couldn’t say, but it just felt right, like he needed her, needed her support, and she was going to provide it. He dragged himself closer to the bars, and she rested her hand on his shoulder, stroking it gently while he sat hunched over, arms crossed over his head.
Haley hated seeing him like that. Kincaid had been working so hard to clear his name, to prove he was innocent. The strength and conviction of his efforts had gone a long way toward keeping her opinion neutral, if not landing her a little on his side of the fence. He hadn’t really gotten angry over it and was determined to expose whatever was going on—even if that damned him further.
To see them treat him like this bothered her deeply. This wasn’t how someone should be treated, human or shifter. The captors were afraid of being mistreated by humans, but it was clear they did the same to themselves. They couldn’t even give him a chance to prove himself. Instead, they just beat the shit out of him and tossed him in a cell.
“Why did they do this to you?” she asked, curious what the rationale would be.
“Personal vendetta,” he admitted. “Kvoss hates me.”
“Yes, but why?”
“He and the former King were very close. He took offense to the way I challenged him about the old-fashioned nature of how the House was run shortly after the King came to power.”
“And how long ago was that?”
“Twelve years,” Kincaid answered.
“He’s hated you for that for twelve years?”
“Oh no, much
longer than that.” Despite the obvious pain in his voice, she thought she detected some humor entering it as well.
“Do I dare ask why?” She was wincing in preparation for the answer before she finished asking the question.
“Promise not to get mad?”
“No. But if it happened that long ago, why would I?”
“Uh.” Kincaid fell silent.
“So, are you going to tell me?”
“Maybe I shouldn’t.”
“Oh please. I’m sure I can handle whatever it is without getting mad.”
Why would she get mad? Haley hadn’t known either of them until days ago. Before that, they were simply folders in her filing cabinet and names on a screen. Nothing more. What was with the sudden hesitation?
“I slept with his sister when we were younger.”
“Oh. That’s it?”
“All three of them. After he told me not to.”
Haley couldn’t help herself. She laughed. A lot. It was cathartic. While she—strangely enough—didn’t enjoy hearing about his past sexual activities, it was all decades ago. She wasn’t sure how old Kincaid was exactly, but he was in his late thirties at least—and everyone was entitled to their own pleasure.
“No wonder he hates you,” she said when she calmed down. “Did you do it out of spite?”
Kincaid shrugged. “Not the first one. We were teenagers, puberty, etc., etc. Then he got really pissy about it. The other two were older, but I made it a mission. He was just mad that he kept getting turned down by women because he was a creep. Personally, I think at least one of the older ones did it to piss him off as well, but I never asked.”
She laughed again, quieter this time. “Wow. And I guess he holds grudges real well.”
“Yeah, I didn’t factor that in at the time.”