“I’ll need to do a scan to see if there’s any sign of latent magic and then remove it.”
“I’m sorry.” Dante stepped closer.
“No need. It was my mistake.” For some reason, her throat felt tight and she had to clear it before trying to speak again. “I shouldn’t have trusted him. It seems to be a failing of mine.”
When Dante extended his arms offering a hug she moved away.
“I’m fine. Go tell Sam and Damien we’ve discovered who the enemy is and we will deal with him.”
“We?”
“Yes. While this is technically a problem for the Coven to deal with I recognize you have a vested interest in the outcome.”
“Thank you.”
She rubbed her forehead once again. “I’ll be out in a minute. I have to take care of this first.”
Dante was silent for a moment and then nodded. “I’ll be waiting for you in the main room when you’re ready.”
As his footsteps faded, she relaxed the tight hold she’d been keeping over herself and sank into the chair. Her shoulders slumped, a curious pain in her chest now matching the one in her head as she pictured Cyrus sitting eating fries and making crazy comments about signalling turns in a kitchen.
“I can’t believe it, Sven. How could it be Cyrus? He’s a harmless old man.” Her gaze fell on the newspaper article she’d kept about the supposed cult killing. Yeah. Right. A harmless, old man.
“Why are you siding with him?” Damien paced the small foyer at the entrance of the club.
Sam sighed. “I’m not siding with him, merely making a logical assumption. He almost died saving me and the baby. He wouldn’t have done that only to see us killed by the very witch we were escaping from.”
He shook his head. “Everything Dante does is for some self-serving reason.”
“Damien,” she put her hand on his arm. “I was there. You weren’t. There was nothing premeditated about it. He recognized danger when I didn’t and put himself in harm’s way for me.”
“His supposed good deed had another purpose, I know it.”
“Well, in a way he did have an ulterior motive.” She pursed her lips as if weighing the pros and cons. “It’s not my place to share it though.”
Damien ran his hand through his hair. “It’s like he’s brain-washed you. I’ve told you how he manipulates and schemes.”
“And in the past, I believed you. But maybe his motives haven’t always been what they seemed.”
“He’s a master of deceit. Anything he told you is a lie.”
“Normally I’d agree with you but I have to go with my gut on this.”
“Sam,” he took her hands in his.
The door of the foyer opened to admit Dante. He glanced between the two of them. “Sorry to interrupt but I had a feeling I was the topic of conversation.”
Sam gave a nod. “You were.”
Damien narrowed his eyes. “Somehow you’ve managed to convince my mate you aren’t a pile of shit.”
Dante’s only reaction was to blink once. “Really? But you aren’t a believer in that theory.”
“Damned right.” Damien kept his gaze steady on the other man.
“Damien, just shut up for a minute and listen. Really listen.” Sam took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. “Please?”
He studied her for a minute, taking in the sincerity and determination on her face. Eventually, he nodded. “Fine.”
“Good.” Sam turned to look at Dante expectantly. “Well?”
Dante cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. “Damien…er…” He put his hands in his pockets, looked up at the ceiling and then glanced at Damien. “I…um...”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Sam rolled her eyes. “Imagine you’re the evil dude in that space movie.”
“Space movie?” Damien frowned while Dante laughed.
“Excellent advice.” Dante removed his hands from his pockets. “Damien, I am your father."
Silence filled the small space accompanied by a sense of expectancy as if they were balanced on the precipice of something monumental. One beat passed, then another, the tension growing exponentially. Sam flicked her gaze between the two men. Damien seemed frozen in place. One corner of Dante’s mouth gave a nervous upward curve before it faded.
Finally, a muscle twitched in Damien’s jaw and then, as if released from a canon, he launched himself forward driving the man into the wall.
“You fucking, bloody bastard.” He grabbed Dante by the collar with one hand, formed the other into a fist and drew his arm back.
“Damien!” Sam rushed over.
“Stay out of this, Sam. This is between him and me.” Damien growled the words, not taking his eyes off the man before him.
Dante didn’t struggle. He didn’t speak. He just looked at Damien with a curiously blank expression.
Damien adjusted his grip on Dante’s collar in preparation for delivering an unforgiving blow. He paused to savour the moment, his hatred for Dante, his father, merging into a ball of dark emotion that consumed him and begged to be released in one gloriously cathartic movement. He stared the other man in the eye, doing nothing to mask his feelings. And then, for some reason, he couldn’t seem to do it.
“Hit me if you want.” Dante prompted. “I’m sure I deserve it and it might make you feel better.”
“Damned right you deserve it.” Damien took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. The man before him was a complete and utter bastard. He deserved to be beaten to a pulp and yet… He looked at the man before him and swore. “Fuck it!” He released Dante and stormed towards the club’s exit.
“Damien?” Sam called after him but he didn’t stop, the door slamming shut behind him. She glanced at Dante. “I’m sorry.”
“It went better than I thought.” Dante adjusted his collar. “If I were him I wouldn’t have been pleased either.”
“I should go after him.” Sam glanced between Dante and the door where Damien had disappeared.
