Shadow's Curse

by Jami Gray

  Her gaze slipped to his hand, and the silver ring resting there, then rose back to his face. A silent but pointed statement. She remained quiet, waiting. A tactic she probably learned from Mulcahy.

  A burst of memories of other times, other places, other situations where one of the few men he ever considered a friend had challenged him in the same silent way. The eroding combination of anger and grief scored a new gash across his heart before he managed to stuff it back into its box. “When he decided he wanted to move on, I tried to convince him to stay. No matter how hard or long I argued, I couldn’t get him to change his mind. He made it clear that as soon as he finished his current assignment, he was gone.”

  “Did you ask him why?”

  “Repeatedly.”

  When he didn’t elaborate, she pushed, “Did he ever answer you?”

  “One night, in a Turkish Bath.” He leaned back and rubbed a hand over his face, stifling a yawn. “It was pure coincidence. I had tracked my quarry to this particular establishment. When I went in to ask around, I found Mulcahy.” He smiled in memory of Mulcahy’s disgruntled expression when Darius had stepped into the steam room. “He wasn’t in the best of moods. He’d been tasked with his current assignment by one of the Council, but it was turning out to be stickier than anticipated. He thought I was sent in by another interested party. When he finally accepted I wasn’t there to play shadow, we got to talking. This time when I asked, he answered.”

  He fell silent, memories coming back as if had been days instead of years—the remembered feel of humid heat curling over him, offering a false sense of privacy. The lingering scents of soaps, melted candle wax, and lotions added a tantalizing layer to the air. And Mulcahy, towel wrapped around his lean waist, sprawled on the bench, considering him through half-closed eyes…

  “If you’re not here to check up on me, Darius,” his friend drawled, “what brings you here?”

  Darius’s skin itched with the thin layer of dust that somehow settled between every piece of clothing and his flesh. Gods, how he wished he had time to join Mulcahy and wash this crap off.

  “Callipso’s favorite servant disappeared about the same time as some very sensitive letters,” Darius said. “So far, I’ve tracked them here.”

  The twist of Ryan’s lips couldn’t be called a smile, more a disillusioned grimace. “Let me guess, Callie’s worried her letters will find their way to her husband.”

  Darius snorted. “If only it was that simple. She’s worried they’ll end up in the hands of her lover’s husband.”

  Ryan shook his head. “Someday, that woman will end up dancing with the wrong partner at the wrong time and her father won’t be able to help.”

  “For now, being a Councilman’s daughter is keeping her safe.”

  The harsh bark of laughter cut through the quiet bath. “How much longer do you think it will be before the Order will be nothing more than the Council’s cleanup crew?”

  Darius leaned against one of the tiled walls and studied his friend. “Is this why you want to leave?”

  A flash of teeth flicked through the curls of steamed air. “Partially. The Order was founded to serve as a check to the Council and a way to ensure the Kyn’s survival. Hard to do if we’re running around wiping childish asses and cleaning up their messes.”

  Darius tucked his hands behind his back as frustration curled his hands into useless fists. “You leaving the Order won’t help.”

  A glint of sympathy sparked then disappeared behind Mulcahy’s composed mask. “The world is changing, my friend, and leaving the Council behind. If our people are to survive, they need options, something besides hiding. We have to find a balance with the humans, or we’ll die under the hands of both humans and our own misguided leaders. The first step is to carve out our own place in the New World and, right now, I’m one of the few who can do it without pissing off the Council. My leaving the Order gives our people a fighting chance.”

  “So you’ll abandon the Order?”

  Genuine humor lightened the shadows on Mulcahy’s face. “No, I’m giving it to the one person I know who’ll ensure its mission won’t be corrupted.”

  Tired, frustrated, and tangled up with resentment, Darius didn’t bother hiding his sneer of contempt. “Who’s the lucky bastard?”

  He should’ve been warned by the beatific smile, but still the answer shocked him. “You.”

  “Darius?” His name in feminine tones dragged him away from the past. “Darius?”

