by Jayne Faith
I swallowed back an irritated growl. Must every damn thing have a price? It was like some torturous board game where you couldn’t make a forward move without performing like a dancing monkey first.
Isaac O’Malley’s face broke into an amused smile. “I jest, Ms. Knightley,” he said. “He was headed to a doorway.”
He named the location. It was close enough that Ray was probably already gone.
Curiosity suddenly welled up. Who exactly was this man who sat across from me? Maybe Shaw had hired someone new.
“Your help is very much appreciated,” I said, inclining my head. “But before I go, I must ask—who are you? Not one of Shaw’s people . . . ?”
He let out a laugh as if my suggestion that he was part of the Shaw organization greatly amused him. Then a slow, calculating smile grew on his face, and small licks of flames showed in his pupils. The little bursts of fire were there and gone so quickly, I might have convinced myself I’d imagined them. But they were real.
“I’m Isaac O’Malley of the Salamander kingdom,” he said. “And you will be hearing my name spoken more and more in the very near future. Have a lovely evening, Ms. Knightley.”
I nodded and then slid from the booth feeling incredibly unsettled.
My head down, I quickly made my way toward the door. Before I could push it open, someone called my name and clutched at my forearm.
I turned to find the Sylph woman who’d helped me standing there with a hopeful look in her long-lashed eyes.
“I was wondering,” she said. “Since I gave you information you found valuable, could I ask a favor?”
I suppressed a sigh of impatience. “Sure, ask away.” Didn’t mean I had to do the favor.
“Could I get Ray Artois’s phone number, if you have it?” she asked. “That is, if the two of you aren’t . . .”
I gave a humorless bark of a laugh. “Oh, no, Ray and I definitely aren’t.”
I pulled my phone from my pocket and powered it on. There was no service in Faerie, but I could look up his info. I gave her his number, which she punched into a new contact entry on her own phone.
“When you leave Faerie to get in touch with him, be sure to send him several messages,” I said. “Really load him up with texts so he knows you’re interested. He loves the attention. And he absolutely adores snakes, so send him lots of pictures of snakes. In fact, if you can find a snake and get a pic of yourself holding it, send him a bunch of those too. That will make him crazy.”
I knew for a fact that Ray hated nothing more than snakes. Even the mention of the word could make him go pale.
She gave me a strange look. “Uh, okay. Thanks for the tips.”
“Oh, and here’s his address, email, and work phone.” I gave her those, too. “Just to cover all your bases.”
I hoped she harassed the hell out of Ray and her snake pics gave him a heart attack, the bastard. But not before I found him and let him have a piece of my mind.
I exited McStaggers, and to my huge relief, Judah and Blake were still there. They’d stood up and appeared considerably more sober than before.
“Tara,” Judah said. “I was just about to come in after you.”
Blake had a pained look on her face, and she was massaging her temples. “Damn, my head is killing me. What happened to us?”
“Druidic magic,” I said shortly. I turned. “Come on, we’re going this way.”
We were going to the doorway Isaac O’Malley had mentioned. I didn’t expect to catch Ray, but we had to use a doorway to leave Faerie anyway, so we might as well go the way Ray had gone, just in case.
Judah and Blake walked on either side of me and didn’t seem to have trouble keeping up with my quick pace. Maybe the magic had completely worn off.
“Didn’t you notice he was chanting?” I asked, my tone clipped.
Druidic magic didn’t happen quickly like witch magic did, and there was nothing subtle about a Druid chanting for several minutes.
“I feel like an idiot,” Judah muttered. “He told us he was creating a disguise spell for me and Blake.”
“Why would he need to do that?” I asked.
“Because I’d told him that Laine and I look a lot alike,” Blake said. “So Ray told us it wouldn’t be smart to let Killian Abernathy see me, if he happened by. He might see me, mistake me for my sister, and think we’d freed Laine, and I don’t know, fly into a rage. It seems stupid now—really stupid, actually—but I swear at the time it made some sense.”
