“No, I ... God. What are you?” Willoby’s voice trembled. Sweat coated the front of his shirt.
“God won’t help you now.” Viv smiled, the sight more frightening than a Halloween ghoul. “See, usually when we find someone like you, we turn them over to the human authorities. Well, we make sure the humans find the trail. But you ... well, you’re special.”
“No, I’m not. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
Once again his voice cut off and he grabbed his neck. Viv hadn’t even needed to flick her wrist. She had his frequency.
Moira’s stomach sank. Conn shouldn’t see this. He shouldn’t know what they could do ... what she could do. Viv had cut off the guy’s air supply without blinking an eyelash. It was just the beginning.
Viv grabbed a wooden gavel. “You’re a rapist, aren’t you, Thomas?”
“No, I er—” Willoby choked, his shoulders shuddering. Then he gasped in air. “Yes.” He began to sob. “I’m sorry. I need help.”
Viv nodded slowly. “I’m here to help you.”
“Thank you.” He bowed his head.
“June Frank is one of ours, Thomas. She’s mated to one of my people.” Viv paled. “You hurt her.”
“I’m sorry.” His shoulders shook with the force of his sobs. “I’ll find help and won’t hurt anyone else. I promise.”
“Good to know.” Viv raised her hands high in the air. “So you confess to the rape of the women I’ve mentioned?”
“Yes.”
“Name the others. So we can find them help.”
Blubbering, pausing to sniff, he recited a list of names that made Moira’s knees weaken. So many names.
Finally, he stopped. “That’s all.”
“Thank you for your confession,” Viv said quietly. She waited until Willoby lifted his head, snorting loudly. Then she held out her hands. “Good-bye.”
Willoby half rose on his knees, an unholy screech shooting from him and bouncing through the screen. His body convulsed. Black tar cascaded out of his ears, running down his bare neck.
Conn growled low, shifting to the side, planting his body between Vivienne and Moira.
Willoby lurched forward, rolling to his back and convulsing like a fish thrown from a bowl. Thick, black ink poured from his nostrils, eyes, and wide-open mouth. A toxic film of mist wafted from him.
Moira sucked down bile, fighting the need to turn away. Conn pivoted to face her. His broad shoulders blocked her view of the dead man and the Coven Nine. The pupils in his eyes contracted, allowing the deep green to darken. An unrelenting question lived in their depths bordering on a hard warning. A statement with no words.
She lifted her chin.
He held her gaze as the soldiers dragged Willoby out of the faraway room, leaving a trail of oozing black in the body’s wake. Gracefully, too quickly to track, Conn pivoted to face the council.
Moira slid forward to stand on even ground with him. She was the last person who needed to be shielded. Cutting her eyes to the side, she viewed her mate. Gone was the alert anger, the dark warning. He faced the council, a polite smile on his lips, his eyes betraying nothing. If anything, the man looked bored.
Viv pounded with the gavel. “I apologize for that nasty business.” The screen went black, returning to stone. “Let’s officially call the meeting of the Council of the Coven Nine to order.”
Grace tapped the keyboard again. Individual screens rose from the floor to cover the same wall. Simone instantly filled one, the screen casting a slight green tinge to her pale skin and yet somehow enhancing her deep black eyes. She’d pulled her dark curls away from her face, highlighting a worried frown.
The second screen sputtered, and slowly a thin male form took shape. Trevan nodded, his intelligent eyes sparkling with concern.
Viv nodded. “Good. We found you. All right. The meeting is now called to order. First item on the agenda is our missing members.”
Simone stepped closer to the camera. “We’ve lost four council members within the last year, Mother. Have the enforcers figured out what’s going on or not?” Anger sparked her flawless skin a deep red, and fear pinched her full lips.
Vivienne sat and focused on them. “Kell? Moira? What have you discovered?”
A blast of rage slammed into Moira so hard her breath caught. She cut her gaze to Conn, who stood with no expression on his face, shoulders back, stance relaxed. But fury blazed. As his mate, she burned. Maybe she should’ve informed him about her temporary employment as an enforcer.
