Heir Of Doom

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Heir Of Doom Page 10

by Jina S Bazzar

Diggy tilted his head sideways before replying, “Him, me, whoever's available.”

  Archer's lips thinned, displeased. “What, is Roland's second going about, aimlessly whoring for the guild then?”

  Diggy paused, took a sip. “If and who Vagner whores around with is none of my concern. That's something you should take up with him.”

  People were watching us, murmuring, keeping a relative distance away. As if he sensed things would go to Hell if he didn't throttle back, Archer relaxed, though his anger was still there, stronger perhaps.

  “I understood from Mackenzie that Vincent would be overseeing to her entire discipline,” Archer said in a more diplomatic tone. He clenched his jaw once, as if he had to hold back what he really wanted to say. “She's supposed to be following an approved, strict schedule, one that will bring out her basic strengths and polish them, while educating her about the clan's rules and hierarchy. Something I can see she's lacking in knowledge.”

  “That certainly falls under Vagner's responsibilities,” Diggy agreed. “Meanwhile, for the first part, when Vagner isn't available, Roxanne will be following my instructions and guidelines, per my superior's approval.” His tone was pleasant enough, and I gave him points for that, but I could tell Archer was beginning to wear on his nerves.

  “Your superiors ran and approved my proposal,” Archer spat, anger boiling in his eyes. What was wrong with him? For the leader of the clan, he sure lacked control.

  “I wouldn't know. Profile assessment is not part of my duty.”

  “The approval and exercise of that proposal were required for the clan to lend this subject to the guild. This is a breech in contract.”

  I stiffened. Lent me? What was I, a toy, a car, some possession they could move around at will? Diggy sent me a warning glance, his eyes glittering with banked anger. He turned his attention back to Archer and spoke politely, but now that I'd seen the anger, I could also hear it in his voice, the way the vowels were clipped instead of measured as usual.

  “She's being primed to become a Hunter member. Her discipline will be in accordance. Any problem you have with that, you take up with Mackenzie. Meanwhile, I'm doing what I'm told, by my own superiors.”

  I gritted my teeth and kept my silence. I didn't like Archer, didn't like the fact that he was the head of the clan I supposedly belonged to, didn't like the fact I was a lowly subject required to follow rules I didn't agree with, or had knowledge about. But I remained silent.

  Archer's eyes didn't narrow, but the menace he oozed took focus, beat at my core. Was Diggy experiencing the same? Elizabeth placed a hand over Archer's arm, and the dangerous vibes he oozed lessened a few degrees.

  “I will certainly be taking this breach of trust up to Mackenzie, along with the insolence you exhibit.”

  Diggy inclined his head in acknowledgement, and at that Archer turned and began marching in the opposite direction, the couple with the brown aura and Elizabeth trailing behind.

  “Wow,” I said after people had dispersed, “that was intense.”

  Diggy shrugged, scanning the room. “It isn't smart to antagonize the head of your clan,” he said. “Especially when that person is Gerome Archer.”

  I stiffened at the reproach, even though I'd seen it coming. “He's not the boss of me.”

  “Technically, he is—”

  “And is he always like that? It seemed like he was itching for a fight,” I commented, cutting off what no doubt was to be a lesson on respectability.

  Diggy frowned. “I'm not sure. He did seem a little out of character.”

  “Maybe he shouldn't be here,” I suggested.

  Diggy grunted. “I don't think he'll break any rules tonight. And Logan is around, so…”

  He gestured and we moved toward the other side of the ballroom, away from Archer and Elizabeth. I didn't see where Logan went, but if he was here to keep trouble from brewing, he should have stuck around when Archer had approached us. He sure looked like he had murder in mind.

  “Why are they here anyway?” From what I understood from Vincent, Archer's estate and the clan's base was in Wyoming. Elizabeth lived down in California and Logan … we hadn't talked about him.

  Diggy shrugged again, placing his empty glass on a tray. “I heard they're looking for a missing scion.”

  I felt a chill skip down my spine. “What? Who?” Was it Mwara? God, don't say Mwara. Please, don't let it be Mwara.

