“I’m listening,” said Will jaggedly. His cousin was welcome to offer ideas if he wasn’t happy with what Will had to say.
But Liam just shot him a withering look. So Will straightened and said, “She will never agree to join Cain. She’s a warden. Not to mention, she’s her own person.” He shook his head, absolutely convinced. “She knows better.”
“He doesn’t have to convince her to want to join him,” Liam countered. “He just has to get into someone long enough to issue her a threat. You were right the first time.”
“And that’s the crux of it,” came a third voice.
The two turned to find a tall, middle-aged man standing on the metal silo walkway that wound around the top of the main entry point of the underground facility. The entire building was warded against the creatures of the different realms – vampires, werewolves, dragons, warlocks, and so forth. But this particular man had always managed to find a way past them.
Darryl the once-warlock and now-dead warlock perched atop the walkway banister on the second floor above the at-home gym that connected to the library, and smiled down at them. He was leaning casually on his forearms against the railing, his hands folded neatly. He looked like he’d been there for some time, just as calm as can be. The only thing giving away his emotion at all was the fact that his eyes, normally a light and slightly too-white blue, were red as fire.
“Darryl,” growled Liam. Liam hated the man. But like any warden, he only killed when hired to, unless in self defense. And Darryl knew better than to press that kind of button. Twice.
He was a very smart re-animated warlock. That was why when he died, he was brought back by the warlocks of his coven in the first place.
“And in full monster mode,” Will added as he contemplated Darryl’s red eyes. They meant he was aroused, and not in a good way. It meant his power was fluctuating dangerously. In other words, he was pissed off. He always hid it well, managing to keep his temper well under his thumb. But the potential was there.
Will thought fast, measuring the distance to weapons and spells located throughout the room, but his heart wasn’t in it. They’d dealt with this particular trespasser so many times in the past, the cousins were now torn between a grudging familiarity and their bone-deep, hard-bred need to destroy rogue evil.
Darryl Maelstrom, the now undead warlock, had been one of their marks for betraying other warlocks years ago. But in true warlock form, he’d cut the cousins a deal when they’d needed it most, and had resurrected one of them when he’d been killed during a job. Later… Darryl appeared out of nowhere in the nick of time to save the other before he surely would have been killed as well.
The cousins had a habit of digging the deepest holes for themselves. And Darryl Maelstrom had a habit of filling those holes back in.
A few years after that, Maelstrom bit the dust anyway at the hands of a pissed off witch. But his knowledge of the dark arts was too valuable to be rid of entirely, and he’d come back, resurrected by a few resourceful warlocks who relied on his shrewd mind for the business end of warlock magic and weren’t in the mood to see their finances go bye-bye.
Now Will and even Liam had to admit that it was probably a good thing the warlock’s life had been spared by them. He’d more than made up for it. He seemed to always be there, on the sidelines, showing up when things looked most bleak. Will was wondering if one of those times was now.
Darryl took a slow, deep breath, pushing himself off the railing to reveal unthreateningly empty hands. “Not here to fight, boys,” he said plainly. “We have a mutual interest.” He began making his way down the stairs, and Will glanced at his cousin.
Liam met his gaze, confirming that they’d both hatched a silent plan of attack, just in case. They’d had years of practice.
“You can stop making googly eyes at one another,” said Darryl without looking up as he stepped down onto the landing and slid his hands into his pockets. “As I said, I’m not here to fight.”
He was dressed as usual in all black. His short brown hair was perfectly neat, his suit was perfectly tailored, and his black wool trench coat was finely fit. He wasn’t model handsome, but he oozed charisma and he looked powerful. In this warlock’s case, it wasn’t an illusion. Before he’d finally been offed by the witch, he’d managed to amass a small fortune by selling his services as a connoisseur of dark magic. He was good at magic, but he was also good at business, and that was basically the definition of power in this day and age.
Will watched him carefully as the enigmatic man made his way through the home gym in the first room, looking entirely at odds in his dark finery against a backdrop of bench press machines and free weights. Darryl continued up the connecting stairs to the second room and moved to the table at the center of the library, where he pulled out the same chair Fort had been sitting in earlier. He sat down, and Will caught the slightest whiff of him.
Death and pine trees.
Apparently Darryl’s heart was so cold, and his magic so thoroughly nasty, when he’d been brought back by the other warlocks, something had gone wrong with the resurrection spell. He hadn’t come back complete. Instead, he was what Will would call ninety percent alive – and ten percent dead. Because of this, there was a pallor to Darryl’s skin that no amount of makeup could hide or cover up. It was beyond pale, and just the tiniest bit green, as if he were always a little queasy. In short he was a walking, talking rotting man, and at times he smelled like one too.