I ground my teeth. Wow. Ray had worked fast, gleaning information from Judah and Blake in my absence. Then he’d used it to trick them into thinking he was chanting a spell to help them. He must have used a bit of Elvish charm glamour on them, too, to get them to buy the story about why Killian shouldn’t see Blake. Full-blood Elves tended to be rude asses, but their powers of charm helped them get away with it when they interacted with non-Fae. Glamour—whether physical to make a Fae blend in or appear more attractive, or persuasive like the Elvish specialty—was essentially an ancient adaptation of Fae blood to allow Fae to move among and manipulate non-Fae. The glamour didn’t work on other Fae, even those like me with only a tiny bit of the blood in our veins.
“I apologize for the stupidity back there,” Judah said. He seemed truly distressed, his cheeks flushed by the light of the streetlamp we passed. “I feel like an absolute dumbass.”
“It wasn’t really your fault,” I said, softening. “He probably used some glamour on you that made you lower your guard.”
Judah muttered a few choice curses under his breath.
“Where are we going now?” Blake asked.
“To the doorway where Ray supposedly left Faerie,” I said. “I don’t expect we’ll catch him, but either way, this is the end of the road for this little adventure. I have to go across the hedge and check for messages from my boss.”
“I still don’t know where Laine is,” Blake said, equally worried and angry.
“After I check my phone, I’ll send another message to Killian explaining what happened. At that point, everyone involved will know the jig is up.”
We turned a corner, putting us in view of the doorway. It wasn’t deserted as I’d expected.
Two men were engaged in a rollicking brawl in front of the doorway. Balisarde lay on the ground a dozen feet away from them.
Chapter 14
KILLIAN AND RAY were rolling around on the ground, trying to wring each other’s necks.
I silently sprinted at the sword and scooped it up. Ray saw me but couldn’t get free of Killian to challenge me for Balisarde.
“Hey!” I shouted, waving the blade overhead. “Either of you two boneheads interested in this?”
Killian sneered and grabbed at Ray’s ankle, dragging him down before he could get on his feet. They both lay there, panting and spent from their struggle.
I lowered Balisarde, pushing the point into the ground and leaning against the sword as if it were a cane. I crossed one ankle casually across the other.
“And so, here ends this stupid plot,” I said in a loud, singsong voice. I pointed at Killian. “You are the patsy in this story.” I swung my finger to Ray. “And you are a double-crossing ass.”
I was just about to tell Ray that our on-again-off-again agreement was off because there was no way in hell I was going to help him with anything after what he’d pulled.
But I didn’t get the chance. Men in suits stepped out of the shadows, and I had just enough time to recognize them as Shaw’s goons before they blasted us with magi-zappers. My entire body went rigid, and hot pain sawed at every nerve as the taser-like action of the zappers took away my ability to control my muscles.
I collapsed to the ground. Just before consciousness grayed out, I saw Blake, Judah, Killian, and Ray go down, too.
I woke up with a painful jerk of my neck that brought my head upright. I blinked, looking around, and realized I’d been propped on a sofa. Immediately, I recognized the room I was in. It was
Shaw’s study.
Judah, Blake, Killian, and Ray were there, too, all having been positioned on chairs and sofas and looking as dazed as I felt.
Grant Shaw stood casually near the fireplace, one forearm propped against the mantle. Balisarde was tipped against the wall next to him.
My eyes automatically sought out Shaw’s henchmen. There were always at least two. Sure enough, one was just inside the door. The other stood near a window. They both wore dark glasses and suits, secret-security style. That was a relatively new thing that Shaw had implemented in the past few years. Before, his guards wore regular clothes. I suspected he’d been watching American movies that gave him the idea to make his guys look like presidential security detail.
“Good evening,” he greeted me.
I nodded, my mouth going dry. “Boss.”
I slid a look at Ray, recalling how adamant he’d been about staying out of Shaw’s way.
“Now, Tara,” Shaw said, almost warmly. “Please tell me how you and your companions are connected to this fine sword.”
