“You’re forgetting me,” Darius said, his voice making me shiver involuntarily as I thought of silk sheets and whipped cream and… Obviously there were residual effects from this afternoon’s power surge. Hellion stroked my hand, and suddenly all I could think of was the silk sheets, whipped cream and these two men undeniably at my service. Darius’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and he took a breath. When he didn’t say anything, I realized he’d been scenting my arousal. Hellion must have suspected as much because he started to open his mouth, and I laid my hand on his thigh, close to his groin. He unconsciously shifted so my hand grazed his testicles, and they tightened in response. There was too much sexual energy in this room for this to be normal. Someone had to tone it down, and the way the men were looking at me made it clear neither of them would take the initiative.
So I cleared my voice loudly and said, “Who. Else. Someone throw in some ideas, now, before this pisses me off. And no, I’m not forgetting you. You aren’t doing this.”
Darius took a long sip of his wine and looked down, seeming to gather himself. “There are two others you’re dismissing, though one touched you and you touched one. The first is Aiden, Bahlin’s brother. When you stopped his mother from striking you, he grabbed your arm.”
“But does that count? I mean, technically, he touched me, I didn’t touch him.”
“Because only you spoke to Tyr, I believe we’re going to have to defer to your interpretation of his words to you,” Hellion said, sitting forward and reaching for his whiskey glass. I’d elected a Coke tonight in lieu of alcohol. I needed the caffeine.
“I’m going to say he’s not at the top of the list because he touched me, not the other way around.” I tapped my fingers against my teeth as I thought, and Hellion finally reached over and grabbed my hand to make me stop.
“Thanks, Hellion,” Darius drawled. “I was about to ask you to roast me again just to get her to quit.” And with that jab at my expense, the men seemed to ease down and things were back to normal.
“Sorry,” I murmured, watching them as they interacted. I envied the easy friendship that seemed to usually exist between them, and I hoped Darius and I would be able to develop that same comfortable familiarity over time. I thought we were well on our way. “Sorry,” I said again, stronger this time. “My mind was wandering.” I shook my head as if to clear the imaginary cobwebs, and I turned to Darius. “Who else, Darius? You said I was dismissing two others. Aiden’s one. Who’s the—” My stomach clenched and I grabbed it, bending over. “Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. I know who it is.”
Darius stood and stepped toward me, hand outstretched, but Hellion was closer. He swept me up in his arms and cradled me close to his chest. “Who, love?”
I shook my head violently, whispering, “No,” over and over under my breath.
“Just tell me, Maddy.” Hellion’s arms tightened around me and held me protectively.
Darius opened his mouth to speak the name, and I screeched at him, “NO! Don’t you dare say it, Darius.”
Darius’s voice cracked across the small room like a gunshot and was as effective as a physical slap to knock me out of my panic. “Madeleine Niteclif, you are not a coward, so stop behaving as such. Hellion, set her down.”
Hellion looked thunderous but I took a shaking breath and nodded, standing on my own feet as Hellion released me. Shaky, but I’d do. “I’ll thank you later.”
“Care to elaborate on why the name fills you with dread?” Darius looked pointedly over my shoulder at Hellion, who was still hovering.
I rubbed the tight feeling that was gathering between my breasts and nodded. “Hellion said…” I had to stop and breathe.
“Whatever I said, Maddy, it can’t be this bad.” Hellion wrapped long arms around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder. I laid my cheek against his and he whispered, “We’ll handle it together.”
“But that’s just it. You didn’t know if we could handle it. You said, oh Hellion, you said that if it was…Gaitha, you didn’t know how we’d stop her.”
“The mad queen was at the park?” he asked, clearly confused.