Kell clasped his hands behind his back. “Whoever is taking coven members has figured out a way to transport them somewhere. They tried to take Moira earlier.”
Her mother gasped, green eyes widening. “Are you all right?”
Moira smiled. “I’m fine, Mother. Truly.”
“This is unbelievable, Brigid.” Vivienne patted her sister’s hand. Her voice rang with authority and power. “How is this possible?”
“We don’t know.” Kell’s jaw hardened. “But since they’re now after the Seventh, we need to find out, and quick, to prevent losing her.”
“No.” Moira straightened her shoulders, ignoring the sudden stiffening of Conn’s body. She’d considered the situation carefully and could only find one solution. “Next time, we let them take me. I can find the others.” Or at least what happened to them.
In the meantime, she was working on an identification spell to recognize the energy signature of whoever was creating the abyss.
“Hell, no,” Conn said, his deep voice echoing around the chamber. “My mate will not be used as bait. With all due respect.” His tone hinted respect might be temporary.
Vivienne’s eyes flashed. “You’re here as a courtesy, Prince Kayrs. Don’t forget it.”
Conn smiled, slow and sure.
Moira’s heart kicked into gear. She placed a quieting hand against his arm.
He quickly covered it with his own. “That leads me to my purpose for being here, Councilwoman Northcutt.”
Vivienne’s face settled into solicitous lines. “Which would be?”
“Is the Coven Nine planning to withdraw from the Realm?” Conn asked in the polite tone of a bank robber requesting cash.
Dead silence dropped throughout the chamber. Moira tried unsuccessfully to tug her hand from under his, but his bicep flexed, trapping her.
He did not ask that question. He couldn’t have asked that question. Did he not just witness a man’s organs turn to black tar in his body? “What the hell happened to diplomacy?” she muttered out the side of her mouth.
“It’s overrated,” he volleyed back.
Only for the fucking Kayrs family. Those men wouldn’t know diplomacy if it blew up their homes. Go in fast and hard ... and screw the consequences. While Moira appreciated the technique, the method threatened to draw a line down the center of her world. She had nowhere to safely land.
Vivienne settled back, her hands clasped on the smooth stone. “Yes.”
Surprise grounded Moira in place. Well. Cards on the table then.
Conn nodded. “Why?”
“Why?” A rosy flush crossed Vivienne’s face. “The king demanded our people train under yours. We align with the Realm. We do not answer to it.”
“Councilwoman. We’re dealing with a new threat, a new breed of werewolf created by Virus-27. An animal that was formerly a shifter, with all the strength, intelligence, and downright cunning held by shifters.” Conn swept a hand out. “No longer are werewolves human converts that die within a year. We all need to train for a new war. Together.”
Trevan cleared his throat, the sound echoing oddly through the screen. “I vehemently protest the king’s order. Statistically, anytime troops have trained under a new leader, many have transferred allegiance to that leader. King Kayrs knows this.”
Conn’s smile lacked warmth. “Councilman, while I appreciate your ... scholarly analysis of the situation, I can assure you, we don’t want to steal your soldiers. The king merel
y wants them properly trained for the new threat.”
Moira eyed Trevan. The guy had no clue about training or battlefields.
Vivienne shook her head. “We train alone, Prince. Besides, the king let humans know about us—about our world, about our science and genetics. He’s lucky he’s still breathing.” She shuddered as if surprised she’d said the words aloud.
Conn stepped forward. “I’d be very careful with your words, were I you, Councilwoman.” His voice lowered to a deadly softness rumbling with power. “Threatening my king is a colossal mistake.”
Peter shot to his feet. “Threatening a member of the Nine will get you killed before you breathe another molecule, Kayrs.”
Moira yanked her hand free, pressing both palms out. “Whoa. Everyone take a step back. We need each other. The Kurjans are perfecting the virus, the demons are at war with us all, and now some unknown entity is yanking the unwilling through dimensions to God knows where.” She sucked in a deep breath. “Everyone relax.”
Pete’s gaze hardened. “The virus doesn’t affect witches, Moira.”
