Shadow's Curse

by Jami Gray

  “Leopold DiMarcco and Corwin Westbrooke,” Raine murmured. “Would they work together?”

  “I highly doubt it,” Carys said. “DiMarcco is a traditionalist in every sense of the word. He’s held his position on the Council the longest.”

  Carys’s answer left Natasha perched on the edge of some pivotal realization. One she probably wouldn’t be able to identify until much later, but the impression lingered. Instead of dwelling on it, she said, “Which means, if the Kyn decide to change directions and reveal themselves to the humans, his proclivities will come under scrutiny. That is not a light he will want to be under.”

  “Let me guess,” Raine cut in. “He believes in keeping the Kyn bloodlines as pure as possible?”

  Natasha gave her a small smile. “He’d never be so crass as to state it quite so bluntly, but yes. Under his very tactful rhetoric beats the heart and soul of a bigot, one who fanatically believes the Kyn should be the dominant race. To him, humans are disposable, easily controlled. Yet, he’s not above using whatever tools he can to accomplish his end goals.” She had been up close and personal with DiMarcco’s viciousness before, and the end results were disastrous.

  “Even humans?” Gavin asked.

  “Even humans.”

  “Sounds like a prime candidate for our troublemaker,” he drawled.

  Even though part of her agreed with Gavin, she shook her head. “It’s almost too neat.” Plus she needed to ensure her own history didn’t interfere with their current evaluations of the players.

  “And Westbrooke?” Raine asked.

  Carys tucked her legs under her, adjusting her position until she fully faced Raine and Gavin. “Best guess, he’s vying for a position on the Council.”

  A brief quiet filled the library as the impact of Carys’s observation filtered through those gathered.

  Raine finally broke it. “And since there aren’t any current openings, he’s going to create one?”

  It reassured Natasha to see the girl held a firm grasp on just how brutal Kyn politics could be. “Exactly. Not only does he have the ear of many Kyn leaders through Europe and America, but he works regularly with the human governments. These relationships could prove very vital to the future of the Kyn. All he would need to complete his control is have sway over the Council. Since he’s popular with leaders on both sides, it wouldn’t take much to accomplish that.”

  Gavin laced his hands behind his head and slouched a little farther into the sofa, studying the ceiling. “And how does having a modern-thinking Kyn on the Council, who the mortal leaders already look to, become a bad thing?”

  And this appeal was why Westbrooke could be so dangerous. “A wolf in sheep’s clothing,” Natasha murmured.

  Her comment brought the room’s attention back to her.

  “Westbrooke is very good at appearing to be the charming mediator.” She leaned forward. “He can walk the political lines with unerring balance and grace, but what you’ll never see is the shift of his foot as he trips those beside him, or the not so helpful nudge off the edge. He may claim to want what’s best for the Kyn, but in actuality he has only one concern—himself. When the dust settles, he wants to be the one manipulating the puppet strings, no matter if those strings control the humans or the Kyn. If he achieves his goal of a Council seat, mark my words, within ten years there won’t be one familiar face sitting at that table.”

  Gavin dropped his dismissive pose and sat up, listening. “If that’s true, why hasn’t he been caught?”

  “Hard to catch someone if all the witness and victims are dead or missing.”

  “But you know about him.”

  She nodded. “True, but I have nothing but hearsay and assumptions. Nothing concrete to bring to the Council. Plus, while it may answer who’s behind the concentrated efforts to weaken the Northwest Kyn, it still doesn’t solve who’s sowing seeds of discontent in my house. The chances are good we could be facing more than one opponent.”

  “From what you’ve indicated, either DiMarcco or Westbrooke have enough sway to hit us from multiple fronts,” Raine piped up. “Hell, they could use our own people against us.”

  Her comment reminded Natasha of Jared’s fractured memories, and a piece of the puzzle slid into place with a soft, but resonating click. “They probably are.”

  That comment brought every individual in the room on point. Only Gavin asked the question they all wondered about. “Who?”

