Deceit can be Deadly (Law of the Lycans Book 8)

by Nicky Charles

  A location spell for individuals appeared, and hope surged momentarily thinking maybe she could use it to find Matt. Her eyes raced over the text interpreting the subtle nuances of the words. Spells weren’t always easy to understand, the language tending towards the archaic, the phrasing poetical and often using metaphors or containing ironic twists to trip up those who had no rightful business using them.

  Damn. The spell was to locate one you loved and she loved no one. Not even Matt. Her chest ached faintly and she absentmindedly rubbed her scar. Was it a blessing or a curse? Sometimes she wondered.

  She spent the rest of the night perusing the grimoire, reading various spells and trying to do a reverse object location spell on the napkin with no success. The object had to be in the possession of the individual for some time before it would be of any use. At some point, she must have dozed off for she woke with a start, feeling shaky and disoriented. The vision she’d had a week ago had been replaying in her head as she slept.

  The circle of fire made sense now given what she’d read in the newspaper and the wolf could be Dante but why was he attacking her? She’d done nothing wrong. And the crying child and woman, the path of light; their meaning was still a mystery.

  It suddenly struck her that everything was silent, no sound coming from overhead. A glance at her watch showed it was four in the morning. The staff must have closed the club for her. Stretching, she rose to her feet and carefully put the grimoire away before stumbling upstairs.

  Reno took his seat beside Brandi on the plane, grumbling about the lack of leg room. “It’s like flying in a sardine can.”

  “That’s what you get when you fly coach.” Brandi eased her legs over. “You can use some my space.”

  “Sorry. Excuse me.” A woman with a baby came to sit in the same row, Reno stood up in the aisle for her to pass by and Brandi squeezed back into her seat as much as she could.

  The pilot spoke over the PA, then a flight attendant gave the usual spiel about escape routes and floatation devices. Brandi didn’t pay much attention having heard the same message dozens of times before. Instead, she scanned the other passengers. Most appeared bored, a few tense as if they hated flying, and some had the look of excitement of those who were embarking on a great adventure. The woman beside her was cooing to the baby in her arms.

  After talking quietly to Reno for a while, she pulled out her tablet to re-read the minutes of the last Alliance meeting while Reno closed his eyes and tried to doze. It was an early morning flight, the sky still dark and many of the passengers were resting. She never was able to sleep on a plane so always tried to use the time to get some work finished.

  When she’d finished with the meeting notes, she noticed a tabloid paper had somehow been left behind in the magazine pocket of the seat. The rags were always filled with sensationalized stories but could be as addictive as eating popcorn. She pulled it out and soon became absorbed in the latest Hollywood scandals and unusual happenings from around the world. One article in particular caught her attention since it had supposedly happened in Chicago. She was reading intently when she suddenly felt a tug on her hair. The baby beside her had taken hold of one of her curls. The mother was leaning against the window, eyes closed. Brandi smiled at the baby and gently disengaged its hand only to have it latch on to her finger.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” The mother opened her eyes and sat up. “I hope he’s not being a bother.”

  “No problem.” Brandi smiled. “I like babies.”

  “Do you have any of your own?”

  “Not yet, but we’re hoping.” She glanced at Reno.

  The woman nodded and shifted in her seat. “Could I impose on you to hold him while I use the washroom?”

  “Of course.” Brandi took the little one, settling it against her chest as the mother eased herself out of the seats.

  Reno opened his eyes. “I see you have a new friend.”

  “Yeah. Cute little guy, isn’t he?”

  “Cuter than me?”

  “Well…”

  Reno chuckled and leaned in for a kiss only to stop and frown as the baby grabbed his nose.

  “Hey, little fella. That’s private property.” He loosened the child’s grip and then rubbed the offended member.

  “He’s strong, isn’t he?” Brandi bounced the baby in her arms.

