Requiem for the Dead (20 page)

He pulled me down into a hard kiss that lasted a little too long to end there. I slid back a few inches, reassuring myself that he was still hard. He made a noise that I answered with a well-placed rub of my hips. Fingers gripped my waist. His arm muscles tensed as he fought what was probably the very overwhelming urge to roll us over and claim me.

"I love you so much, Evy." His voice was a hoarse whisper that sent shivers through my belly and down my thighs.

"I love you too. All of you with all of me."

Another long, intense kiss like the first one, and I was scrambling in the bedside dresser for a condom. We didn't even shed all of our clothes. Just got his shorts down and my ruined jeans off, and then my body was sliding onto his, opening for him. The passion in his eyes swelled my heart to bursting. I leaned down to kiss him again as our bodies began to move together.

We existed in each other, in that moment, for as long as we could. In the last few months we'd learned to never take each other for granted or to take what we'd found together for granted. It could all be over in a flash—a lesson reinforced yesterday after our captivity. Every touch, every kiss, every ripple of pleasure we gave each other's body was treasured. Because as much as I wanted a forever with Wyatt, forever was not a guarantee, and I wanted no more regrets. Not with him.

Long after, we lay together in a tangled, messy, half-clothed heap, enjoying such a simple thing as holding each other. Sooner or later one of our phones would ring and remind us of the world outside those thin plaster walls. Until that happened, I held my lover close and dozed.

10:45 a.m.

Wyatt went ahead of me to Operations. I lingered a little longer while showering because my hair was a tangled, matted mess and required some extra attention—and not for the first time, I gave serious thought to just cutting it short. Maybe some other time. Once it was clean and I was dressed, I twisted it up into a messy bun so it was out of the way.

I didn't need the crutch anymore, but I still had a slight limp as I headed down the corridor to Ops. The leg ached, and I suspected it would for the rest of the day until the wound was fully healed. Considering the bullet had been half an inch from hitting my femoral artery, I'd take the limp over being dead.

Halfway there, Kismet stepped out of the shadow of an unused storefront. I jumped back, startled to see her lurking there. "The hell, Gina?"

"I need to show you something." Her tone left no room for argument, and it tweaked my nerves a little bit.

"Okay."

"In here." She pushed open the storefront door.

I followed her inside. The windows were papered over, which allowed some residual light from the corridor. Enough to see by, anyway. The store was small, the floors bare and walls empty. I didn't see anything unusual until Kismet presented me with her phone.

"This was sent to me from your old phone," Kismet said. "The one Vale took from you yesterday."

Oh great. "You've watched it, I take it?"

"Yes." Her face was unreadable, but I knew without asking that I wasn't going to like whatever Vale sent.

I pressed Play. The black screen flashed to life, displaying two frighteningly familiar figures huddled together in the near-dark. Each had a wrist handcuffed to a chain, which was wrapped around a wooden support beam of some sort, and they both looked terrified.

"Son of a bitch," I said. Vale had Stephen and Lori Frost. Judging by the shadowed shape of a water heater in the background, they were in a basement somewhere.

The light source shining on them cut off, plunging the room into darkness. Lori screamed. Wood creaked. The video jumped to a bright close up of Vale's face, looking righteously pissed and a little bit smug. Fury tickled at the back of my mind, aimed right at the were-cat onscreen for all the hurt he'd already caused, and for dragging two more innocent people into this clusterfuck.

"I'm uncertain if I should call you Evangeline or Chalice," Vale said. "Imagine my surprise when I saw your face on the news as a missing person, and imagine my further surprise when Mr. and Mrs. Frost willingly came here to meet me and speak with their daughter. They are far too trusting, and if you would like to see them alive again, call me back on this phone. You have until noon."

The video ended.

I didn't waste breath or energy expelling the dozen or so expletives roaring through my mind. I didn't even look at Kismet, who was hovering nearby. I hit redial, then put the call onto Speaker.

"You're prompt, Ms. Stone," Vale said. His voice sent cold fingers down my spine.