  “Not sure exactly. But it's a young scion. A child, I think, from what I've been told. Rumor says she disappeared without a trace.”

  Something must have shown on my face because Diggy frowned, his eyes searching mine. “Is it true what he said?” I asked, not sure what my expression looked like. “That I was following a schedule approved by him, that I was lent to the Hunters like an inanimate object?”

  “Every member of a clan requires the approval of their superiors before they can join other preternatural groups. It's a rule implemented by every clan, every species.”

  “I don't remember asking Archer for that approval,” I said in a cool tone.

  “No, and whatever problem you have with that, you take up with Roland,” His tone was mild, an indication that he was edging close to the end of his patience.

  A glance toward the other end of the room revealed Elizabeth's gaze on me. From this distance I couldn't read the expression in her eyes, but I suspected it wasn't a friendly one.

  On Archer's other side stood Logan, his head cocked to the side, eyes fixed on me as he listened to what Archer was saying. The redhead stood beside him, her arms looped around his in a possessive manner.

  “Who's Cara?” I asked, tearing my eyes away from the group.

  Diggy paused, surprise registering for a second before disappearing. With the added four inches of heels, I was almost eye-to-eye with him.

  “Where did you hear that name?”

  “Rafael mentioned it once,” I replied. Back then, in the basement apartment that belonged to Diggy, I hadn't given it a second thought. It was seeing the redhead draped over Logan like a Christmas ornament that brought Rafael and Logan's hushed conversation back to mind.

  He looked away, his eyes distant, a small furrow between his brows. “She was Archer's daughter.”

  “Oh?” I said, surprised. “Was?”

  “Yes. She was killed a long time ago.”

  “By who?” I asked, though I had a suspicion.

  “Remo Drammen.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Two o'clock. White man, blonde hair, dressed in a white tuxedo, talking with a black-haired short guy,” Diggy murmured into a punch glass.

  We moved forward, pausing when the aura in question flickered into range.

  Blue. A touch paler than when it first appeared, now sky blue. A human aura.

  Regardless of the fact that only a handful of preternaturals were able to see auras, Diggy explained that during large gatherings, people felt paranoid enough to pay absurd sums of money on little charms to keep their identities anonymous.

  “Roland swears by them,” Diggy had said.

  “And you?”

  “Can't tell for sure, but George once mistook a vamp for ordinary, so it could be true.”

  As I watched the blue aura for a sign of what it was, I wondered if Roland was right.

  “Not human,” I murmured, stating the obvious.

  “Hmmm-mm,” Diggy agreed. “What else?” he asked, looking at the crowd.

  I took in the guy, trying to sense more. About my height sans the heels, 180 pounds of dense, solid build. The guy stood a few feet away, hands moving as he talked, eyes crinkling with humor at whatever the other guy replied. Suddenly, the guy looked up, found me watching, gave a winning smile.

  I nodded in acknowledgement and looked away. I counted, one, two… ten… fifteen and looked back. The guy had resumed his conversation with the shorter man, oblivious to my scrutiny.

  I directed my awareness ahead, in the general direction of the guy. I included a
few bystanders within that range, the way Diggy had instructed, and concentrated on the center part, where the guy with the white tuxedo stood.

  I took a tiny step back, another forward, feeling out his aura, tasting it with my other senses. Damn those heels, I thought when I had to fight to stay balanced.

  There was a sense of… of… damn, that was a strong charm. I tilted my head to the side, concentrating harder and trying to grasp that brief flicker. Nature, maybe an element. Could be a mage.

  The guy was still talking, oblivious of my senses engulfing him. Throwing his head back, he barked out a loud laugh, the shorter man gesturing animatedly, a crooked smile on his round face. I shifted again, back and forth, sensing something like a current … water? No, nothing so dense. Again I shifted and wondered what people would think if they were watching. Probably that I had to pee, and they wouldn't be far off the mark.

  The shimmer appeared again in the inner line of the aura, disappearing faster than I could make sense of the color. White? A glowing pale blue? Eyes narrowed, I focused my concentration harder.

  “Easy,” Diggy murmured, half shifting in front of me, ready to block the path should the guy sense my probe.

