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

by Nicky Charles

  “Later, buddy.” He murmured absentmindedly before calling her name once more. “Gwyneth!”

  “Is there a reason you broke in and began bellowing like a baboon?”

  He turned quickly at the sound of Gwyneth’s voice, relief filling him. “Are you all right?” She appeared pale, her shirt collar askew.

  “Yes? Are you?” She brushed a loose strand of hair from her face with a shaking hand. “You seem distraught.”

  “I…” He studied Gwyneth more closely. Her voice held the hint of a quaver and there was a look about her eyes he couldn’t place, a softness he’d not seen before.

  Something is not right, his wolf muttered looking about uneasily.

  “Dante?” She prompted him. “Did you break in—again—for a reason?”

  He blinked. “Um, yes. I…er…I wanted to apologize for my outburst this morning.

  She considered his statement and then nodded. “Accepted.”

  He blinked. “That was easier than I expected.”

  “I decided I would have reacted in the same way.” She averted her gaze, her hands tightly clasped in front of her. “I wasn’t completely pleased you are related to Tomas so I suppose we’re even.”

  “It was a shock for both of us.”

  She seemed to want to say something but then changed her mind. “Would you like a drink? Some of the cognac you’re always asking for?”

  “The private stock reserved for friends?”

  “Yes.” She finally looked at him again, a tentative smile hovering around her lips.

  The offer was definitely an olive branch, one he was more than pleased to accept.

  Once the curse is dealt with. His wolf gave him a nudge.

  The animal was right. For all that he wanted to explore this new side of Gwyneth, dealing with the curse should take priority. Once it was gone, they’d have all the time in the world. “Thanks, but not right now. I’m actually here for two reasons. First, because I’m sorry and secondly, I need a favour.”

  Was there a flash of disappointment in her eyes? He wasn’t sure.

  “A favour?” She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “And what would that be?”

  He explained about the curse and how he’d come by a possible reversal, carefully omitting Roxi’s name.

  “I’d need to see the spell.” She furrowed her brow. “I won’t believe the word of some unnamed witch.”

  Thankfully, he’d taken a picture of the original as well as bringing along the reversal Roxi’s cousin had written out.

  Gwyneth studied both and nodded. “They seem compatible.”

  “Excellent. If we head to the pack house—”

  He was interrupted by a pounding at the door followed by the sound of someone yelling. “I know you’re in there, Dante. Your putrid scent is all over this place.”

  “Is that Damien?” Gwyneth cocked her head.

  “It is.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’ll deal with him.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m perfectly capable of—”

  The door burst open and Damien half fell into the room, obviously drunk. “Where are you, Dante? I’m going to beat your sorry ass.”

  “Damien!” Dante took a half step forward but Gwyneth pushed past him seeming to revert to her usual self in the face of this new disturbance.

  “Masterson, you damned well know the rules around here. Get yourself in line or I’ll ban you for life.”

  Damien swung his gaze her way. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about your rules. Fucking witches killed my mother. And you,” he turned to face Dante again. “You’re a lying, stealing, murdering bastard.”

  Each word was like a physical blow to Dante. He’d done things in his life, things he wasn’t proud of, all in the name of finding the malefic witch. Yes, he’d done some good, helped bring down several groups that were the worst kind of criminals out there, but even if Damien were to listen, did the good outweigh the bad? He had to try though. Some kind of line of communication needed to be in place.

  The evil is here, his wolf announced.

  Dante frowned, then looked at Damien. Was this more than normal grief and anger? Could the curse be driving the boy into wildly, self-destructive behaviour? From what he’d learned of Sam, she wouldn’t tolerate a mate who acted like this.

  He is our pup. It is our duty to help him.

  Dante stretched out his hands and stepped forward. “Damien, I—”

  In a blur of movement Damien attacked, crashing into him, sending him careening backwards into a table. It broke under the force of their combined weight, both of them to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

  Dante rolled away and sprang to his feet just in time to dodge a chair that Damien swung at him. The wood splintered against a nearby post, bits of wood flying through the air. Dante reached out and yanked the remaining chair leg from Damien’s hand before he could use it as a weapon. Even drunk, the boy was a good fighter. A flash of fatherly pride sprang up in him until Damien’s fist crashed into his cheek sending him reeling.