"You gave me a good incentive to call."

"Indeed. Are you alone?"

"Yes." I trusted Kismet to stay silent for this conversation. "Are you insane? There's a city full of Therians looking for you right now, and you're going to try and blackmail me with hostages?"

"Yes."

"What makes you think they mean anything to me? They aren't my parents."

"I've heard about your resurrection, and I'm not banking on a strong sense of daughterly duty. I'm banking on your training as a Triad Hunter. You protect innocents."

Dammit.

"If you don't want the Frosts hanging from chains like your Hunter friend, you'll pay close attention," Vale said, his voice darker. Angrier.

"I'm listening."

"Right now, Marcellus Dane is being challenged for the position of Pride Elder. Riley will, of course, answer the challenge in his place. I need you to ensure that the fight is lost."

I let loose a surprised snort before I could stop myself. "You can't be serious. I'm not Therian. The Pride won't let me anywhere near that fight."

Traditionally, challenges were fought in a similar manner as old-fashioned human duels. Both sides met in a neutral location, a thirty party—usually an Elder—was there to signal the start of the fight, and witnesses were there in the event that one fighter yielded before they were killed. Because the whole point was to kill the other person. I had no chance of successfully sabotaging Riley—no intention of trying, either.

Vale laughed. "Your perspective is too narrow, Ms. Stone, which proves how little you know about Pride politics."

If that was supposed to be an insult, it didn't deliver. Handling Pride politics was not my job. "So what is it you want from me exactly?"

"By Therian law, if the sitting Elder dies before the official challenge is answered, the position is open to Assembly control. The Assembly can hear nominations and vote on the replacement Elder."

"And let me guess? You have enough friends on the Assembly to get a good pal of yours nominated?"

"Nominated and voted into the position."

"So you want me to what? Assassinate Riley before the official challenge fight?"

"No."

I glanced at Kismet, a little confused. She shrugged. "What then?"

"Riley is simply a stand-in for Marcellus. Since Marcus refused to give up the security codes to the Dane compound, you're going in for me. You've been allowed onto the grounds as a guest because of your relationship with the Coni."

He was right on that count. Joseph, Aurora, and Ava lived with the Danes, and I'd visited them a few times since they had moved to the mansion. The security guards knew me, and they'd let me in without putting up a fuss. Vale was hot-headed and didn't plan well, but he did his research.

And then his plan for me today fell into place with alarming clarity moments before he said it: "Your job, once you're in the Dane compound, is to find Marcellus and kill him."

"No."

"No?"

"Hell no. Do I really need to list all the reasons why that will never happen?"

"You're clever, and you have a few handy powers in your pocket, or so I've heard."

"So you think I'll what? Teleport into Elder Dane's office, cut his throat, and then teleport back out? And no one will be suspicious?"

"I honestly don't care if you're suspected or not, as long as you aren't caught. If you are, you're rogue. One mention of me will result in more of this."

Wood creaked. I heard a sound that might have been fingers snapping, and then a woman screamed. Lori. I squeezed the phone as anger surged through me. Lori kept screaming.

"Stop!" My eyes stung with emotion I didn't understand. "Stop, please."

Her screams dissolved into deep sobs, and then the sound cut off.

"You were saying?" Vale asked.

The Frosts weren't my parents, but the knowledge didn't stop a surge of hate and grief from making my insides shake. I didn't look at Kismet. I had to make this decision on my own. "I do this and you let the Frosts go alive and without further harm?"

"Yes."

"I also want the items you stole from me yesterday."

"What items would that be?"

"The scroll and the leather bag."

"Sorry, Ms. Stone, you'll need to do another favor for those."

"Unless the Felia kill me first."

"That's your issue."

Fantastic.

"You have until noon tomorrow," Vale said. "If you tell anyone about this conversation, I'll be sure to take it out on your parents before handing them back."

"What about Kismet? The woman whose phone you send that photo to?"

"I've already reached an understanding with Ms. Kismet. Noon."