  He captured the small hand waving in front of his face and blinked.

  Natasha knelt in front of him, her other hand a warm weight on his knee for balance. Periwinkle eyes met his, setting him solidly in the present. “You back with me?” He dropped his chin in a short nod and slowly released her. “Why did Ryan leave the Order?” she asked. More than curiosity lurked in her alluring face.

  “To save the Kyn.” His answer was rough. Hindsight was always twenty-twenty. He could see the value of Mulcahy’s decisions now, but then—then it had been difficult to accept.

  A frown creased Natasha’s brow. “He had to know the Council wouldn’t just let him walk away.”

  “Not without a price.” The woman was damn beautiful, even tired and exhausted. Unable to resist the temptation to touch, he traced a finger along the side of her jaw, feeling the slide of silky warmth against his finger. “The Council doesn’t let anyone walk away,” he murmured, letting his hand fall. If the arrogant bastards did, his brother wouldn’t be walking such a tight line.

  She tilted her head to the side in silent question.

  “I don’t know what price they asked of Mulcahy,” he answered. “Whatever it was, he paid it in full, but they never took their eyes off of him.”

  “So which ones weren’t happy with his decision?” A new inflection appeared under her question, adding an unexpected weight to his answer.

  He began to get a glimmer of where she was headed. “The Council was divided in their responses. There were some who found him amusing and waited to see what would become of his experiment in the New World.”

  “Hoping he’d fail?”

  Darius nodded. “But when the American Kyn Houses began to grow in power and influence, their amusement turned into contemplation.”

  Pressing both hands on his knees, Natasha pushed to her feet and looked down her elegant nose. “Oh, let’s not sugar coat it, Darius. They began to worry about losing their power. You forget, Ryan wasn’t the only one who came over to the New World. I remember how ‘polite’ the first few Council emissaries were. How their suggestions were thinly veiled orders from the Council.”

  “Orders he chose to ignore,” Darius reminded her. “He could be as arrogant as any Council member, and forcing them to treat him on equal footing didn’t endear him.”

  Her hands went to her hips. “Maybe one of them decided they’d had enough, then.”

  As her implication sank in, he straightened, his instincts clamoring for attention. “You think Mulcahy was targeted by someone on the Council.”

  Her lips thinned and, as he rose to his feet crowding her personal space, her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t step back. “I think it’s an option I’d be foolish not to consider.”

  Her mulish expression didn’t falter. The thrill of an impending hunt twined with an unusual spark of fear. She really believed someone on the Council was behind Mulcahy’s death. His little demon queen was about to step on a very treacherous trail. “What did you find out, Natasha?”

  This time, she did step back, evading his hand as he failed to grab her, drawing him up and away from the couch. “Don’t worry, Darius.” She flashed a patently false smile. “If something concrete comes to light, we’ll let you know. For now, I’m just exploring various options.”

  He stalked her out of the library, stopping at the foot of the stairs to watch her ascend. When she reached the first landing, he called out, “Natasha.”

  She stopped and half turned, her hand tightening on
the mahogany railing.

  “Don’t go hunting your options on your own.” It was a futile request, but he had to try. The stubborn woman was about to start poking a very lethal wasp’s nest in her quest for answers. “It may not be safe.”

  Her lips took a disdainful curl. “Threats, darling?”

  Ignoring the sharp edge of her tone, he answered, “Consider it more of a warning.”

  Feminine pride and arrogance stiffened her spine and added color to her cheeks. “I’ll take it under advisement.” She turned away.

  “You do that,” he murmured, knowing he just doomed himself to becoming the demon queen’s unwanted shadow.

  Chapter Twenty

  After a brief, but intense meeting with Cheveyo, Vidis, and Carys, Natasha finally made it to her office in the early afternoon. It took the combined efforts of her and Carys to convince Cheveyo and Vidis of the wisdom of approaching Darius about Axel’s disappearance, while not revealing the names at their disposal. Walking through the front doors of Taliesin, Natasha was greeted by a waiting Rachel and a long list of needed decisions. The afternoon flew by as Natasha went from one minor fire to the next, hammering out contract negotiations, juggling public relations requests, and fielding the morbid curiosity of various business contacts and reporters. It gave her very little time to dwell on her earlier conversations or the memories they evoked.