  And there lay the problem. “I don’t know. Yet.” One thing at time. “To pinpoint the Council’s mole, we need to unravel the web surrounding us.”

  “If we can uncover who’s betraying us, we could use them to lead us to which of the three is really behind this mess.”

  Too much anticipation hovered in Raine’s observation. Perhaps Natasha should make sure Gavin kept watch over the wildcat once their rat was caught.

  “We need to be sure. Some of these trails could be false.” Personal experience taught her a valuable lesson on that nasty tactic. One favored by some Council members. “We may find that things aren’t what they seem, and we may not be the only ones being fooled.”

  “Careful, Natasha,” Carys warned. “Just because Darius serves the Order, doesn’t mean he can’t work alongside a Council member. If any of the three are behind this, they’d have no problems setting each other up.”

  Gavin looked between both women. “Or setting up Darius.”

  It wasn’t a question, but still, Natasha answered, “Or setting up Darius. Perhaps when he realizes that, we may find ourselves with a rather weighty ally.”

  “If we’re on the same side.” An appreciative calculation glittered in Gavin’s gaze. “And if he’s against us?”

  She let her lips stretch, revealing a sharp, predatory grin. “Then it’s time to even our odds.”

  “We’ll need to update Cheveyo and Vidis,” Carys said. “We have too many wolves circling to waste time. We’ll have to plan our approach to Darius.”

  Natasha gave her a nod then switched her attention to Raine and Gavin. “The Wraiths must hunt. We need solid connections. Find out what Sullivan and Cleo knew that necessitated their deaths. Comb through Jared Pick’s associates and link them to whoever was whispering in Sullivan’s ear. Figure out how Brant Sutler ties in, before his body shows up. We need all the information on what Axel found out before he disappeared, because I’d bet if we put all the pieces together, we’re going to come up with a name.”

  “And Abazi?” Raine asked.

  Natasha shared a look with Carys, getting a subtle nod in return. “Leave him to us.” Unfolding from the couch, she got to her feet, indicating that the impromptu meeting was over. The other three rose as well. “Gavin, would you be so kind as to let me know the minute you find anything new?”

  “I’ll keep you updated.” As the silencing spell rippled away, he turned to Carys. “Are you staying here?”

  She waved him off. “Don’t worry about me, Natasha and I are big girls.”

  “Besides, Darius will be returning shortly,” Natasha added. “I’m sure he wouldn’t do anything overtly threatening to the two of us.”

  Gavin looked between the two of them. “Should I be concerned?”

  Natasha only smiled.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Darius stepped into his room at Natasha’s as dawn finally breached the horizon. The early morning light joined forces with a soft rain to create a watercolor painting of pastel colors against his window. He and Zayn spent over an hour debating the wisdom of revealing their suspicions to the Northwest Kyn. While Darius was convinced it was the right move, Zayn stubbornly insisted neither of them could afford the Council catching wind of their shifting allegiance, especially when they weren’t sure how many moles the Council had within the Northwest’s ranks.

  His brother’s pigheadedness left Darius gritting his teeth. His finely honed survival instincts whispered they were running out of time and if they didn’t get their pieces in line, they would lose
before the battle truly began. Yet, no matter how much Darius pushed, he couldn’t get Zayn to budge.

  Darius had finally given up and returned, hoping some breathing room would allow him to find a way around Zayn. Under his skin, his demon snarled and clawed, frustration and exhaustion never a good influence on a demon’s temper. The smell of bacon drew him to the door. Opening it, he wandered to the head of the stairs, the murmur of feminine voices reeled him down to the kitchen.

  He passed the darken living room, absently noting the plywood covering the hole left by the Half-Bound. He stepped into the kitchen and, in sync, the blonde and redhead turned to face him from the counter.

  He leaned against the entryway and folded his arms across his chest. “Natasha, Carys, good morning.”

  “Mr. Abazi,” Carys acknowledged, her voice as cool as her gaze. “I assume your councilman is all safe and sound.”