He hung up, and I very nearly threw the phone across the room. Instead, I forced my fingers to unclench and hand it back to Kismet. She watched me with a curious, cautious expression that I mirrored.

"What does he have over you?" I asked.

"That's my problem, Stone."

"Not if it affects the outcome of this whole clusterfuck."

"It won't. Vale thinks he has something to hold over my head and keep me quiet, so I don't connect him to whatever it is he wants you to do. But the bigger picture is more important, Evy. The Assembly, the Watchtower, the vampire cure, it's all more important right now. What happens next is your call."

My mind raced with a dozen different things I could do, different ways to go about solving this particular crisis. I wasn't the planner though. That was always Wyatt's job—to come up with a solution to problems, plan out our defense or offense. And I couldn't risk telling Wyatt what was going on. Not this time. He'd try to stop me or want to help, and I could not allow Vale to torture and murder the Frosts. They'd already lost their daughter; they deserved better than that. But how could I walk onto the Dane compound and murder Marcellus without putting a giant target on my own ass?

"What now?" Kismet asked.

"For now, I need your word that you won't say anything about this. Not to anyone, even yourself. Life as normal. Please?"

"I promise." She frowned. "Evy, what are you going to do?"

"I need to figure out how to assassinate a were-cat without getting my throat ripped out."

Kismet impressed me by shutting up completely about the call and my new task. Two months ago, she would have questioned the hell out of my decisions, maybe even ratted me out to the others. Hell, two months ago I would have refused to let her stay in the room while I spoke to Vale. Showed how far our relationship had progressed from the days of her trying to murder me.

We walked into Operations to a lot of loud chatter. Wyatt looked up from his conversation circle with Astrid and Rufus. I met his eyes and managed to not react to the question in his—I'd taken more time getting to Ops than he expected. I winked, then smiled, and his curiosity settled.

"What's going on?" Kismet asked as we joined the trio.

"Elder Dane has been challenged," Astrid replied. "It's an official challenge through the Assembly, so Riley will fight in his place."

"Who challenged him?" I asked.

"A man named Silva. His true form is a lion."

"So not a Bengal?"

"At this point, none of the Bengals are stupid enough to step forward, but that doesn't mean Silva is unconnected to Vale."

She had no idea how connected he was to Vale.

"When's the fight?" Kismet asked.

"Noon tomorrow."

Of course it was noon tomorrow. Twenty-four hours before the fate of the Watchtower was decided. "So what are we doing?" I asked.

"The same thing we've been doing," Astrid said. "Searching for Vale."

"We don't just need him for the crimes he's committed," Rufus added. "He also has the items you received from the gnome. We need those things back."

Yet another reason I needed a good plan for this assassination job. I had to be alive in order to do this unknown second favor and get the scroll and medicine pouch from Vale. No pressure.

"I'd also like to send a team down into the sewers near Parker's Palace," Astrid said. "We know the goblins came and went from there last night, so it's possible there's a nest nearby. It may lead us to Nessa's location."

I avoided eye contact, which wasn't like me, but I didn't want her assigning that job to me today. I had other things to do.

"I'd like to take point," Kismet said.

Bless you, Gina.

"All right," Astrid said. "Take six people, good noses and good with blades. Let me know when you're ready to leave."

"Understood." She headed out without another word or look, and I made a mental note to thank her later—if I was alive to manage it.

Wyatt, on the other hand, cornered me as soon as I left Ops. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing except the obvious, why?" I said. I hated lying to him, but I didn't have time for an interrogation.

"I expected you to jump at the chance to do some goblin hunting."

"I think I got my fill last night." Which was partially true. The release of gutting a dozen goblins had felt wonderful, and it was very therapeutic. I'd probably benefit greatly from gutting a few dozen more. "Plus, I want to be available in case Vale is found."

Wyatt nodded. "All right, I can accept that."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I know you better than you know yourself, Evy. Something else is bothering you. Is it the Frosts?"

Oh, baby, you have no idea.
"A little, yes. I still don't know how to deal with them."