“No, but if she would have been hard to stop, how hard will it be to stop her husband? Kelten’s our killer.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The house was a flurry of activity as phone calls were made and vampires came and went. We’d decided not to notify the Council because of Kelten’s connections. Praen was new enough that there was little way to judge what her reaction would be. If she wanted to forewarn her uncle, he could hide in the fae’s sithen until the end of time, and no one would be able to pull him out. From there he’d be able to coordinate my death among his loyalists or take care of it himself. A lifetime was a long time for me to be looking over my shoulder.
The men had been completely silent as I laid out what I was certain were the facts. The day I’d returned with Clay to the hotel, I’d seen someone in the hotel lobby who I thought I’d recognized. I’d been certain he was fae, but I’d been in enough pain, and had met enough of the fae over the previous weeks, that I wasn’t certain I’d know his name, so I’d dismissed the thought of calling out a hello. In civilian clothes of jeans and a T-shirt, and out of his spot in my mind, it just hadn’t dawned on me that it was Kelten.
The flowers had been from him. He’d stuck the hair inside the card to prove how close he had come to me while I was unaware of him, though how he’d obtained the hair from my head still stumped me.
The fight with Bahlin that resulted in his violent disappearance would have shown up on the Council’s radar, and probably the fae seer’s beacon. We knew that, at the very least, Sarenia’s seer had picked it up. How? Bahlin’s admission of Aiden’s frantic call to him.
Kelten would have known of our general movements around England and Scotland because he had watchers of his own. It had been his lackey who had followed us to Avebury Henge and the restaurant that day. Kelten had killed the waitress before attending the Council vote, believing me to still be in the area. In fact, I’d already been at Hellion’s London home or well seated inside the henge when the killing occurred. I regressed into speculation at that point, believing Kelten had had his wife, Gaitha, forcibly if not violently locked up and abused, hence the claw marks on his face and the scratches and bruises around her throat. She’d tried to warn me that night at the henge but I’d seen only what Kelten counted on me seeing when he brought her, and that was the countenance of a woman driven mad by grief.
That same night, we’d moved on to Hellion’s estate in Ireland. Hellion’s large country home hadn’t been on his scope at the time and had been generally well warded enough to keep us hidden from all but Bahlin, who had Conor on the inside advising him of our movements. Had Conor figured out Kelten was the source of power he’d really sought, our stories would have likely all ended there. Instead, the power-hungry magus had followed the clearest source of power presented—the blue weyr—and his betrayal had been short-lived though high priced.
The murders followed me, always seemingly one step behind, until the blond hair showed up at Hellion’s home. I was guessing the hair was Gaitha’s, and Kelten had used it to bind her powers to him. If we learned she was able to dematerialize and corporally cloak herself, we’d be able to prove this conjecture.
Amaly’s murder had been committed with the sole purpose of crippling Hellion. Kelten had likely followed the hair inside the ward, just as Hellion had speculated . Arriving at Amaly’s, she either saw him and he killed her, or he waited her out and he killed her to hurt Hellion. Either way, it had been a true blow.
With Kelten busy that night, Gaitha had broken free of his bonds and made her way to Hellion’s London home to warn us, later tracking us to Black & Bleu. She’d missed us by less than a second, and I was nearly physically ill to realize it could have all been stopped if we’d only taken a moment longer at the table, or if Hellion had decided to use the restroom before leaving, or if she’d been able to get to the re
staurant any sooner. But what was done was done.
Kelten had firm knowledge we were basing ourselves out of London and had followed us closely. The night in the park, when Hellion left me to blow off some steam, Kelten had nearly had me. Only Hellion’s fast return had saved my life. As a result, we suspected Kelten tipped off the mundane police in an effort to complicate our lives. It had worked.
The night Kelten had made it into our bedroom and waited on me, I’d sensed another person. This was, again, speculation, because I couldn’t know for sure, never having seen her, but I believed it was Gaitha. With the blond hair out of the house, he’d needed the original magic, not magic he’d stolen, to help him travel to the room. Again, if Hellion’s timing had been a moment off, things would have ended differently.