  She was wrapping up an appointment with her executive marketing staff, when Rachel’s discreet chime sounded. Knowing the receptionist wouldn’t interrupt unless it was important, Natasha held up her hand to halt the ongoing conversation. “Yes?”

  “My apologies, Ms. Bertoi, but Mr. Durand is asking to meet with you.”

  Natasha’s pulse picked up, anticipation thrumming through her. “Give me five minutes to finish up.”

  It took her four minutes to ensure everyone had their assignments and usher them on their way. She watched her team leave as Gavin stood off to the side, his face impassive. She turned, heading back to her desk, knowing he would follow. The door closing sounded overly loud as she took her seat. Then she waited until Gavin dropped into one of the chairs in front of her desk.

  “You found something?” And judging by his grim expression, the news wasn’t good.

  “Our missing Wraith.” His flat declaration had her suspicions taking front and center. “But Axel’s not talking. He’s in a coma. The only thing keeping him alive right now is his link to Vidis and his pack.”

  Reigning in her urge to spew a stinging mass of curses, she fought to keep her emotions and the more volatile aspects of her personality in check. Her lack of sleep and the mounting stresses of the last few days were starting to pile up. It took a great deal of damage to render a shifter comatose. Perhaps she should be grateful for small blessings like pack ties, but right now she rather have Axel articulate. “What happened?”

  “He ran into someone bigger and badder than him.”

  Gavin’s sarcastic rejoinder scraped against her already stretched temper. Her fingers tightened on the pen in her hand. Instead of snapping his head off, literally, she took breath, carefully set the pen aside, and reminded herself why ripping into him would not be productive.

  However, some sign of her waning patience must have made an appearance since Gavin’s slumped posture slowly straightened. His voice was carefully neutral as he continued, “I sent Chayton to join up with Axel when he called with his trio of names.”

  She held his gaze, managing to hide her impatience with a soft observation. “Yes, considering who those names are, sending another Wraith was wisely done.”

  “I’m captain.” Gavin’s reminder emerged equally soft. “I wanted someone covering Axel’s back.”

  Understanding that her stare was being taken as a challenge, she blinked, allowing Gavin to continue.

  “When Chayton got into town and reached out, Axel wasn’t answering. After Chayton informed me he was missing, he started hunting. When he finally found Axel, he was unconscious and barely breathing. He was dumped in a junk yard on the Anacostia Waterfront neighborhood in Washington, DC.”

  Gavin’s word choice caught her attention. “Dumped?”

  “I’m assuming, since Axel can’t confirm. Chayton thinks the place was picked deliberately.”

  Unfamiliar with the area, she arched a brow at Gavin for more details. “He thinks this, why?”

  “It’s near Bolling Air Force Base.” He watched her closely. When she didn’t visibly react, he continued, “I sent Chayton in on Taliesin’s jet since commercial flights are hard to come by in the dead of morning. He managed to pick up Axel’s trail fairly quickly. If Chayton hadn’t found him when he did, Axel would’ve been discovered by the military police.”

  Leaning forward, she rested her elbows on her desk and steepled her fingers. Pieces of what he was leading to began to fall into place. “Which you believe is what someone wanted.”

  Gavin nodded. “Not sure exactly what they hoped to accomplished since Axel can’t talk, but still…”

  “A Kyn showing up on a military base never goes over well,” she murmured, her mind clicking through one possible scenario after another, testing each piece with the scattered information at her disposal. “Axel’s injuries, what are they?”

  An ominous cloud descended over Gavin’s face. “Physically he’s been beaten to hell and back.” He pulled out his phone, thumbed through some screens, and then passed it over to her.