  And there it was, a swirling current, a twisting sensation. I would never have noticed it, never have thought to focus so hard to sense something I didn't know was there in the first, if Diggy hadn't indicated otherwise.

  “Try not to project something that isn't there. Tell me what you feel, what you sense. Trust your gut.”

  I shifted, back and forth.

  The aura flashed. Light blue. I felt that current again, something strong. Air, but more.

  “Air?” I guessed. “Tornados,” I added, feeling silly. “I feel something like tornados.”

  “Hmmm. More like a hurricane, but that's close enough,” Diggy approved. He motioned forward, towards the tables.

  More people had arrived, a couple hundred now, but there was still room for many more. My stomach rumbled, reminding me I hadn't eaten since lunch, and my bladder was starting to scream for a break.

  “Vemourly, you son of a bitch!” someone bellowed from behind us.

  We both tensed, ready for a confrontation. When we turned, Diggy was enveloped in a bear-hug by a giant of a man. There was a lot of back clapping and an exchange of filthy names. I relaxed, realizing no confrontation was about to take place, and stepped back, giving both men room.

  The guy was taller than Diggy, maybe around seven feet tall. His aura, which I'd already noticed, was green like that of a were. Some sort of hunting bird, but I couldn't decipher which exactly, a hawk, an eagle, or something of that variety. Could he fly, I wondered, awed at the possibility.

  I shifted my gaze to his companion, and in contrast to the hulking man, she was short and delicate, a petite woman with dark-auburn hair. Her unbound hair fell in delicate waves down her lower back and accentuated a creamy, porcelain complexion. If she wore make-up, it didn't show. She stood about five foot two, and despite being short, she was wearing strappy sandals with flat soles. Her deep-green eyes matched both the color of her aura and long sleeveless dress. She was smiling affectionately up at Diggy, a were-cat of some sort, a jungle one.

  And she reminded me of Lee.

  I retreated a few more steps, not sure if I was giving them privacy or putting distance between me and the woman, or what, and who, she reminded me of.

  “Boris. What are you doing here?” Diggy asked, his hazel eyes gleaming with delight.

  “The same as you. The food is incredible,” Boris replied with a booming voice that suited his size.

  Diggy snorted. “You're too cheap for that. You'd rather eat mice than pay for a meal.”

  “True enough. But you also know I don't pass up invitations, especially when fancy dinners and beautiful women are included.”

  Diggy shifted to the woman beside him, his smile widening. “Xandra. What a wonderful surprise.”

  Xandra stepped forward, throwing thin but firm arms around Diggy's shoulders, forcing him to bend a little to accommodate her. There was a golden bracelet around her right wrist, a big green rock I was sure was the real deal sparkling in the center. She brushed her lips against Diggy's cheek, first one, then the other before stepping back and looping one arm around his forearm. It was an intimate gesture, but not a romantic one.

  I took a few more steps away, fading into the background. Whoever these people were, they were dear to Diggy, part of his personal life. Something I was not. I gave him space, knowing he wouldn't want me to intrude.

  I looked around, searching for familiar faces, telling myself I wasn't searching for Logan. There were a lot of people in the ballroom, and although Diggy had managed to find some disguised auras, most weren't.

  A guy a few feet ahead and to the right stood alone, hands tucked inside his pockets, observing the crowd. His shoulders were broad underneath the suit, his hair, a mop of black gloss, curled around his ears and neck. His aura was sky-blue, completely human. I registered this, and continued surveying the crowd, then returned. Fixed on him. The aura was the blue of a clear sky, yet different, too thin to be normal. Less than half the usual size, actually, now that I looked closer. Disguised? Must be.

  With care, I shot my awareness in that direction, careful to include a few bystanders so not to be target specific. I waited, but the guy didn't tense, didn't seem to sense me. I shifted. Once, twice … four times. Kept my balance.

  To my surprise, there was nothing there. Nothing extraordinary. The guy felt human, completely so. A human amidst preternaturals.

  What do you see, what do you sense? Trust your instincts.

  To the eye, he was human – except for the fact that his aura was too thin, barely a line.