“Good idea. And, should the opportunity arise, tell him I’m sorry for everything. I did what I thought was best.” He shrugged. “He doesn’t have to forgive me but I’d like him to know I wish things could have been different.”
Sam nodded. “I will.” She went to leave the club following her mate, then paused, her hand on the door knob. “I think there’s a lot more to your story than any of us suspects.”
“Don’t make me out to be something I’m not, Sam. There’s a lot about me that you don’t know.”
“And maybe there’s a lot about yourself that you don’t know either.”
Gwyn apprised the others of Cyrus’ guilt. Only Matt knew of him and then only in passing as a sleeping figure hidden under the blankets. She was thankful for that; it made it easier to speak of Cyrus as an anonymous person.
“Dante and I will go see Camille. I’ve already contacted her and asked that she convene an emergency meeting of all Coven members who are already in the area.
“If Cyrus has been trying to make you suspicious of her, he’s likely done the same with her.” Reno pointed out. “She might not greet you with open arms.”
Brandi nodded. “It sounds like he was planning on having both of you so focused on each other that he could remain under the radar.”
“Yes, well, it worked. She was highly suspicious of my request but under Coven laws she was unable to refuse.” Gwyn pressed her lips tightly together, thinking of the spell she’d just removed from herself. A simple befuddling spell, so subtle she’d never even noticed it. Had Camille been subjected to a similar spell?
“What do you want us to do?” Matt asked.
“Nothing. Shifters are of little use against a witch. Dante can come as he has a vested interest in this, but it will be safer for all of you to stay away.”
Matt rumbled a protest but Reno nodded. “As much as I hate to admit it, you’re correct. However, I would like to know what’s going on, just in case there’s something we can do.”
/>
Gwyn frowned. “I don’t see how that’s possible.”
“What about the bug Dante planted in your office?” Brandi suggested.
Dante strolled back into the room as she spoke. “Wearing a bug to the meeting is an excellent idea.” He took out his phone and offered it to Reno. “Switch phones with me. I have an app on mine that connects with that bug. You’ll be able to hear everything that goes down.”
“Where’d Sam and Damien go?” Reno glanced towards the door.
“Something came up.” Dante shrugged. “All for the best. Sam needs to be kept safe.”
“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Brandi murmured.
An hour later, Dante and Gwyn stood in the entrance of the sprawling building Camille had acquired for the Coven’s meetings. Unimposing from the exterior; inside it was a lavishly appointed convention centre. He stood beside Gwyneth in the foyer as she recited a magical spell that acted as a password.
Dante gave a low whistle. “Nice décor.” He glanced at the chandeliers, gleaming hardwood floors and plush furnishings.
“Camille doesn’t believe in sparing expense.” Gwyn cast a look around the space. “A bit too much white for my taste.”
“Rich jewel tones would suit you better,” he murmured.
She rolled her eyes. “We go this way. As a non-witch it’s expected you will follow behind me.” Gwyn seemed intent on completing their mission as quickly as possible so he confined himself to responding with a raised brow before following in her wake.
The building was strangely silent, their steps echoing as they passed by a variety of meeting rooms, halls that appeared to lead to suites for the Coven members to stay in and several common rooms for special events.
“Everyone will have gathered in the council room.” Gwyn spoke over her shoulder. “I’ll enter first. You stay in the doorway until I obtain permission for you to enter.” She paused in front of a set of double doors, took a deep breath and then pulled them open.
He glanced over her shoulder, getting a general impression of white. White columns, white drapery. A white tile floor. There was a chair on a raised dais, not quite throne-like but more ornately carved and padded than the other seats that formed a semi-circle on either side of the room.
A woman stood in the centre of the space. There was an autocratic air about her, from the tilt of her chin to the way she wore the long silvery grey gown.
“Gwyneth.”
“Magissa.” Gwyn gave a small nod of respect.
The gesture didn’t seem to meet with the other woman’s approval for she frowned, her lips tightening. “Your request for an emergency council meeting came as a surprise.”
“Most emergencies are.” Gwyneth gave a tight smile and looked around the room. “None of the others could attend?”
“They’re here.”
“Invisibility is the new fashion?”
“I’ve asked them to wait in the anteroom. Your message was rather cryptic. I felt it was…safer…for everyone concerned if I were to initially meet with you in private.”
“Safer?”
Dante stepped into the room, the verbal dance the two witches were enacting was getting them nowhere. “She thinks you’re the malefic witch, Gwyneth. Cyrus probably fed her the same cock and bull story he told you.”
“Who is this?” An autocratic expression formed on Camille’s face.
“An acquaintance.” Gwyn shot him a look. “Who doesn’t hear instructions.”
“I prefer to think of myself as a friend.” He smiled at Gwyneth. “And I heard your instructions perfectly well. I merely chose not to follow them.”
“Enough!” Camille strode towards them, her silken gown rustling as she walked. “Who are you and what is this about Cyrus?”
“My name is Dante Esparza. I’ve been tracking a certain malefic witch for a number of years and I believe it to be Cyrus.”
“Nonsense. The man’s in his dotage.”
