by Holly Evans
“What is it?” I asked him, keeping my hands close to my body, not wanting to risk being too near it.
“A shadow bead,” he said, reaching down with a pencil to poke it.
The bead was about the size of my fingernail and rolled under the pencil’s probing to reveal an engraving.
“Won’t that engraving be unique to the church it came from?” I asked with a grin.
We had a lead! Alasdair nudged me gently with his shoulder and pulled out a small plastic bag which he put the bead into.
“Yes, it will. Well done, Niko.”
He held the bead up to the light and revealed the engraving to be a pair of circles sitting close together with a small chain joining them. I wrinkled my nose. Something about it set my teeth on edge. I stood and shook the feeling off. It had been used in the ritual that took the poor wolf’s life; of course I didn’t like it.
“Were the sigils as you expected?” I asked.
Alasdair pocketed the bead and frowned.
“No, there was a sigil here that had blurred in the photo. It links into chaos. Come and look, I’ll teach you.”
The calm left the moment he stepped away from me, leaving me torn. Did I want to be near the infuriating wolf to catch a break, or was encouraging him and his tactile nature too big of a price to pay for a little calm?
I remained a couple of steps away from him as he walked me around the ritual site, where I studiously looked away from Robert’s remains. The shadow sigils were formed of broad ribbons and soft curves, whereas the chaos ones were sharp and made of many thinner lines. The rest of the sigils were unusual designs that Alasdair didn’t recognise.
“So, what does this mean?” I asked.
Alasdair put his hands in the pockets of his pants and looked over the sigils once more, his back rigid and his expression one of deep thought.
“I’m not sure, but I suspect it’s far worse than we initially thought.”
Nineteen
Alasdair placed the bead down on Saoirse’s desk.
“Niko spotted this; you should be able to trace the engraving back to a church, shouldn’t you?”
Saoirse picked the bead up, still in the plastic bag, and inspected the engraving.
“Yes, I believe so. I will speak to some of my fellows and get back to you. I suggest you order yourselves some takeaway and head to bed, it’s been a trying day,” she said with a gentle smile.
My stomach growled. I hadn’t realised just how hungry I was.
Alasdair smiled at me. “Chinese or pizza?”
“Chinese. I assume you’re paying,” I said with a toothy grin.
Saoirse gave a delicate snort. “Don’t worry, Niko, you will be paid adequately for your time with the Guardians. My lady treats her people very well.”
I thought back to the sleeping arrangements and went to argue with her, but the hardness of her eyes and the silver that was creeping in around her pupils made me change my mind.
Once we were safely back in the car, Alasdair said, “Do not underestimate Saoirse. The priests and priestesses have the backing of their god. They wield great magic and are usually accomplished warriors. Some are notable assassins, too.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
The intensity to Saoirse’s expression when we’d left her office left me with no doubt that she was an experienced warrior. I needed to step up my game if I was going to rub shoulders with these people.
The tiredness had hit me not long before food had arrived. By the time I’d finished my sweet and sour pork, I was ready to sleep for twelve or more hours straight. Alasdair had thankfully been quiet and given me a little space. I grabbed a shower and curled up in the bed, where I slipped into sleep as my head hit the pillow.
I woke up slowly from the best night’s sleep I’d had since I’d been made. A deep sense of calm and peace filled me, and there was something strong wrapped around me giving me the perfect amount of support. I smiled and took a long deep breath, revelling in the sensation as I came to properly. Slowly, I realised that the thing offering support was Alasdair’s strong chest against my back and his arm draped over me, his long elegant fingers entwined with mine. The soothing scent of Scottish heather and stormy seas wrapped around me while his warm breath curled against my neck.
I tensed and growled. I hadn’t shared a bed with anyone since Brodie. I vanished the moment sex was concluded. Alasdair pulled away and sat up as I did. I kept my back to him.
“You were having nightmares, I was comforting you to help keep them away,” he snarled as though I’d slapped him.
I turned to face him and caught the hurt in his beautiful silver eyes. Looking away, I got up without a word and got dressed. I had no idea how to handle him and his tactility. I’d never spent much time around shifters, and I hadn’t had a friendship, let alone a romantic relationship, since Brodie. I was completely lost.
Alasdair placed a cup of hot coffee and plate full of bacon, egg, and sausage in front of me. He hadn’t said a word since we’d gotten up. He remained in nothing but his boxers, which was quite a distraction. I couldn’t help but look at the intricate sigils running across the top of his shoulders, or the way his ass was tight and pert.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Have I treated you so poorly?” he demanded.
I lifted my chin and met his gaze.
“You’re the first shifter I’ve spent any time with. I don’t know how to handle your,” I gestured at him, “anything. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with you.”
His stern expression changing to one of wicked delight, he leaned over the table.
“I can think of plenty of things,” he said huskily.
I held his eyes and watched the promises of intense pleasure dancing there and quashed the growing feeling of lust and temptation.
“Guardians are known for having large sticks up their ass,” I said as I bit into a sausage while holding his gaze.
