Deceit Can Be Deadly

  With a sigh, he set the picture back in the box and pulled out the two items he’d been looking for. His original birth certificate and a scrap of paper. The birth certificate was unremarkable. Mother unknown. Father unknown. Place of birth unknown. The date of birth was a guess. He’d been left at an orphanage with nothing but the clothes he wore, a blanket and a scrap of paper bearing his name.

  As he’d done so many times before, he studied the scrap looking for a clue to his identity. It was a cash register receipt from a store on the Academy campus and on the back was his name. Damien Carlos written in block letters but no last name. Obviously, his parents hadn’t cared enough to claim him with a family name. The omission had always hurt though he’d never told anyone.

  For years, he’d operated on the principle that if they didn’t want him, then he didn’t want them. He’d never gone looking for his parents, never investigated his background. His adoptive family, the Mastersons, had taken him in but it hadn’t been a good fit and they’d dumped him at the Academy as soon as they could.

  Damien Carlos. He brushed his thumb over the letters. Who had written the words? It seemed like a man’s printing; bold, dark strokes. His father?

  “Damien?” Sam murmured his name sleepily.

  “Shh, go back to sleep.” He whispered the words over his shoulder and put the papers back in the box.

  She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Sorry I woke you.” He placed the box on the bedside table then swung his legs back onto the bed.

  “Something is bothering you, tell me.” She hitched herself up so she was sitting beside him.

  “Just thinking about you and the baby. Hoping you’ll be safe.”

  “There’s no reason to be worried. I’ve told you that before. I’m a tough Alpha and perfectly healthy.”

  “I know.” He stared at her, studying her features. Her gaze was direct and steady even after having been dragged from her sleep.

  “Shadows from the past?”

  “Yeah.” He sighed. “My head says history doesn’t repeat itself…”

  “But at night the demons take over.”

  “Got it in one.”

  “You need to get your mind on something else.”

  He chuckled. “We tried that a few hours ago, but I’m always up for more.”

  She hit him lightly. “Not more sex. I thought I was supposed to be the one with the out of control hormones.”

  “Around you, I’m always out of control.”

  “A fact I’m well aware of.” She laughed and leaned over to kiss him. “But I was actually referring to Dante.”

  The smile on his face disappeared. “Well, that killed the mood.”

  “Sorry.” She adjusted the covers around her waist. “Have you heard back from Reno?”

  “Not yet. I’ll give him a call in the morning. What about Gwyn? Any more complaints from her?”

  “No. And no one has reported scenting a new wolf in the city. Do you think he could have left the area?”

  He shook his head. “Not likely. Dante doesn’t casually appear. If he’s here, it’s for a reason.”

  “Well, hopefully he’s not going to cause trouble.”

  “Dante and trouble always go together. At least if he’s working for Lycan Link, even unofficially, we can expect help if something happens. Reno wouldn’t leave us hanging.”

  “He’s a good friend.”

  “Right.” Damien took her hand in his, his thumb stroking the wedding band she was wearing. “I asked him to do something for me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “To research my background. See if he can find out who my real family was.”

  “Is that important to you?” She snuggled against his side and placed her hand over his heart.

  “It never was before, but now,” he paused and looked directly into her eyes. “I’d sort of like to know.”

  “Then I hope he discovers something.”

  “Me, too, though I’m a bit worried. Who knows what skeletons might be in that closet?”

  She moved so she was straddling his legs and kissed him. “No matter what your background is, I’ll always love you.”

  He gathered her close, wrapping his arms around her. His strong little Alpha. Damn, he was a lucky man.

  Chapter 16

  “Of course I know Lycan Link has sent a delegate from the Affiliation Office. If you’d volunteered to be on the committee, you’d be aware of these facts.”

  Gwyn smiled sweetly. “I didn’t want to rob you of the joy of rubbing elbows with the curs.”

  “Your prejudice against Lycans is so…quaint. Is it still because one screwed you and then dumped you? Tomas, wasn’t that his name?”