He gestured to the blade and then clasped his hands behind his back. Shaw had probably never been a handsome guy, but he was the type of man who projected power. Compared to a decade ago when we’d first met, his paunchy stomach stuck out a bit farther, and there were more wiry gray hairs sprinkled over his head and in his thick brows. His hooded eyes were perhaps a little more sunken than back then. He was a large man who’d probably never exercised a day in his life, but he moved with surprising fluidity. Rumor was he had a bit of Cait Sidhe blood—cat shifter Fae—which, if true, was probably the reason for his grace.
But at that moment, he was still and waiting for me to speak. And despite his polite tone, I knew he wasn’t happy I was there. It showed in his orange-flecked eyes, which were tight and unblinking.
I swallowed. As always before speaking to Shaw, I reminded myself that he was the reason my mother and sister were alive and healthy. He’d given me that, and he could take it away just as easily.
“I first became aware of the sword when my friend, Judah, here, contacted me,” I said.
Without bothering to try to conceal anything important—Shaw could sniff out the smallest whiff of deceit, which I’d learned the hard way when I was still a kid—I explained Laine’s kidnapping and the demand for the sword, which was supposed to have been part of a payment to Judah’s company. I told Shaw about how Ray had told me who had Balisarde and then arrived at Darren’s for the blade, and how I’d guessed the kidnapping was a setup. I spelled out the rest, up to the point where we’d all been zapped near the doorway. I wasn’t sure how Shaw’s men had come upon the scene there, but Shaw wasn’t going to tell us. It didn’t really matter, anyway.
I didn’t get into Ray’s motive with Balisarde, figuring Shaw would pry it out if he wanted to. I kind of hoped Shaw would do it. I’d enjoy watching Ray squirm.
There was no point in leaving out any of the mains parts of the story that involved me, though. It was much less painful to just tell Shaw things up front. If he found out about even a hint of deception after the fact, he was unforgiving. My main concern was that he might see my involvement with Judah and Blake as a side job. I tried to make it clear that I was simply trying to help out an old friend.
After I finished speaking, Shaw frowned, deep lines appearing across his forehead and between his brows. His gaze was angled down, focused on the thick rug that ran along the wide hearth. He seemed to be digesting the information and deciding how to respond. I was familiar with this act. Shaw already knew exactly how he was going to deal with each one of us, but he’d draw it out just for fun.
“I’m distressed by several aspects of this situation,” he said after a few seconds of silence.
He took on what I thought of as his fatherly-professor demeanor, speaking slowly and pacing thoughtfully in front of the fire. I wasn’t fooled.
I shifted on the sofa and glanced at Blake, who was seated next to me a couple of feet away. She looked scared. Judah sat with every muscle tensed. I didn’t think they had much to worry about, though. Killian and I were Shaw’s people. We’d be the ones to bear the brunt of his wrath.
Shaw stopped abruptly, his gaze whipping up to Killian. “Is it true you’re holding this woman’s sister hostage?” Shaw spoke sharply, in a deep, booming voice meant to intimidate. I knew it was coming, and I still startled a little. Fatherly Grant Shaw was gone, replaced by cross-examiner Shaw.
Killian blinked, drawing back in his chair. His green eyes widened, and the flush on his face deepened.
“Uh, yes, boss,” he said. He managed not to stammer. “But I recently discovered that she was in on it. She was setting it up.”
“That does not help your case in the least,” Shaw snapped. “We do not resort to kidnapping in this organization. There will be consequences for your behavior.”
Uh oh. Killian was in deep shit.
When Shaw turned from Killian to Ray, Killian took the opportunity to shoot me a death glare. Apparently he was blaming me for ending up here in Shaw’s study. I looked back at Killian with exaggerated, wide-eyed innocence, which only seemed to tick him off more. I shook my head disapprovingly and gave him a little shrug, as if to say, ”You brought this on yourself, dummy.” His flush deepened until his cheeks were practically purple. I figured at that point there was no chance Killian and I would ever be best buddies, so if I could goad him into popping off and making things worse for himself, all the better for me.