  “Take that you cocksucking douchebag.” Damien snarled the words, his eyes narrowed.

  As he turned from the force of the blow, Dante swung out his leg, catching Damien in the back of his knee, knocking him off balance.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Damien.” He panted the words only to feel Damien grab his ankle and jerk his leg out from under him. The boy apparently had no such reservations.

  Somehow, he landed on top of Damien and they rolled about, each trying to hold the other down. At one point, he had Damien by the shoulders, then Damien had him by the throat. They knocked over another piece of furniture and shards of glass exploded around them.

  “My new glasses!” Gwyneth’s angry cry barely registered as he staggered to his feet and rushed at Damien pushing him back against the wall.

  Damien struggled to shove him away. Nearby a picture jiggled loose and clattered to the ground, then another. Suddenly, Damien reached up and grabbed an overhead wall sconce and used it to lever himself up so he could kick out with both feet.

  “Oomph!” Dante grunted as the force of Damien’s kick expelled the air from his lungs and shoved him back. He staggered, sucked in a deep breath and rushed forward, ramming his shoulder into Damien, once again pinning him to the wall.

  Somewhere to the side he was aware of another presence, another Lycan and prepared himself for another attack when, seemingly out of nowhere, a bottle came crashing down on Damien’s head. The boy’s eyes widened, rolled back in his head and then he crumpled to the floor.

  Gwyneth stood, hands on her hips, glaring at the now unconscious man. “That’s what you get for fighting in my bar!”

  “Damn, woman. You swing a mean bottle.” Reno Smith’s voice sounded from the side and Dante swung his gaze to see Reno standing a few feet away.

  “Not the first time I’ve had to do it.” Gwyn knelt beside Damien. “I was going to hex him but they were moving too quickly for me to get a good aim.” She checked his head. “He’s fine, just unconscious. It’s hard to damage a Lycan, especially one this hard-headed.”

  Dante leaned forward panting, his hands on his knees, bracing himself. A mirror was hanging drunkenly on the wall opposite him and he caught a glimpse of himself. His lip was swollen, one eye already turning black, streaks of blood from a myriad of tiny cuts. Slowly he stood up, feeling various aches and pains beginning to make their presence known.

  “What’s going on?” Reno looked about the room. “Besides a fight, I mean.” He let out a low whistle. “You two did a fine job of trashing this place.”

  Dante checked out his surroundings and winced. Broken tables and chairs, glass everywhere. “I’m sorry, Gwyneth. I’ll pay for the damage.”

  “We’ll discuss it later. I’ll close the bar tonight, call Rudy to organize a few staff to come in to clean. In the meantime,” she nodded towards Damien, “take him home. I’ll be there soon and we’ll remove the curse.”

  �
��Curse?” Reno inquired, looking bewildered.

  “I’ll explain on the way.” Dante used the edge of his shirt to wipe his face.

  “Here.” Gwyneth moved to hand Dante a wine bottle and then stopped. “No, you were all I don’t want to hurt my son while your son was clearly out for your blood.” She shook her head and gave the bottle to Reno instead. “If he wakes up in the car, hit him with this.”

  Sam opened the door of the pack house and gasped at the sight of Reno and Dante dragging an unconscious Damien up the steps. Reno appeared fine, but the other two had definitely been in a fight.

  “Take him upstairs to our bedroom.” She shut the door and then hurried up the stairs behind them.

  “What happened?” Brandi appeared from the direction of the kitchen and followed them upstairs.

  “I’d like to say we had an amicable father-son discussion but I don’t think you’d believe me.” Dante eased Damien’s head down on the pillow and then stepped back to make room for Sam.