  The episode had long since lost its sting. “Yes. It was a lucky escape.”

  “And you’re now with another shifter. Matthias Bendov if I recall correctly. Such a shame none of your own kind will have you.”

  Her hands wanted to curl into fists, but she controlled the reaction. “Actually, Matt and I have gone our separate ways.”

  “Oh. Such a shame. And here I was going to buy you some flea collars. I imagine bears and dogs are much the same when it comes to nasty creepy crawlies.”

  “So kind of you. Perhaps you can use the money you saved to buy batteries for that vibrating boyfriend you like to play with.”

  Camille’s face turned red and Gwyn was bracing for a verbal explosion when the door to the chamber opened. A young witch, Bianca, who served as Camille’s assistant, entered the room. She silently handed a note to the Magissa.

  “Thank you, Bianca.” After glancing at the paper, she passed it to Gwyn. “Here’s the email about the Affiliation Office’s envoy. It seems he’s going to be interviewing all the Universal Coven members. No doubt he decided to start at the bottom of the hierarchy which is why you were approached first.”

  Gwyn ignored the unsubtle dig and reached to take the page. She hesitated before touching it, her eyes fixed on Camille’s hand. Was there a shade of darkness on her skin or merely a trick of the shadows?

  “Well?” Camille’s question jolted Gwyn and she quickly accepted the paper, scanning the contents of the page. It confirmed Dante’s story.

  “It seems to be legitimate.”

  “Of course, it is. Why wouldn’t it be?” Camille made a small moue and shook her head. “Sometimes I question your commitment to your position here on council, Gwyn. I’m not sure you’re really suited to the job, being so caught up with your club.”

  “I attend every meeting and serve on as many committees as the others.”

  “Yes, and I’m sure you believe your little tasks are all of great importance.”

  Gwyn bit her tongue at the verbal pat on the head. The woman liked nothing better than to goad her into losing her temper and she wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Bianca was watching wide-eyed, her gaze darting between the two of them. Rumours would be flying by the end of the day.

  Camille turned to address the young witch. “I’m so glad you’re taking a break from those Alliance meetings. I don’t know how I’d get all the preparations for the quarterly meeting done without you.”

  “I’m always happy to be of service to you, Magissa.” The soft-spoken woman’s words were hard to hear.

  “Of course you are. How are those tedious Alliance meetings progressing, by the way?”

  “Very well, Magissa. I am pleased to be there on your behalf.”

  “Remember to contact me if there are any important matters to be voted on. Otherwise, I have complete faith in your ability to handle the lesser beings on the committee.”

  “Thank you for your confidence in me, Magissa.”

  “Continue on as you are and I can foresee great things for you. You never know when an opening will occur on the council.”

  The girl beamed then shot a nervous look at Gwyn.

  Camille waved her hand. “You are dismissed.”

/>   Bianca bobbed a small curtsy before leaving the room.

  Gwyn barely held back a snort at the young witch’s subservience. No wonder Camille had such an inflated opinion of herself, being surrounded by lackeys all day long.

  “I hope you had no other concerns, Gwyn? My schedule is very full today and I had to squeeze you in.” Camille folded her hands in her lap. Was it a casual gesture or an attempt to hide the stains on her hands? Even with charmed gloves, prolonged exposure to the dark pages of a grimoire could leave a mark. Cyrus’ warnings replayed in her head, his theories now even more plausible.

  “No, I’ve nothing else to discuss.” She tucked the note into her pocket, feeling foolish. Another sin on Dante’s head. If he’d approached her straight out rather than playing games, she wouldn’t have been suspicious of him.

  Yes, the man had a lot to answer for. Gwyn stacked glasses on the shelves under the bar while waiting for Dante to arrive. She’d tell him what he wanted to know and then kick his sorry ass to the curb. There were more important things to do than kowtowing to a bunch of nosey Lycans.