“And you, Mr. Artois,” Shaw said to Ray. We were back to pacing Professor Shaw. “You have a keen personal interest in this special blade.”
“It’s a valuable piece, Mr. Shaw,” Ray said evenly. To his credit, he squared his shoulders and leveled his unblinking gaze at my boss.
“Valuable enough that you saw fit to interfere with this other situation,” Shaw gestured to Judah and Blake, “and try to steal the blade, even though it rightfully belonged to the company owned by these two guests from the other side of the hedge.”
Ray’s gaze cut to me and back to Shaw. Ray didn’t respond.
“Well,” Shaw said with a sad tilt of his head. “This blade has apparently caused many problems. So, here’s how we’re going to resolve this.” He stopped and turned to us, his demeanor hardening again. “Mr. Abernathy will immediately release the young woman he’s holding hostage, and she will be brought here. Mr. Abernathy and Mr. Artois will depart immediately and without debate. Neither of them will use this sword as a reason to cause any more trouble that touches the people my organization. This is your get-out-of-jail-free card. You get one. Don’t waste it. Understood?”
Shaw’s one-word question seemed to thunder through the room.
Ray and Killian each showed their own versions of suppressed fury. But both quietly answered that they did indeed understand.
“What are you waiting for?” Shaw barked. “You’re dismissed!”
Killian jumped to his feet, but Ray rose more slowly.
“What becomes of the sword?” Ray asked. His fingers twitched at his sides.
“I’ll be keeping it.” Shaw’s tone clearly implied his answer should have been obvious. “I’ll reimburse Tara’s shifter friends for its value.”
For a moment, Ray and Shaw locked eyes. I held my breath, not really wanting to see Ray challenge Shaw in spite of the problems Ray had caused me. To my relief, Ray dropped his head and turned to go. I caught a glimpse of the simmering anger on his face when he passed.
Agent number one opened the door, and Ray and Killian departed quietly.
“I need a word with you, Tara,” Shaw said. “Your friends can wait outside.”
I nodded, and my stomach tightened. Judah and I exchanged a glance as he and Blake exited. He was visibly upset about leaving the room while I stayed.
The door closed, and I faced my boss.
Chapter 15
GRANT SHAW WAS smart to rope people into his organization when they were vulnerable and young. He
was skilled at making an early impression that echoed through the years and gave him power over us. It was a calculated combination of providing a longed-for acceptance and purpose to kids who felt like outsiders, plus authority and intimidation that left no question about who was in charge and what would happen if we fell out of line. Using Fae magic, it was all wrapped up neatly into the loyalty oaths he made his people swear to him. In my case, he’d taken it one step further and bound us together in a blood oath. I didn’t understand it back then, but since the deepening of my talents, it was all too obvious just how nicely my abilities dovetailed with Shaw’s obsession with powerful magicked objects.
Logically, I understood how he operated and often saw with surprising clarity how he managed to manipulate people. And yet, old patterns always strongly resurfaced when I was in his presence. I couldn’t seem to stop the ingrained response, even as I knew what he was doing and reminded myself that I was no longer a scared, desperate, insecure kid.
But none of that was the worst part of it. The most loathsome aspect of my relationship with Shaw, one I could barely acknowledge even silently in my own head, was an almost primal urge to seek his approval. It didn’t take a genius to connect the dots of my life and see how I ended up in a dynamic like this. Fatherless teenage girl doesn’t fit into her family. Strong male figure saves girl’s mother and sister and offers girl a place in an organization with others like her. Girl no longer feels like a freak. Strong male figure becomes surrogate for the father girl never knew.
Except it was considerably more twisted than that. Those of us under Shaw competed more than we bonded with each other. And he was no father to any of us. He found ways to use our weaknesses to bind us to him, and then he exploited us for as long as he could.
I understood it. But I couldn’t seem to do much of anything about it.
As I waited for Shaw to speak, sweat began to dampen my underarms, and my hands grew icy.
He was back near the fire, his arms crossed and resting on his belly.