  “His night was much quieter than ours.”

  “Help yourself to breakfast.” Natasha waved a hand toward the stove while Carys raised a delicate teacup to her lips. “Carys and I were just discussing some pressing business matters.”

  Considering the sharp speculation of both females, he found himself very curious as to what transpired in his absence. And something had definitely happened. As he made his way to the stove, he took a surreptitious glance around. Nothing seemed out of place. No new damage.

  He opened a cupboard, found glasses, closed it, moved to the next, and found plates. Taking one down, he loaded it with scrambled eggs, decorated with chopped peppers, then added a few slices of bacon to the side. As he dished up the food, he could feel the combined weight of the women’s gazes on his back and barely managed to keep from hunching his shoulders. It wasn’t until he was he fixing a cup of coffee that they resumed their conversation.

  “How long before the contracts are ready for approval?” Natasha’s voice remained low, but clear.

  Cup in hand, he reclaimed his plate and took the seat on Natasha’s other side.

  “With the negotiated terms, we should have the final copies by late Monday. I have my team working on the materials Division sent over as well.” Carys made a notation on the tablet in front of her with a small stylus.

  Natasha’s nails tapped lightly against the rim of her coffee cup. “Are you having issues with Osborn?”

  Carys shook her head. “No, but I have concerns with some of the details Division is considering sharing with the public on what happened at the nightclub. I spoke to Xander to clarify some points, but the way Division’s report reads could open up us to unnecessary litigation.”

  Natasha frowned. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Nothing yet, but I’ll let you know if that changes.” Carys tapped a few more times on the screen then closed the cover of her tablet. “We’ll need to set aside some more time to go over the recent set of contracts from Sterling as well. They’re requesting a long-term security detail, but their non-disclosure agreement is questionable.”

  “Ask Rachel to schedule a time for us to meet, possibly Tuesday.” A discrete chime sounded. Next to him, Natasha shifted, pulled out a slim phone, and checked the screen. “It seems your ride has arrived.”

  “Lovely.” Carys took one last sip of her coffee and pushed her cup away. “You’ll be in later?”

  “This afternoon. Hopefully, I’ll have more to share.”

  Carys rose, tugging her sweater into place. “I wish you luck then.”

  The peculiar note in Carys’s voice drew Darius’s attention. He lifted his head, fork half way to his mouth, to find a complacent smile on Natasha’s face, while Carys sported a pleasantly neutral expression.

  “Something I should know about, darling?” he drawled, torn between amusement and irritation.

  The two were up to something, but they weren’t letting him in to play just yet. After dealing with Zayn, Darius’s normal patience for games was quite exhausted.

  “Don’t worry, nothing nefarious here, we’re simply dealing with challenging business decisions. Are you always so grumpy in the mornings?” Natasha asked, a provocative light in her eyes.

  Whatever she had planned must be big, because the minx was proud of herself. “Mornings seem to be a busy time around here.”

  “Much easier to accomplish things with a fresh mind,” Natasha murmured, pushing to her feet.

  “I’ll keep that in mind for future reference.” He remained seated, finishing his breakfast and sipping his coffee

  “I’ll walk you out,” Natasha said to Carys. Together the two headed to the front door. Her voice drifted back to Darius. “I’m interested to see what you find out.”

  The heavy door closed behind them, cutting off their voices and his chances of catching anything more. He sat, enjoying his coffee and the momentary quiet as Natasha saw Carys off. He finished his breakfast, took the plate to the sink, and rinsed it. Knowing Natasha would take her time, if for no other reason than to keep him waiting, he gathered his coffee and roamed to the other side of the house. It didn’t take him long to find the library he discovered on his first go through.

  He sank onto the small sofa situated between two comfortable chairs. He rested his coffee on his knee and let his head fall back, closing his eyes. Under the soothing silence, some of the night’s tensions began to bleed away. For such a volatile woman, Natasha’s home was quite serene and he found it comforting. This unusual peace offered an escape from the demands of reality. Perhaps that was the reason she guarded it so zealously.