  “When I arrived at Mystique, they were beating the crap out of each other,” Reno added as he yanked off Damien’s boot. “Gwyneth put a stop to it before I could step in.”

  “I can guess how she stopped it.” She gently felt the lump on Damien’s head. “Thank you for bringing him home. I don’t know what’s going on with him. It’s like he’s a changed man.”

  Dante took a deep breath. “Let me see if I can explain.”

  Sam listened to the long and convoluted tale, taking the damp cloth Brandi gave her and wiping down Damien’s face, then unbuttoning his shirt and loosening his belt so he’d be more comfortable.

  “…and that is how we’ve come to this point.” Dante finished his recount, looking weary.

  “Quite the story of cause and effect.” Sam rubbed her hands over her stomach.

  Dante nodded. “Gwyneth and Tomas set a cascade of events into motion that’s lasted generations.”

  “History repeating itself over and over,” Reno murmured. “Carlotta was murdered, Beth was murdered. The men who loved them seeking revenge.”

  Sam nodded. “Cyrus was planning on killing me but we foiled that plan.”

  “So the curse began to work on Damien,” Dante added.

  “And if we don’t end it today, your child’s life will be plagued as well,” Gwyn appeared in the doorway.

  “My baby?” Sam wrapped her arms protectively around the unborn child.

  Gwyn nodded. “It’s a generational curse. An exceptionally strong one given the phase of the moon when it was first uttered.”

  “Until the curse is removed, any future children Damien sires will be in danger.” Dante explained. “The child you carry is already its own person so the curse has already been passed on to it.”

  “Is it dangerous?” Sam felt fear fluttering within her. “Maybe we should wait until the baby is born.”

  “The danger is if we do wait.” Dante shook his head. “There’s a high mortality rate in our family. Stillborn babies, mothers dying in childbirth.”

  “I’m not sure...” Sam frowned as doubts began to fill her.

  “To the best of my knowledge, there are no complications associated with the procedure.” Gwyn assured. “Once the curse is removed, you should experience an extra sense of well-being.”

  “Your concerns could very well be the curse trying to protect itself,” Dante cautioned. “In some respects, it’s like a living thing. Once it senses it is in danger, it will fight for survival.”

  Sam took a deep breath and eased down to sit on the bed beside Damien. She stared down at his now peaceful face, thinking of the torment it had carried earlier in the day, of the baby he’d already lost, of the insecurities that had plagued her these past few months. “All right. What do we do?”

  “Just sit there as you are. The rest of you step back please.” Gwyn lifted her arms, hands spread out towards where Damien lay. As she murmured the spell, a sense of power seemed to radiate from her like the warmth of the sun, filling the room with light and warmth.

  Sam slid her hand along the bed until she found Damien’s and laced their fingers together. At first his hand was cool and limp but slowly it warmed in her grip, then his fingers twitched, curling around, until he held onto her hand tightly.

  She closed her eyes, focusing on the waves of peace and happiness filling her. The barrier to their blood-bond was dissolving, the restless anger fading until all she felt was waves of love encompassing her in a warm embrace. Tears began to spill down her cheeks and then she was pressed to Damien’s chest, her face buried in the crook of his neck, his scent filling her with every breath she took.

  “It’s okay, sugar. It’s okay.” He rocked her tenderly and she melted against him, releasing all the tension and uncertainty that had filled her the past few months.

  Her mate loved her.

  She was going to be a mom.

  Everything was going to be okay.

  Reno, Brandi and Dante stood in the hallway as Gwyn worked to remove the curse. Dante had worry lines on his face, interspersed with various bruises and cuts. His shirt had a smear of blood on it and the sleeve was partially torn off.

  “You know, Dante,” Reno leaned back against the wall, his arm around Brandi’s shoulders. “Higgins talked to me a while back. Wanted me to bring you in once the malefic witch was dealt with.”

  “And?” Dante tensed.

  “I had my reservations. Seemed to me that if you were working for Lycan Link, even in an unofficial capacity, throwing you under the bus wasn’t fair.”