It wasn’t particularly subtle, but he backed off and smirked at me.
“Made are known as being unstable runts,” he said.
I gave him a predatory smile. “No one has ever called me a runt and lived to talk about it.”
He laughed. “I don’t doubt it.”
I relaxed, glad to have the tension dissipate around us. Whether I liked it or not, we had to work together, and apparently share a fucking bed.
He vanished and reappeared in yet another suit just before we had to leave.
“Are you really going to wear that to meet the pack?” he asked.
I raised an eyebrow before I looked at my leather jacket, black t-shirt and jeans.
“Yes, I am. Are you going to wear that?” I gestured at his slate grey suit.
He sighed. “Get in the car.”
I grinned victoriously.
Twenty
The pack lived near Lough Corrib on a large farm with the main farmhouse sprawling at the end of a rough dirt driveway and a number of cottages and buildings scattered behind that. I’d taken my motorbike and followed behind Alasdair’s car. As much as it irritated me, we had decided it would be best if I had a mode of transport to leave the pack premises if it came to it. The ride over was grey and damp, much like any other day in Ireland. I parked my motorbike next to Alasdair’s car, which stood out against the much older cheaper vehicles parked in the generous space in front of the white farmhouse.
I’d never stepped foot on a pack’s territory before. It had always seemed like too much of a risk. I set my shoulders back and reminded myself that I had the goddess’ backing now. I was a Guardian or would be one soon. The wolves, thankfully all in their human forms, emerged from the space behind the house. The alpha stepped out onto the porch of the farmhouse. His dark eyes ambered the moment he saw me. His lips pulled back into an open snarl. I remained calm and kept my wolf buried deep. I could pass as a born shifter, if I was careful.
The pack must have been fifteen strong, maybe more if the cubs were being hi
dden. No one said a word as I walked up to the alpha.
“We’re here on behalf of the goddess about Richard,” I said.
“The goddess wouldn’t touch a fucking abomination,” the alpha spat.
He stared me down, challenging me. I reacted without thinking. He was bigger than me, but I was far more experienced. His balance wasn’t as secure as it should have been. I moved in quickly, hooked my foot around the back of his left ankle and yanked it back. He lost his balance enough that I used his backwards momentum to drive him against the wall and pin him there with my forearm against his throat.
I stared into his eyes, my teeth fully bared, as I slowly allowed my wolf closer to the surface. He lowered his eyes and offered a quiet whimper as he submitted and acknowledged I was more dominant. Satisfied, I stepped back and gave him room to compose himself.
“I’ll handle this from here, Niko. I’ll see you back at the church,” Alasdair said, his hand on my shoulder.
I was being dismissed.
With a nod to Alasdair, I buried my anger and returned to my bike. I struggled to push my wolf back down. My teeth had sharpened, as had my hearing. The shadow magic writhed deep in my stomach and thrashed against the bindings I’d put in place. I pushed my bike hard around the lanes and used the adrenaline from the speed to wash away the anger and bring myself back under control.
It wasn’t Alasdair’s fault the shifters were pricks. I was there to help them figure out what had happened to their packmate, but they’d just seen an abomination. I parked up near the church and started walking down the road towards the ocean. I couldn’t hang around that church and just wait for Alasdair like some trained mutt. The smell of the ocean calmed me and smoothed out the rough edges, allowing me to think a little more clearly. If I couldn’t speak with the pack about Richard, then I needed to find some other way to help.
Standing on the scrubby grass looking out over the ocean as the waves crashed against the rocks below, I tried to remember anything my coven might have told me about using chaos and shadow in a ritual. I was so lost in the memories that I didn’t notice the way the light around me dimmed far earlier than it should have done, or the chill in the air.
My shadow magic pressed against its bindings and drew me out of my memories just in time to see a skeletally thin fae lunge at me. His skin was bone-white, pale blue veins clearly visible on the back of his long narrow hands and across his gaunt cheeks. His eyes were pitch black and his mouth full of sharp pointy teeth, much like a piranha. I side-stepped his attack and spun around to figure out what the fuck was going on. He’d appeared out of nowhere.
He bared his bright white teeth at me in what came across as somewhere between a grin and grimace while he danced on the balls of his bare feet, watching me closely. I pulled my silver-coated knife and prepared to take him down. He moved quicker than I’d seen anything move. His claws raked my upper thigh, ruining the only good jeans I had left. His laugh sounded like metal on metal. It sent a chill down my spine. My shadow magic writhed against my bindings, distracting me enough that the bastard hit me square in the jaw. I shook my head and snarled at him. He was playing with me.
Something changed in his expression. It became harder, more angular. Suddenly, his long fingers were wrapped around my throat, and I couldn’t breathe. I punched him in the stomach with everything I had. I may as well have tickled him, for all the reaction he gave. The darkness was starting to close around my vision. I kicked out at him, and he only tightened his grip on my throat. My head was starting to get fuzzy. I released my shadow magic, seeing no other option.