  “That he is.” Reno glanced around before continuing in a voice lowered to a mere whisper. “He’ll make a fine alpha one of these days.” He brushed a finger along her cheek. “I like seeing you like this. Holding a baby. I can’t wait until it’s ours.”

  “Me, either.” The baby grabbed her necklace and began to gnaw on it. She watched indulgently before speaking again. “Reno, check out this news article I was reading.” She passed the paper to him.

  He glanced at the title and made a face. “Why are you reading this crap?”

  “Some people enjoy these papers,” she admonished. “Put your prejudices away for a minute and read it. The killing sounds like some magical ritual to me.”

  He frowned as he read. “I thought the witching community had issued a public condemnation of that sort of stuff years ago.”

  “They have. I was talking to Bianca, the witch’s envoy, about it the other day.” She frowned. “If this is true and word of this gets out, other members of the alliance we’re trying to form might get skittish. The Fae are already leery.”

  “Wait a minute.” Reno sat up straighter. “I think I’ve got it.”

  “What?”

  “What Dante is up to. When his girlfriend was killed, there were rumours of black magic being the cause. He’s in Chicago because of the quarterly Coven meeting, I’m sure of it.”

  “Perhaps he thinks someone on the Witch Council is responsible. Bianca said they’re all extremely powerful.”

  Reno compressed his lips into a straight line. “Higgins told me to back off, to let Dante do his job.”

  “But what is the job?”

  “Maybe…maybe to find and assassinate a certain witch, the one responsible for the killings.”

  “Gwyneth?”

  “Or someone she’s connected to.”

  “But why would Lycan Link approve of that? I mean, it’s awful if a witch killed Dante’s girlfriend, but it’s one incident that happened years ago. Seems quite a while after the fact.”

  “I know. But if this article is true, and the witch is killing again…”

  She nodded. “They might be trying to prevent a string of deaths. Only, I’ve not heard mention of Lycans being killed, have you?”

  “Nothing has crossed my desk. Unless Higgins has managed to keep it under wraps and he’s sending Dante in to fix the problem before it blows up in his face.”

  “If our theory is correct, Dante will be lucky to make it out alive. The Universal Coven won’t take kindly to interference from outsiders.”

  “And if he does survive, Higgins has me waiting in the wings to bring him in.”

  “But you said he’s probably Damien’s father.”

  Reno rubbed his neck. “Yeah. I know.”

  Chapter 22

  “I’m returning this necklace, Sven.”

  Gwyn stood in the elevator that would take her to Dante’s hotel room. Yesterday she’d been too surprised by the gift and then Rudy had arrived looking for Matt…or at least that’s the excuse she was using.

  “It’s a lovely piece but far too expensive. And he’s a Lycan. It doesn’t feel right accepting a gift from him.”

  Sven didn’t argue with her, of course. That was one of his most endearing qualities. When he’d been alive, it had been a different matter. He had been an opinionated man, and they’d had a number of heated arguments. A reminiscent smile curved her mouth before she sighed and returned her mind to the present.

  After returning the necklace, she planned on questioning Dante about possibly possessing a grimoire. The owner of the stained napkin was still a mystery; as expected, she had no luck doing a reverse search to s
ee who had owned it. The chances that Dante had a grimoire were astronomically small but she would put nothing past him. If he did indeed have one, she’d insist he hand it over to the Universal Coven.

  She made her way to his room and knocked on the door, recalling the last time she’d been here. There would be no kissing this time!

  Her fingers idly played with the opal; she’d allowed herself the guilty pleasure of wearing it one last time. Why he’d bothered to give it to her was puzzling. According to her gut, his assertion that he worked for the Affiliation Office was complete and utter bunk so there had to be another reason for his interest in her, and she wasn’t so foolish as to believe it was romance.

  The door finally opened just as she was raising her hand to knock again.

  “Gwyn! This is a pleasant surprise.” He took her hand and led her in, brushing a kiss across her cheek.