  Dante turned to check on Gwyneth. “But life’s seldom fair.”

  “Sadly, that’s true,” Brandi murmured, her eyes fixed on the proceedings in the room across the hall.

  Reno gave Dante a sideways look. “But I always felt it should be.”

  “Idealists don’t get far.” Dante shoved his hands in his back pockets.

  “But they can live with themselves.”

  Dante nodded. “So, what are you going to do?”

  “Nothing. As far as I’m concerned, you’re free to go. I don’t know everything you’ve done in your life and I don’t want to know. You had your reasons. Lycan Link turned a blind eye when it suited them. It’s not playing the game fair if they suddenly change the rules.”

  Brandi squeezed his arm in approval.

  “Thanks.” Dante gave a quick nod.

  “The thing is,” Reno continued the conversation, “they might ask Damien to go after you if you’re in his territory.”

  “And you’d prefer I leave so he doesn’t have to make the decision of whether to track down his father or not.” Dante looked him directly in the eye.

  “That’s about it.” Reno met his gaze.

  “Understood.” Dante turned his eyes back to Gwyneth. “I’ll make sure Damien isn’t faced with that choice.”

  Chapter 35

  Dante smiled, content to feel Gwyneth leaning against him. They were in a taxi headed to his hotel. He’d convinced her they needed to talk, that once back at the club, those cleaning up the evidence of the fight would ask her questions and interrupt the important discussion they needed to have.

  It’s good to have the witch with us. His wolf looked at Gwyneth fondly.

  He nodded in agreement.

  Will we keep her as a mate?

  “Right to the point, aren’t you, old boy?”

  There is no point avoiding the topic. The wolf gave him a level look. She is good for you.

  “But what about you?” He mentally scratched the wolf’s neck the way he liked it. “You’ll be alone.”

  As long as I have you, I will be content. The wolf leaned against him. Besides, her cat will keep me entertained. It is a curious creature.

  Dante chuckled. “Well, before we make too many plans, I’ll need to ask her if she’ll have us.”

  She will.

  “That confident, are you?”

  You are the one that always says attitude is everything.

&nb
sp; “True.”

  Satisfied that it had made its point, the wolf subsided.

  Dante leaned his head back against the seat. Yes, if Gwyneth would have him, he’d be content to spend the rest of his life with her. How he’d broach the subject, he wasn’t quite sure though.

  He glanced down noticing her eyes were shut, her lashes fanned out over her cheeks. She seemed tired, as if removing the curse had taken a lot out of her. Maybe it had; he had little understanding of the impact of performing magic on a witch’s physical well-being.

  She stirred beside him, giving a yawn and then sitting up. “Sorry, I dozed off.”

  “Only for ten minutes. A catnap.”

  She stretched and rubbed her eyes. “Looks like we’re almost at your place.”

  “Yep.” He removed his arm from her shoulders.

  The taxi stopped in front of the hotel and they exited. Dante put his hand in the small of Gwyneth’s back, gently guiding her across the lobby and into the elevator.

  “I don’t need help,” she murmured.

  “But I enjoy doing it.” He gave a crooked grin. “Call it my old-world charm.”

  She made a noncommittal sound. “I suppose it’s okay.”

  “Thank you.” The door of the elevator closed and he slid her a look. “Is it difficult? Performing magic?”

  She shrugged. “It depends on what kind of magic you’re talking about. Boiling water, opening a door; that’s nothing.”

  “But bigger tasks like removing that curse are harder.”

  “Yes. To those watching it might seem like nothing but internally the witch is conveying energy from herself and the world around her. Performing several large acts of magic in a row can be very tiring.”

  “That makes sense.” He nodded, thinking back to the night Carlotta had died, yet he and Damien had survived. Cyrus’ energy level must have been drained at that point. Someday, he’d ask Gwyneth about his theory but not tonight.

  The elevator door slid open and they made their way to his room. After unlocking the door, he opened it cautiously, head cocked to the side listening and scenting the air before giving a nod and stepping aside so Gwyneth could enter.