Finally, last night in the park had been the snapping point for Kelten. Alerted to the hunting activity by his niece, he’d been unable to stay away. He had come to see what would happen when the killer couldn’t be located. Likely intending to stay to the shadows, he hadn’t been able to pass up the opportunity to finish me. He’d been denied too many times and didn’t believe he’d really be caught. So he’d followed along as a corporeal mist and had taken advantage of my step off the path to attack. He hadn’t expected me to fight back, and I was sure I wasn’t going to catch him off guard a second time. That meant that, whatever happened tonight, we had to end this thing.
Darius left with Hellion to go plan how to track Kelten down and lure him out for the kill. There would be no trial. The men had asked surprisingly few questions, instead keeping me on track when the shaking got too bad and became a physical distraction.
I was lying on the leather sofa, eyes closed, when I felt my companion move. Even though Hellion had strengthened his warding, no one wanted to leave me alone in the house. And because I wasn’t ready to listen to violence being plotted like a street map, I’d begged off the planning part. It would be a cold day in Hell before I’d stay home tonight, but for now, I needed some time to myself.
“Maddy?” Efein said, rubbing cool fingers along the arch of my foot. “Are you awake, love?”
“Mmm hmm.”
He rested his hand on my ankle, and I opened my eyes. I had met Efein twice before, but I’d never really spoken to him much. Tonight I’d found the soft-spoken, auburn-haired vampire to be pleasant, undemanding company. He was one of Darius’s best warriors, though he refused to tell me where he’d honed his battle skills. His carriage and comfort with a sword made me believe he wasn’t a recent recruit.
“Will you call Bahlin?” he asked, his voice hardening some on the other supe’s name. “Because as much as I despise the bastard, I think he deserves to be involved.”
“You’re right,” I said on a sigh as I sat up. “Did you mention this to Hellion or Darius?”
Efein looked uncomfortable before he schooled his rugged face into the smooth, lineless visage I was used to. “I did. They want to handle it without calling the dragons.”
“Why?”
“I believe it’s to do with you.”
“Figures.” I pushed myself up off the sofa and stretched, my back cracking. “I think we should probably call him and his people in, but the more we open this up to Council, the more we run the risk of tipping Kelten off. I’ll defer to them unless, well, unless I don’t.” I smiled at Efein and offered him a hand up off the floor where he’d sat by my feet. He took it and stood, and his disproportionate weight had me stumbling into him as he gained his feet. His arms instinctively wrapped around me, and he sighed. “They are lucky men to hold your favor as they do,” he whispered before letting me go.
I stepped back, a little uncomfortable. I mean, seriously, what the hell was it with all the guys seeming to sprout mature wood in my vicinity lately? I’m not a prize. I’m average looking, slightly neurotic, clumsy as hell, prone to fits of temper compounded by panic attacks, and I am, apparently, a real cover hog. It made no sense.
Shaking my head, I stepped away from him and squeezed his hands before letting go. “You’re kind, Efein, but I’m no catch.”
“I respectfully beg to differ, Maddy.” He seemed so easy-going and gentle in that small moment in time that it was hard for me to reconcile this vampire with the one who had participated unquestioningly in draining Conor of his life that night in Ireland.
Just shows how hard it is to really know people, I thought to myself. I gave a small smile and headed down the hall to the library, Efein on my heels. Still more than fifteen paces away, I could hear the angry, raised voices of the men as they argued about how they’d draw Kelten out. I realize it was open eavesdropping, but I stopped to listen anyway, convinced they’d dumb it down if I made myself known. Men.
Hellion’s voice was loudest as he opposed the plan which, from what I could gather among the arguing, called for me being used as bait. He thought it was too great a risk to use me and instead proposed sending in a different decoy, one who maybe didn’t entirely understand the risks—i.e. didn’t have a clue what was going on. He wanted Darius to pick up a woman who looked like me and take her for a stroll in Hyde Park, or pull her down an alley to make a meal of her, or something. It was evident he wanted anything, would support anything, that kept me safely locked up with a gaggle—flock? passel?—of vampires for protection. Voices suddenly died down, and I strained to hear what had happened. The answer came easily enough. I’d been discovered.