The shadow filled my veins and wrapped itself around my hands. My wolf pushed forward, and its instincts overrode my human ones. I grabbed onto the fae’s throat and dug my fingers in as deep as I could. The fae screamed and clawed at my hands. The shadow slipped through his pale blue veins, turning them black. My wolf wasn’t satisfied. I took his legs out from under him and jumped on him, where I tore his throat out. His body disintegrated beneath me, returning to the fae plane. I was bent over, panting and trying to drive the shadow back down, when I heard footsteps approach me from behind.
“Niko?”
I turned to give Alasdair a calm smile.
“Did the pack help?”
He gave a small shrug and put his hands in his trouser pockets.
“No. Richard was a good wolf, kept his nose clean. No ties to any churches, he just vanished one day.”
His gaze swept over the grass where the shadow had been. Had he seen me using the shadow magic?
Twenty-One
“Are you going to tell me what you were fighting?”
I’d barely stood up and hadn’t thought of a suitable story, so I went for the truth.
“Fuck knows, some rabid fae?”
He raised an eyebrow and walked up to me. I narrowed my eyes before he took my hands in his and stroked his thumbs up over my inner wrists before he ran his fingers through my hair. It felt good. Each small touch calmed me and eased away the tension that I hadn’t even noticed was there.
“You were lucky. It doesn’t feel like you have any real injuries.”
His silver eyes held mine, searching for an answer that I wasn’t willing to give.
I grinned and shrugged. “I guess the goddess is watching over me after all.”
He made a disapproving noise, but stepped away.
“Saoirse doesn’t have a lead on the bead yet, but she does have some more information on the other victims for us to look over. We’ll pick it up then head back to the apartment.”
“I’ll see you back at the apartment,” I said.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Go and get us lunch, you owe me after I paid for dinner last night.”
He wasn’t giving up. He knew that I was hiding something. It felt like he was searching my very soul.
“Fine, I’ll find lunch. See you back at the apartment.”
I headed into the city proper in search of a supermarket. He had probably meant something warm and fancy, but I didn’t know when I was next going to be paid. I’d learnt early on that money was hard to come by and needed to be looked after. The city centre was heaving with people on their lunchbreak going to meet friends or bustling to work meetings. I tried to keep to the edge of the crowds and chose a shop with fewer people in it. The scent of a born fae was carried on the gentle breeze. I immediately tensed and glanced around, looking for another fight. They weren’t within sight, but I still remained alert and ready as I walked into the supermarket.
I came out with a large loaf of bread and some suitable sandwich fillings. It would do us for dinner, too, if we needed it to. Thankfully, the ride back to the apartment went without a hitch. I took the long and winding route back to try and make sure I wasn’t followed. Being careful was what had kept me alive for as long as I had been. Most made didn’t have too much to worry about as long as they kept their noses clean and didn’t pick fights with any of the born, but I was the first.
There had been abominations before me, corrupted creatures that didn’t last more than a few months. I was the first made to come of the ritual not only intact but with magic. There were a number of different groups of people trying to track me down because of that. I didn’t know if they knew I had magic, but being the first made me special. Thankfully, I’d never used my full Russian name. Everyone had called me Niko from a young age.
I buzzed to be let into the apartment; Alasdair hadn’t given me my own key. I growled to myself at the push for control and dominance.
“I have your key here for you, Niko, my mistake,” came through the intercom as he buzzed me in.
The anger dissipated and was replaced with suspicion. I pushed it all aside and reminded myself that he was my partner, my step to becoming a Guardian. The paranoia had its place, but I had to make sure it didn’t fuck up what could be the best thing to happen to me.
Alasdair had removed his suit jacket and tie and unbuttoned the top couple of buttons. He made the
simple pairing looking sinfully good as he opened the door. I handed him the loaf of bread.
“I assume you know how to make a sandwich,” I said with a grin.
He looked between me and the loaf of bread.
“I am over five centuries old, Niko, I am neither incompetent nor spoiled,” he said as he took the loaf from me.
I wrinkled my nose and followed him into the kitchen feeling like a jackass.
“I take it the pack weren’t at all helpful,” I said as I looked around for plates and glasses while Alasdair made the sandwiches.
“They shut down. My Guardian status wasn’t enough to overcome their hatred of made,” he said coolly.
“Welcome to my world,” I muttered.
“Saoirse’s files are on the coffee table,” he said as he handed me my sandwich.
“Have you started reading them yet?”
“No, I got in a minute before you buzzed.”
“You take the top half, I’ll take the bottom half,” I said and then realised the potential innuendo and refused to look at him. I could see the smirk on his face in my mind’s eye, I didn’t need to confirm its presence.
His hand slipped down over my hip and his lips were almost touching my ear when his whispered, “Gladly.”
I stepped away from him and claimed a spot on the sofa while eating my sandwich and trying to pretend it had never happened. Rather than taking the other end of the sofa, as someone else would have, he sat close to me. I could see the way his muscles flexed under his shirt when he stretched forward to pick up the files. I cursed myself for being a fool. He was a work colleague, nothing more.