“You sure about that?” Conn asked.
“We will be.” Vivienne lifted her chin. “The virus attacks the twenty-seventh chromosome of shifters and vampire mates. Probably demon mates, though they won’t admit it.” She yanked a file up from the floor, flipping it open. “Vampires with their thirty chromosomal pairs seem safe, as do witches with our twenty-nine.”
“We don’t actually know that.” Conn’s voice remained level, steady. “The current conclusion of the smartest people on the planet is that the thirtieth chromosome, held only by vampires, Kurjans, and demons, is the one that protects us from the virus. Councilwoman, neither you nor your people have that chromosome.”
Moira swallowed. Conn had a point, and a good one. The idea of losing her abilities, of being taken down to a mere human, boiled anger in her gut. The Kurjans needed to be eliminated from the world—for good—which is why she needed to preserve the alliance with the Realm. Regardless of her mating.
Conn settled his stance. “For the record, no humans know about any of us. We’ve used their expertise to research the genetic ramifications of this virus. They have no idea what they’re dealing with.”
Moira nodded. “I spoke with Kane Kayrs last week. Along with the king’s mate, he’s leading the team searching for a cure. They have used well-educated humans to research, but these people are in a different lab, and each is only studying one tiny aspect of the situation. They remain unaware beings other than humans exist.” Kane had been matter-of-fact when they’d spoken, and she believed him.
“In addition, Dage requested your soldiers for training. He didn’t demand anything.” Conn clasped his hands behind his back. “If you’re concerned about other soldiers discovering your powers ... well ... it’s too late. I have those powers, and the king is well aware of them.”
Moira snapped her teeth together. Did the damn man want the Nine to cut off his head right here and now? “I’m sure the king is discreet.”
Peter cleared his throat. “You’re an old friend, Moira, and I mean no disrespect. But you’re mated to a Kayrs. As an enforcer, the power you’re collecting makes you a definite threat. We need to be certain of your allegiance.”
It was the last question she wanted to answer. “I took an oath as an enforcer, Peter.” The choice to use his first name was deliberate, and brought a tightening to his lips. “While you may not understand that oath, I do.” Yeah, She had power. Right now she wanted to prove it to him by turning him into a frog. Not possible, yet the idea calmed her.
Peter sat back, his hands clasped before him on the tablet. “I understand the oath, Moira. Does your mate?”
Conn tightened his hold. “While I haven’t read the oath, considering everything you people do is shrouded in secrecy, I assume it’s similar to the oath of my soldiers. To give all to the cause.”
Viv tapped a pencil on the stone. “Close enough. What if this comes down to war? Moira, there will be no choice for you.”
Conn growled low enough only Moira heard. “Should we go to war, Councilwoman, I can assure you my mate would adhere to any vow. She’s the most honorable person I know.”
Warmth filled Moira’s heart. Quite an endorsement from the prince. “Thank you,” she murmured softly.
“And you, Connlan?” Brigid spoke up, her head tilted to the side. “You’d align against your mate?”
Moira shuffled her feet. “Mother—”
“No.” Conn’s voice rang deep and true. “I would not align against my mate.” His smile lacked any semblance of humor. “I would, however, take her away from danger, away from you.”
Temper and amusement rose in Moira equally. “I believe that’s a debate for another day. For now, we need to find the missing coven members.”
The lights flared and the two screens went blank.
“Damn it,” Vivienne hissed. “What in the hell is wrong with the system?”
Grace shrugged, typing rapidly on a keyboard out of Moira’s sight. “We’re down again.” She rolled dark brown eyes at the leader. “I’ll take notes and e-mail them to Trevan and Simone. Let’s finish this meeting.”
Peter reclaimed his seat. “I’m not convinced we need to send our soldiers to train with the vampires. In addition, last time I checked, the Kurjans and the demons are at war with the Realm. If we withdraw, we’re no longer at war.”
Conn growled low. “You’ve been discussing the situation with the demons, have you?”
Moira frowned. “Of course not.” She focused on her aunt, waiting for Viv to agree.