  Last night she’d entered the cellar, staying until the wee hours of the morning as she attuned herself to the energy of the Earth. It had been some time since she’d tapped into the subtle thrum, letting it invade her being and fill her senses. Sitting in the cool, quiet room, she’d emptied her mind and called upon her innate abilities to make her one with the energy they all depended on.

  At first, it had been a mere tickle, as if one of Sherman’s hairs had floated by, brushing her skin then drifting away. She’d waited with the patience born of experience, not straining as many erroneously did, but allowing the power to find her, to swirl around and seep into her being. She could feel it against her skin, hear the steady beat, see subtle waves through half closed eyes. It ebbed and flowed, washing over her, caressing her; strong, soothing, constant.

  She’d been lulled by its presence, sinking into the comfort of being one with the life force. Her breathing had matched the pulsations, her eyes had closed, her muscles relaxed and then, like an unexpected blast of static on the radio, she’d felt the fluctuation. It jolted through her with the sudden pain of a waxing, making her flinch and gasp and, just as quickly it was over. Everything was normal, the energy flowing stream-like about her once more, but her inner calm was gone. There was only one explanation for such a disturbance. Someone, somewhere, had used black magic.

  After that, she’d poured over the dark pages of the grimoire trying to determine what spell had been used so she’d know how to counteract it. Only when her eyes had begun to blur did she stop. She’d stumbled to bed, knowing she had to awake for her meeting with Camille and then with Dante.

  Yes, she had much more important duties than placating Lycans. The Alliance was the dogs’ idea. They were the ones who were digitalizing all the records, trying to take censuses and generally organize the world to suit their vision. The Universal Coven had already spent considerable time completing surveys and filling out forms, all in the name of ensuring Others felt confident and had no misconceptions about their Alliance partners.

  Well, if the use of black magic wasn’t contained there’d be no need to worry about alliances. Survival would be a bigger concern.

  “Hello.”

  She looked up in surprise. Dante was standing mere feet away. How...?

  “I’ve perfected the art of moving silently.” He anticipated her question.

  “Next time I’ll make sure to keep the door locked so I have a warning that you’ve arrived…that is, if there’s a next time.”

  “I think there’s a high probability of that.” He accompanied the comment with a wink.

  She scowled. “You’re lucky I didn’t turn you into a rat. Sneaking up on a witch isn’t wise, you know.”

  “I have great faith in your self-control.”

  “Ha! That’s ill-advised. Everyone knows my temper is my worst failing.”

  “Perhaps, though I suspect the opposite is true; you actually have great inner control. You hold yourself in check and it would take something or someone quite exceptional to make you let loose.” He leaned against the bar and subjected her to a long, slow perusal. Barely, she resisted the urge to squirm. His gaze was too intense. Too knowing.

  “Sense whatever you want, just know that you were warned not to push your luck.”

  He nodded and pulled a tablet from his suitcoat pocket. “I came prepared today to begin our interview.”

  “Why now? Why not the first day we met?” She narrowed her eyes.

  “Believe it or not, I was officially on vacation. The fact that we met ahead of time was serendipitous.”

  “How so?”

  He shrugged. “I enjoy our banter. It’s not often I find someone with whom I can match wits.”

  “I still find you annoying.”

  “Really?” He smiled. “That’s better than indifferent.”

  She raised a brow thinking she was hardly indifferent. He was the drop of water to her pan of hot oil. When the two met, there was bound to be some nasty snapping and popping.

  “If you were around me for long, you’d soon prefer my indifference.”

  “I’ll be my own judge of that. I thrive on challenges.”

  “And wasting time.” She looked pointedly at the tablet in his hand. “I thought you were here to interview me?”

  “I am, but first,” he glanced about and then gestured to a table near the wall. “Can we sit over there?”

  It was one of the nicer locations in the club, slightly raised with a wooden railing that kept patrons from crowding the space, while a potted plant provided a screen from the rest of the tables. An old stained glass window was mounted on the wall nearby, backlit to show off the rich colours and giving the space a warm glow. There was even a seldom used fireplace nearby.