“That’s what I thought,” Gwyneth admitted. “But recent events have led me to believe otherwise.”
As succinctly as possible, Dante and Gwyneth outlined the facts while Camille paced the room occasionally interrupting with questions. In the end, she nodded.
“It would seem he was playing both of us.”
“He recognized your mutual antipathy. It made both of you more willing to believe his story.” Dante pointed out.
“You speak the truth, Lycan.” Camille looked him up and down. “I’ll forgive you for ignoring protocol…this time.”
He swept his hand to the side making an elegant bow. From the look on Camille’s face, it improved her opinion of him.
“I assumed you were here to launch an attack against me,” Camille admitted, “which is why the other members aren’t here.”
“You put yourself in the way of danger to protect them?” Gwyneth sounded impressed.
Camille snorted. “You’re assuming you could ever be a threat to me, but yes, it is my job to put the needs of the Coven ahead of my own. Unlike you.”
“And with that comment, our moment of accord is done.” Gwyneth’s expression morphed back to one of barely suppressed dislike.
“We wouldn’t want to upset the status quo too much, would we?” Camille murmured. “Whatever would the rest of the council gossip about if we should become friends again?”
Dante barely suppressed a laugh before returning to the matter at hand. “What will we do about Cyrus?”
“I will summon him before the council. He will be tried and punished.”
“Punished? I—”
“Enough, Lycan. Your presence here is a huge breach of protocol and I should expel you. You may remain and take a seat near Gwyneth provided you don’t interfere.”
“He will behave.” Gwyneth gave him a warning look and then led the way to a seat. A spare chair suddenly slid into place, brought in by a young woman who seemed to appear out of nowhere.
“Thank you, Bianca.” Gwyneth gave her a brief smile before turning her attention to the individuals who were filing in to the room.
Dante watched with equal interest. Most nodded at Gwyn, no sign of suspicion or animosity evident. Apparently, Camille hadn’t mentioned Cyrus’ suspicions to them. That fact raised the Magissa in his estimation. She might not be easy to get along with, at least according to Gwyneth, but she showed good leadership skills. Not all the seats were filled but the majority of the members seemed to be present. Camille took her place on the dais and began to speak.
“As you are all aware, the practice of black magic was abolished based upon council recommendation and the dark pages of all grimoires were subsequently sealed. Unfortunately, I have grave news to share. It has come to my attention that one of our members has chosen to ignore this most fundamental rule, using black magic numerous times for personal gain, in direct defiance of our laws.”
A wave of whispers and shocked gasps filled the room and it took some time for the gathering to settle. When it did, Camille spoke again.
“Before we pass judgement, are there any questions?”
Various hands went up and Camille addressed each. No one asked who the guilty party was but the empty seats were eyed speculatively. When there were no more questions, Camille rose to her feet.
“I will ask this question of each of you. Based on the evidence presented, and if proven to be true, what is the punishment for this offence?
The same answer circled the room. Death.
When it was Gwyneth’s turn to speak, she answered as the others had but Dante noticed her hands were clenched, the knuckles turning white.
“So be it.” Camille sat down again. “As a Coven, we summon Cyrus.”
A collective gasp filled the room before, as one, they repeated Camille’s words. “As a Coven, we summon Cyrus.”
There was a flash of blueish light and the man who must be Cyrus appeared in the middle of the room. He was slightly stooped and wearing a long grey cloak under which a wide leather belt
could be seen. His skin was softly wrinkled, his cheeks faintly pink. Wispy, shoulder-length hair of snowy white and a neat beard dominated his appearance, creating the impression of a kindly grandfather figure.
Dante narrowed his eyes, a low rumble issuing from his throat. He knew better than most that appearances could be deceiving. After all these years, he was finally in the presence of the man who had murdered Carlotta.
Chapter 28
“From the sounds of that growl, Dante sees the bastard.” Reno sat in his rental car with Brandi and Matt. He rested his arm in the open window, the warm spring sun warming the interior of the vehicle. They were following what was going on inside the building across the street.
“I wish I was in there,” Matt grumbled.
“So you could get retribution for Cyrus imprisoning you?” Brandi asked.
“Yeah. And to support Gwyneth. She considered him a friend and she doesn’t open up to many people. She’ll be hurting.”
Reno rubbed his head. He’d had the impression that Gwyneth and Dante were a couple even if they did participate in more than their fair share of sparring. But now it sounded like Matt might have a claim on her. Brandi would probably elbow him in the ribs if he asked though.
“Uh-oh.” Brandi pointed towards a couple who were approaching the car. Everyone swung their attention that way.
Sam was striding down the sidewalk, Damien at her side, the angle of the setting sun casting long shadows behind them. They seemed to be arguing.
“Matt, keep listening to what’s going on inside.” Reno opened the car door. “I’ll go talk to the happy couple.” As he exited the car, he could overhear bits of conversation drifting his way.
“It’s my territory. If something is going down, I need to be here.” Sam spoke in clipped tones.
“I thought it was our territory,” Damien countered. “Plus, Gwyneth and her lot aren’t our concern.”