She remained quiet.
Holy hell. Moira’s eyes widened. “You’ve been in negotiations with the demons? Seriously? They employ the worst mind warfare tactics imaginable. Surely we can’t be aligning with them.”
“The decisions of the Nine are private, Moira.” Vivienne’s jaw hardened. “If you’d like to take your rightful place up here and stop playing around with the enforcers, then do it.”
“That’s enough, Viv.” Moira’s mother pinned her sister with a glare. “My daughter has been one of the most successful enforcers in history these last thirty years. Don’t even think of downplaying her accomplishments.”
Yea. Go mom. Moira lifted her chin. “Aligning with the demons is preposterous.” Not to mention an incredibly bad decision. The demons screwed with their enemies’ brains ... they destroyed minds. While they might align themselves with the witches for a time, no doubt they’d turn at some point. The mere thought of her abilities in the hands of the demons crawled terror down her spine. “Such an alliance is tantamount to declaring war on the Realm.”
“I’m aware of that.” Vivienne glanced at Conn and back to Moira. “The Realm is weak. The Kurjans have been preparing for war for centuries, and now the demons have joined in. Not to mention the shifter clans coming after you since the king allowed Caleb Donovan back in the fold.”
Moira fought the urge to scream. She understood why Dage let his old friend, who came with numerous allies, back into the Realm. The man had been unjustly blamed for the death of a prophet centuries ago. Ironically enough, Caleb had been claimed by fate as a prophet last year. A fact she’d heard he was denying loudly and often.
Conn rolled his shoulders back. “The Realm isn’t weak, Councilwoman. Not by a long shot. While rejoining forces with Caleb angered the demons, as well a few shifting clans, the forces he brought with him strengthened us tenfold.”
Moira nodded. Caleb’s brother had mated with a lion shifter who’d been betrothed to a demon, angering several clans. He’d been fighting them along with the demons for a century. Currently he had Realm backing. “Let’s not forget Caleb is now a prophet for the Realm.” A position none of them would dispute.
Vivienne inclined her head. “We are so aware. The Nine must still consider all options.” She focused back on the enforcers. “For now, we need to solidify our power base. Kell, you go to Greece and esco
rt Trevan here. Moira, please retrieve your cousin from New York.” Viv raised an eyebrow at Conn. “I assume you’ll be accompanying her?”
“You assume correct.”
Great. Moira frowned. “You want me to leave Ireland?” That didn’t make any sense. She eyed her mother, who stared back without expression. A warning set up at the base of Moira’s skull. She didn’t want to leave her homeland.
Viv grabbed a manila file, tapping it several times. “No. I want you to do your job as an enforcer and escort a member of the Coven Nine here to safety.”
Not much leeway there. Moira had Conn, her bitchy cousin, and her irritated aunt to deal with. What else could go wrong?
Chapter 7
The scent of lilac and musty books filled Conn’s nostrils as he glanced around Moira’s spacious office at the academy. “Do you also need to submit grades at the University of Dublin before we leave town?” His mate taught at both the human university and the witch center of higher learning. He ran his finger over a crystal ornament of a fairy perched in front of books on the shelf. He’d sent the priceless gem to Moira last year when she’d been promoted to full professor at the Quantum academy, a university known only to magic users.
Her shoulders jumped, as if she’d been expecting another question. “No. I turned the human grades in last week.” She licked a manila envelope, scrunching her nose afterwards. “Damn glue tastes horrible.”
Wheels from her chair squeaked when she pushed back from the alder-wood desk. Anyone in the hallway would know when she was sitting in her chair. Conn needed to teach her more about stealth. “You’d think with all the advancements in computers, we wouldn’t need to file a hard copy of grades with the dean.” She stood, rolling her eyes.
Conn snorted. “Magic users are notorious for hacking computers. Your dean is smart.” Celestial light glinted off the pretty figurine, and he turned toward the night. The shade slats revealed large windows overlooking a quaint courtyard bathed in moonlight. He’d held her hand under the moonlight a century ago as he’d led her away from the festivities—toward destiny.
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