  “Why?”

  “I’ve brought lunch.” He reached down and then held up a picnic basket. “I believe it’s my turn to provide a meal.”

  She stared, nonplussed, at the wicker basket.

  “It’s a bit chilly today for an actual picnic so I thought this was the next best thing.” He walked over to the table, opened the basket and pulled out a tablecloth. With a flourish, he draped it over the table and then added candles.

  Snapping back to her senses, she planted her hands on her hips. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  He began setting out dishes of food. “I see no reason why a business meeting can’t be pleasant.”

  “I don’t have time for this.”

  “Nonsense. You have to eat. You have to suffer through my interview. This is more efficient than doing each activity separately.”

  He had a point. She sighed and walked over to the table. The food did smell good and she’d missed breakfast due to her meeting with Camille.

  “We’ll start with a fennel, orange and almond salad. Then gazpacho followed by cold chicken with mango chutney and grilled asparagus.”

  “No dessert?”

  “That’s a surprise for afterwards.” He surveyed the table. “You need to provide the wine. It seemed redundant to bring my own given you own the bar.”

  She looked at him and he gave her a crooked smile. There was something compelling about the man and she found herself moving to get a bottle of wine.

  “Sauvignon Blanc or a Chardonnay, please.” He called the request over his shoulder as he set out utensils.

  She considered bringing the cheapest red swill she had. Her hand hovered over the inferior vintage. It would be a shame to ruin her own meal just to spite him. She chose a suitable vintage and settled for placing the bottle on the table with a decided thump.

  “I’ll open this while you light the fire.” He took the bottle and examined the label.

  “You want the fireplace on?”

  “Yes, please. The room is cool, don’t you think?”

  He was right, damn him. There was a distinct dampness to the air and a fire would be ni
ce. She narrowed her eyes and fire immediately began to crackle in the hearth.

  “Nice trick.” He flicked his gaze from her to the fire and back. “Do you often use magic during daily life?”

  “Only when overbearing dogs piss me off.”

  “Is that what I’m doing? It wasn’t intended…this time.” There was a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke. The hint of humour combined with the fact that he wasn’t at all intimidated by her was oddly appealing. She pressed her lips together fighting the urge to smile.

  He poured the wine and then handed her a glass. Their fingers brushed as she took the glass from him and a tingle shot up her arm, reminiscent of the feeling his kiss had induced the other day. Her breath caught, her gaze locking on his. He stilled, his eyes widening before he blinked and turned to pick up his own glass.

  “Cheers.” As he touched his glass to hers, his expression was pleasantly bland, no hint of his reaction moments earlier.

  She matched his neutrality, hiding her inner confusion. There was no way she could be feeling the pull of attraction to a Lycan. No way at all!

  The meal passed pleasantly enough with Dante asking her questions between bites of food, making notes on his tablet. She began to relax, no doubt her earlier reaction to him having been an anomaly and she pushed it from her mind, focusing on their conversation instead. His questions were very similar to the survey the council had already completed and she said as much.

  “The questions you first answered were completed as a group. This is for individual responses. We’ll analyse the data, determine if there are any statistically significant variations in the responses, extrapolate—”

  “Never mind.” She held up her hand. “You’re going to start droning on and on like my accountant, aren’t you?”

  Dante took a sip of his wine and smiled at her over the glass. There was definite amusement in his eyes.

  “You don’t take life very seriously, do you?” Gwyn leaned back in her chair, considering him.

  “Only when I have to.” Dante set down his glass. “I learned early that life can be very hard and very short.” His expression changed, his eyes becoming cold and hard. “When necessary, I can be serious, deadly even.” Then he gave himself a slight shake and smiled. “In between, I enjoy myself.” He reached into the picnic basket and pulled out yet another container. “Dessert.” He opened the lid with a flourish. “Chocolate covered strawberries or rum truffles?”