  Minutes ticked by before the muted sound of the front door opening and closing reached him. It wasn’t long after that he felt her standing in the doorway, watching him. He slit his eyes open. “You’ve been a busy girl.”

  “Business stops for no one.” Instead of taking a seat, she remained in the doorway. She leaned her shoulder against the doorjamb and folded her arms across her chest, settling in to watch him.

  He let the quiet stretch between them, recognizing the waiting game for what it was. He studied her fine-boned face, noting the brush of lavender shadows under her eyes and the slight slump to her shoulders, visible tolls from the long night. Considering the same weight perched on his own shoulders, he decided to forego the games and finally get some answers. “What are you up to, darling?”

  “What makes you think I’m up to something, pet?”

  “Instinct.”

  “Perhaps your instincts are off.”

  He sighed. “I wouldn’t be who I am if they were.” He narrowed his eyes as she hummed a questioning note under her breath. Yes, something was definitely up. “What did Gavin bring you?”

  “Why the sudden interest?”

  “Do you realize in the handful of hours since I’ve made my presence known, I’ve stood over two eviscerated bodies and crushed a Half-Bound demon?”

  She shrugged those delicate shoulders. “We wouldn’t want you to get bored.”

  “Oh, I’m very far from bored. I’m curious.”

  “About?”

  “What you plan to do to stop those who are hunting you.”

  “Who’s asking, Darius? You or Zayn?”

  “Does it matter?” Seemed his little queen was beginning to put the pieces together. If so, Zayn would need to tread very carefully. And, perhaps, so would he.

  “Very much so.” Voiced low and soft, there was no hiding the lethal edge under her answer. “I’m very particular about who I choose to work with these days. I’ve found some relationships are not worth the headaches they bring.”

  Something had changed in his absence. Something serious enough for her to move beyond the verbal parrying they indulged in for the last day or so.

  He leaned forward and set his now-forgotten cup on the low-slung table. “Yet some bring unexpected benefits.” He took advantage of the opening she gave him. “Like your relationship with Mulcahy.”

  Grief and anger lit those indigo eyes and brought much needed color to her cheekbones. Instead of snapping, she dipped
her head in a silent nod. “Or yours with Zayn.”

  How much had she gleaned from his blood? Would it be enough to work around Zayn’s stubborn refusal to come forward? “Friendship are very rare in our world.”

  Her lips twisted slightly. “So is loyalty.”

  He refused to give her any more, not until he could figure out where she was headed with this.

  The silence grew. Her attention drifted to the window on the far end of the library. “Do you think he knew?” Echoes of loss whispered through her question.

  Strangely, he had no problem following her jump in conversation. “About his death?” He kept his voice soft.

  She turned back to him, allowing him a glimpse of the upheaval Mulcahy’s death left behind. “He had a way of seeing things before they happened. Do you think he knew?”

  He didn’t answer right away, but gave it thought. “He once told me that being able to see the future was a tricky business, so he never fully believed in what he saw. He never took it at face value, said the future was fluid, changing from moment to moment. I don’t know if he did, but I know he wouldn’t have shared if he had. He wouldn’t put that on those he left behind.”

  In the quiet room her small sigh sounded overly loud. She straightened and glided over to claim one of the chairs. “Why did you let Ryan leave the Order?”

  Her unexpected question left him choosing his words carefully. “Once he made up his mind, it was smart not to stand in his way.” Anyone who dealt with Mulcahy knew that.

  She shook her head. “I don’t want platitudes. Every leader understands the importance of their people. None want to lose them. Ryan was a key component to numerous missions for the Order. You’re the Order’s leader. Why would you let him walk away?”

  Sitting back, he stretched one arm along the back of the couch and considered her. “You give me too much credit. Mulcahy recruited me. Why would you think I could have stopped him?”

  She held his gaze, studying him. “Because, he trusted you.”

  He let his lips curl up. “So certain of that?”