  “I’ve come to return the necklace.” She started right in on her mission, reaching up to undo the clasp.

  “But why? It suits you perfectly.”

  “It’s far too expensive and implies we have a close relationship, which we don’t.”

  “I’d argue that point.”

  ‘I’m not surprised. Arguing seems to be a favourite activity of yours. Nevertheless, I’m giving it back.” The clasp was being difficult and she stopped trying to undo it to rest her arms.

  “What if I don’t accept it back?”

  “Then I’ll leave it hanging on the door knob.” She set to work on the clasp again. “This damned thing is as difficult as you are.”

  He gave a bark of laughter. “Here, let me help. The way you are tugging at it, you’ll break the chain.” Stepping up behind her, he moved her hands out of the way.

  His fingers brushed softly against her skin, his breath warm on her nape. She could feel the heat of his body down the length of her, bringing to mind the previous time she’d been in the room with him.

  “There, it’s undone.” His hands moved to the front of her, each holding one end of the chain. The opal pendant slid down her chest, resting in her cleavage for a mere moment before he lifted it away.

  She turned, encircled in his arms and looked up at him. They were close, so close she could see the green and blue flecks in his irises, the faint lines on his face that spoke of a man who had lived a hard life. They had that in common; her life hadn’t been easy either. The corners of his mouth turned upward and then he leaned to press a gentle kiss to her lips.

  It was soft, sweet and warm, testing rather than demanding. She found herself moving closer, parting her lips, one hand resting on his chest where she could feel the steady beating of his heart. His hand cupped her neck, his thumb stroking her cheek, and she leaned into his touch.

  Common sense returned all too soon. She stepped back, feeling her cheeks growing warm. He smiled at her and held up the necklace that was now dangling from his hand.

  “I’ll keep this for now, but it was made to be worn by you. When the time is right, I’ll return it.”

  She didn’t argue, even though her brain was telling her there would never be a right time. Instead, she took a deep breath. “And speaking of returning things.”

  “Yes?” He moved to the dresser, placing the opal there.

  “I believe you have something that doesn’t belong to you.”

  He quirked a brow. “Dare I ask if it’s your heart?”

  “No.” She snorted and shook her head. “I mean a grimoire.”

  “Grimoire?”

  “A book of spells.”

  “Now why would you think that?”

  “Let’s say I have reason to be suspicious.”

  He leaned against the dresser, arms folded. “And if someone were in possession of such a book, what would you do?”

  “Demand its return so it could be handed over to the Universal Coven. From there we’d determine who owned it. If there were no surviving family members, we’d decide if it contained historically significant information or unique spells. That being the case, it would be archived. Otherwise, we’d likely have it destroyed to keep it from falling into the wrong hands.”

  “Interesting.”

  She eyed him carefully but had no idea if he was lying or not.

  “You know, you haven’t actually asked me if I have one or not.”

  “I…dammit, do you have one?”

  “There, you see? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  “Just answer the bloody question.”

  “Yes, I did come upon one.” He walked over to the closet and slid open the door to reveal the room safe. “I bought it at an estate sale about a week ago.” Entering the code, he removed a wrapped bundle from the interior. “It was interesting reading, though I couldn’t make heads nor tails out of most of what was written inside.”

  “Why are you handing it over so easily?”

  “A gesture of good will? If you had found a copy of our Book of the Law, I’d appreciate you returning it to me.” He handed the package to her. “It was in pretty rough shape when I purchased it.”

  His cooperation had her mentally off-balance. She’d expected an argument or a heated discussion at the very least. This was…anti-climactic. “Well, I thank you on behalf of the Coven.”

  “And you’re very welcome. Anything to help improve…relations between our species.”

  Heat sizzled through her, the double entendre of his words creating an erotic mental image. She stumbled through asking for the address of the estate sale so the Coven could investigate the grimoire’s lineage and then left as quickly as possible with the package held carefully to her chest.