  I was about to shift back and forth again when I sensed… something. It wasn't a feeling, exactly, or an emotion, something my empathic sense would normally catch. No, it was something more, a presence, something more tangible.

  I closed my eyes and reached out, focused on it.

  A tiny touch like the whisper of a thrumming sound. Like static, something that, embarrassingly, I wouldn't have noticed if my bladder wasn't so full.

  Thrum thrum thrum thrum thrum.

  What was that, I wondered, just as I felt something warm and gentle brush across my awareness. Like a caress.

  Jerking, I opened my eyes and found the guy facing me. Still in his previous spot. Just a few feet away, hands deep inside his pockets, watching with deep, dark blue eyes set in a very masculine, appealing face. He had a strong jaw, a patrician nose, a slightly golden complexion. His posture suggested he was both relaxed and confident. With a body and face like that…

  He was handsome. His hair was almost long enough to be tied back, curling in whatever direction it chose. His eyebrows were thick , arching above those eyes, a shade of blue so dark, they seemed more violet than anything else.

  He was beautiful, if a man could be called so. So beautiful, I thought, embarrassed with the thought. The guy's eyebrows raised slowly, suggestively, a sensual smile tugging at his lips.

  There was something familiar about him. Had we met before?

  He cocked his head, puzzling me, and again that warm, gentle thrum brushed against my awareness. I jerked back, as if the touch had been as much physical as psychic, and glanced away, face heating with embarrassment.

  That's when I noticed the faint shimmer in Xandra's aura, a barely perceptible silvery sheen that marked her as something else. My eyes shifted to Boris's aura, but his lacked the shimmer. So did Diggy's. How much could I bet that both Xandra and Boris were from the Seelie Dhiultadh clan? A lot, because I'd win the bet.

  Diggy glanced up, a small smile tugging at his lips. It was genuine, and I realized I'd never seen it before. He motioned me forward. I shook my head, and the woman turned, smiling, her eyes warm and sincere.

  “Is that her?” she asked, hands outstretched.

  Unsure, I glanced away, caught the guy's knowing smirk, lo
oked back at the woman. Uncomfortable with all the attention, I took a step forward, then another.

  Her hands were soft and warm, and she didn't just take my hand and shake it in introduction, but pulled me forward for a close, fragrant hug before letting go and stepping back. “It's always good to meet Douglas' friends. We barely get to see him with all that work and traveling he does; he's like a stranger these days.” She pulled me into the group, her arm, slender but firm, still gripping mine. “Douglas says you two work together? I've always wanted to be a member, but Boris would have none of that and Douglas vetoed it.”

  I glanced at the big guy, who feigned a shudder at the idea. “And a favor to the world that is,” he said, winking. “I'm Boris, Xandra's mate.” He took my hand before I could extend it, pumped it twice, his hold firm and dry.

  “Doug says you're Roland's new recruit.”

  “That I am. I'm still learning the ropes.” I glanced at Diggy, now watching Xandra with an affectionate expression.

  It was something new, to see this tough guy with a genuine and open smile.

  “So how's being apprenticed by Doug feel like?” Boris asked, leaning down to eye me better.

  I shrugged. “Feels like I'm his punching bag,” I replied, to Xandra's and Boris' delight.

  Diggy scowled, but I only shrugged again. “It is true.”

  “That's because you refuse to learn.”

  “No, it's because you take out all your frustrations on me.”

  “Tell you what, sweetheart,” Boris said with a wink, “why don't you come over and let me teach you whatever Doug here is teaching you? I promise you I can teach you better, faster, even more.”

  I looked him up and down, his tree-trunk limbs, his thick neck, making a show of it, and shook my head. “Nah-uh, I'll take the devil I know.” Xandra burst out laughing.

  She hooked both arms around my forearm and smiled. “I like you already. Why don't you come over with Doug next weekend? We're getting together for dinner and a movie.” Sensing a refusal coming, she added, “I'd love to get to know you. Being around those brutes with no girl company gets tedious.”

  I hesitated, not wanting to seem rude, but getting inside Diggy's personal life was something I was sure he wouldn't appreciate. Meeting his friends and being introduced by chance was one thing; agreeing to meet with them later was something else.

 

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