“Come in, Maddy,” Darius called. “You might as well have a say in our planning.”
“No! She is not going to come in here and tell me—”
“What? I’m not going to tell you what?” I asked in a soft, menacing voice as I walked around the corner and into the room. “Because I know we’re not going to have this conversation again, Hellion, the one where I explain to you what my job is.” My voice was sharp but not hostile, though it could have been pushed that way in a second.
“Maddy,” Hellion pleaded, “this is insane. I can’t allow you to—”
“And there’s the rub, Hellion. I’m the Niteclif, so ultimately it’s not up to you.” Out of sheer stubbornness and poor judgment skills, I turned to Darius. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”
London’s predictable afternoon showers had left the night air so heavy with moisture it felt dense and unbreathable. Gutters still trickled with the last dregs of the day’s rain, carrying away at least two layers of the city’s grime and depositing them in places best not thought about. Hellion and Darius argued as they walked down the front stairs, their footsteps muffled in the opaque fog that was beginning to materialize as the evening air rapidly cooled under suspiciously clear skies. Stars struggled to shine through the lights of the city, winking against the purplish-black canvas of the night. I loved nights like this.
I leaned out the door and watched the men argue as they walked, the sounds of a raucous game of cards bleeding through the open doorway at my back. No, this wasn’t part of the plan, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
“Maddy?” Efein called. “Shut the door, love. You know Hellion doesn’t want you anywhere near the doors or windows.”
I looked down the street as the men came to a stop, still arguing. This was going too far, but there was nothing I could do to stop it.
I slammed the door loudly as Efein came around the corner. “Join us?” He jerked his head toward the library.
“No, thanks. I think I’ll go up and read for a bit.” I rubbed his arm as I walked passed him and squeezed his hand. He gave no indication of having noticed, or cared.
I jogged up the two flights of stairs and headed for the bedroom, a little nervous about entering alone after the attack only a couple of days ago. Hellion had assured me the house was warded more heavily than ever before, but my security had been shaken. I eased through the door instead of walking straight in, my eyes sweeping the bedroom. No madmen. No smell of burning hair. All clear.
I went to the closet and repeated my easing in, back-against-the-wall r
outine with the same result. I grabbed my sweatshirt and headed for the window. This was going to be one of the most difficult things I had to do. Taking a deep breath, I opened the window at the back of the closet and let the emergency ladder roll down the side of the building. I couldn’t help the increased breaths per second or the spike in heart rate. I took a shuddering deep breath and, with sweaty palms, I eased my way down from the third story and stopped. No one followed me, so I made my way down to the first story with the same result. At this point a fine sheen of sweat decorated my neck, hairline and upper lip and I’d sweated through the T-shirt I wore under my sweatshirt. I had to leap the last five or six feet to the ground, but I did so without complaint, grateful for the feel of terra firma under my sneakers. I adjusted all of my clothes to make sure I was comfortably arranged before taking off at a slow jog in the general direction the men had gone.
Slipping through a small opening in a manicured boxwood hedge I emerged on Lee’s Place and turned toward Wood’s Mews, headed for Hyde Park. The street was quiet this late in the evening with most households tucked in for the night. Slipping along like an exceptionally tall specter, I imagine I looked like an over-bundled cat burglar. If the police caught me, I’d have a lot of explaining to do. People just didn’t hoof it around this neighborhood dressed in all black and looking scared. Money like this bought insulation from intent.
I reached the end of the street where the men had last been seen arguing. Crossing Park Street, I continued on, no sign of the men anywhere. I heard distant shouting, someone calling my name. Efein. I picked up the pace, knowing the vampires would catch me if I didn’t gain some distance.
Wrath: The Niteclif Evolutions, Book 2 Page 32