  As she leaned against the wall of the elevator, she conjured up a cool breeze to ease the warmth of her body. She was beginning to think something was wrong with her. Every time she was in the man’s presence she was sucked into an increasingly strong whirlpool of attraction. Lusting after a Lycan was not an option, not an option at all!

  Dante closed the door behind Gwyneth, then leaned against the wooden panel feeling uncharacteristically guilty, for reeling her in, acting as if he cared—

  Acting? His wolf questioned the statement. You do care and that is the problem.

  “Yeah.” He rested his head back against the door. “Even though I’m not sure I trust her.”

  We have a job to do, just like we have had many times before. The wolf cocked its head. But this one is different.

  “And therein lies the problem.” He pushed off from the door. “I care about Gwyneth but I need to avenge Carlotta and stop the malefic witch.”

  If Gwyneth and the malefic witch are somehow connected…?

  “Then we have a big problem.”

  He walked over to the closet and closed the safe where he’d kept the grimoire. Gwyneth had been surprised when he’d handed over the book without protest. She didn’t realize its physical loss wasn’t an issue for him since he’d finished taking pictures of all the pages last night.

  He took out his phone and skimmed through the images in the photo gallery. The spells weren’t really useful to him. As long as he had his lock picks, a spell for opening doors was superfluous and, unless he wanted to give the malefic witch a case of hives, they were a curiosity, nothing more.

  The image of one spell caught his attention. It was the one he’d been studying the other night, why it kept drawing him back, he wasn’t sure but he’d learned that such occurrences usually meant something. He sat down to read it again then looked at the title once more.

  Time slowed and love cursed. Was this the blood spell Gwyneth had used? And could time slowed be somehow related to the malefic witch’s search for immortality? Once again, he wondered if she was implicated. His gut was telling him no…

  “Beer is in the fridge. TV remote is on the coffee table.” Sam pointed out the amenities to Reno. He and Brandi had arrived about an hour ago, and after the initial greetings, Brandi had proposed they go shopping for baby things.

  “I’ll be fine. You girls have fun. I�
��ll wait here for Damien to get back.” Reno took a seat on the sofa.

  “Oh, and feel free to dig through the kitchen for food.” Sam frowned trying to recall exactly what was in the kitchen to eat. Kitchen duty really wasn’t her thing. “I’m sure there are munchies in there somewhere.”

  “He’ll be fine, Sam.” Brandi stood impatiently by the door.

  Reno reached for the remote. “Go. There’s a game on TV. I’ll call you when Damien gets back and we can meet for dinner.”

  The sound of a horn honking let them know the cab was there and the two women left, idly chatting about Brandi’s job.

  “So, you’re officially here to meet with the Magissa?” Sam gave a low whistle. “That’s pretty impressive.”

  “I guess so. After a while though you realize most of the dignitaries are just regular people.”

  “That’s true.”

  “I’m really glad the Universal Coven is having their quarterly council meeting in Chicago this year. It will give me the chance to meet with several of the council members without having to fly all over the world.”

  “You do a lot of travelling with your new job. It must be exciting.”

  Brandi shrugged. “It was at first. Now I’m only too happy to have a chance to stay home. Reno and I hardly ever see each other.”

  “That’s rough.”

  “It is. Especially since we’ve been trying to start a family.”

  Something in Brandi’s tone caught Sam’s attention but after they entered the cab and gave directions, Brandi changed the topic so the moment was lost.

  They spent the next hour looking at rattles and rocking chairs and dozens of other items that every store clerk declared to be essential for a well-stocked nursery. Brandi understood all the paraphernalia and Sam tried to listen and enthuse over the benefits of various teething rings and diaper brands without her eyes glazing over. Internally, her stomach gave a twist as she wondered what was wrong with her. Why wasn’t she fascinated like Brandi was? Why didn’t she know about all this stuff? Brandi sounded like an expert and she wasn’t even pregnant yet!