  If Gavin hadn’t told her who was in the brutal photo, she wouldn’t have recognized the mangled form. Her memory of Axel filled in the blood-stained hair as brown, the swollen and bruised face as a craggy combination of calm capability and stubborn resourcefulness, one that allowed him to blend into seedy bars and executive lunches with equal ease.

  What stared back from Gavin’s phone, made her wonder if his physical appearance would ever again approach anything close to normal. The violence wasn’t limited to his face. His body was ripped and torn. As she brought up the remaining pictures, she noted the wounds varied, some with the smoother edge of a blade, while others bore the ragged edges of claws, possibly teeth. “At least he still has his heart.”

  “A small blessing.”

  As much as she could admire the fact the wounds were meant to hurt, not kill, the damage told her one thing. “Someone had him awhile to achieve this much damage.” And they weren’t looking for information, just punishment. Otherwise they wouldn’t have spent so much time erasing his face.

  “It took Chayton five and half hours to get there.”

  “That would do it.”

  “That’s not all. They set a spell,” Gavin added.

  She looked up from the gruesome gallery. “Spell?” Why did that little tidbit manage to surprise her? Whoever they hunted liked to play with magic.

  “According to Vidis, if it was a simple beating, he would have known Axel was in trouble and been able to assist his healing through the pack bonds. The fact Vidis had no inkling of what was happening with Axel means someone was deliberately blocking his tie to his alpha. And whatever is blocking that tie is making it so Vidis can’t prod him out of his coma to find out what happened.”

  “Is it the same magic used against Vidis last time?” Vidis recently lost one of his wolves when his traitorous brother used their shared blood to block the pack ties. She handed Gavin his phone back. “Or similar to the one used to kill Ryan?”

  “We won’t know until we get Axel back here and check it out.” He took the slim device from her and tucked it away. “Right now, Cheveyo’s acting as a mediator between Vidis and Chayton. They’re trying to work around the spell and keep Axel breathing while they’re flying home.”

  “Why not let him heal under the eastern alpha’s care?” Even with a shaman babysitting, bringing a critically injured shifter home in a plane did not inspire confidence.

  Gavin grimaced. “From what I can gather, the eastern alpha doesn’t want to be involved in any way with Vidis, says whatever trouble
is stalking the Northwest Pack doesn’t need new prey.”

  “Is that so?” Perhaps the eastern alpha was simply being cautious, but she would make a point to carve out some time to do a little digging, just to be certain. Information was always helpful when you needed to ensure proper responses to future conversations. Regardless, the Northwest Houses would not forget the eastern alpha’s lack of assistance. For now, she needed to concentrate on more immediate issues. “When do you expect their flight?”

  He checked his watch. “In about two and half hours.”

  Doing some quick mental calculations, she sighed. “Darius will be here soon, but I’ll have Jamie and Rachel reschedule my other meetings.”

  “You are not meeting him alone, Natasha.”

  The male arrogance in his statement made her back teeth grind. “Aren’t you a dear boy for trying to protect me?”

  “It has nothing to do with your protection.”

  “No?”

  “No, it has to do with what keeps peeking out when you’re not paying attention.” He shook his head. “If you decide to stop playing civilized, I’m not sure Taliesin could handle the increase in remodeling costs.”

  His rather astute observation drew her attention to the unsettled nature stirring under her skin, a sure sign she was much more off balance than she thought. Perhaps coming in this afternoon was the wrong decision. “It has been a damn long day,” she admitted. One that showed no sign of ending anytime soon.

  “Tell me about it.” His momentary commiseration wiped some of the exhaustion off his face. “Move the meeting to Vidis’s house. Let’s set the board in our favor.”

  She leaned back in her chair, thinking. “No, not Vidis’s.” With one of his own coming in injured there was no way Vidis would be able to maintain the calm needed to deal with Darius. Considering the topic under discussion, Gavin had a point though. They needed someplace private, where curious ears couldn’t listen and, if things went badly, eyes couldn’t witness. Her house was currently overrun with construction crews. She smiled as the perfect solution rose. “I’ll have him meet me at Ryan’s.”