Knowing Darryl and his resourceful nature, Will would guess the warlock had tried everything he could think of to cover up that scent. In the end, he’d resorted to stuffing the pockets of his clothing with automobile air fresheners. Today’s scent was apparently pine tree.
As far as anyone knew, Darryl’s case was the first and only of its kind. The world’s first zombie, so to speak.
Will peered at him and asked, “What is our common interest, Darryl?”
He knew the answer long before he’d asked the question, but Darryl wanted to be asked and wouldn’t divulge the information until he was satiated.
The warlock grinned. “Why, Helena Dawn, of course.”
Chapter Ten
Will bristled. He wasn’t surprised, but he definitely wasn’t comfortable with the notion of Darryl the undead having an interest in the Promised One. He shouldn’t have cared. And he sure as hell should get used to it. Because Helena was the very essence of desirable. According to Fort, she represented something different to everyone who saw her. For Will, there was something about her that made him feel hopeful. Looking at her was like getting a heady dose of dopamine and oxytocin. Suddenly problems didn’t feel so problematic, and everything had an answer. The future was bright. The grass was green. The snow was un-tread-upon.
So of course Darryl would have an interest in her. Any man would be expected to. What Will supposed was bothering him most just then was that Darryl knew she existed in the first place.
“How do you even know about her?” Liam asked, giving voice to Will’s concern.
Darryl splayed his arms and gave Liam a dismissive look. “Oh please. I’m Darryl.”
Liam rolled his eyes, and Will had to force himself not to do the same.
“What do you want with her?” Will asked. That was what he really wanted to know.
Darryl turned the same expression on the taller cousin and cocked his head to one side. “What does any man want from Helena?”
Will felt his gaze narrow. He felt something else, too. Something he’d never felt before, and it frightened him a little.
“Don’t get your knickers in a bunch,” said Darryl with a wave of his hand. He leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the table. Now Will did roll his eyes. He was going to have to remember to disinfect the fuck out of that table top. “I’m not here to fight with you, remember? And that includes competing over some girl.”
“Then say what you came to say,” said Liam.
But Will clarified. “What did yo
u mean when you said that was ‘the crux of it’?”
Darryl smiled, which was always eerie, but especially so when his undead warlock eyes were red with power. He turned to address Will. “You were right,” he said. “Cain only has to take a mind long enough to threaten Helena. Mere seconds. The threat will do everything else for him.”
“What do you mean by threaten?” asked Liam, who drew nearer to the table.
Darryl gave him a deadpan look. “Use your gray matter, spiky,” he said, using his nickname for Liam based on his hair style. “What do you think Helena would do if she were threatened?”
“Fight back,” the cousins said as one.
Darryl chuckled, crossing his hands over his stomach. “Aaaand… what do you think she would do if someone else were threatened? Especially someone innocent?”
With this, he looked pointedly at Will, and the meaning was clear. All Cain had to do was tell her that he would begin killing people through the minds and wills of others if she didn’t come to him and surrender. And that would be that. She would give in. He would win. And the paranormal realms of the world would have to deal with an ancient and pissed off vampire.
“We need to put her down,” said Liam softly.
Will’s head snapped up. Liam was looking at the table top, his gaze distant and hard. But he seemed to sense that Will was staring at him. He glanced up. His eyes widened when his gaze met Will’s. “Whoa, no,” he said, shaking his head and holding up his hands defensively. “What I mean is that if she’s unconscious – then she can’t talk to Cain. And he can’t talk to her. Right?”
“He can just wake her up,” said Darryl helpfully. “It may only be his mind he’s managed to project into this world, but his mind is enough. What I’m sure Fort told you about Cain is only partly true. He has indeed grown stronger. But more than that, he’s now capable of using magic in realms other than his own.”
Liam and Will both stared at him, then Liam swore softly, turning away from them both.
Will took a deep breath, filing the new information for later. “Would it even matter that he threatened her?” asked Will. “I mean, can’t he just get to her through her own mind?”
“Fortunately no,” said Darryl. “Among other things that were cleverly worked into her design, she’s warded on a molecular level against any kind of spiritual invasion. Otherwise, we would have things like rogue demons and ghosts to worry about. She’s a powerful being filled with enormous potential – for good or evil. Precautionary measures had to be taken.”
Will’s ire rose. He watched Darryl and kind of wanted to kill him all over again. “You know an awful lot about this woman.”
Darryl shrugged innocently. “I’m a businessman, Will. Information is currency.”
“What exactly is your interest in her, Darryl?” Will asked, pushing off the wall. He closed the distance to Darryl’s chair and bent over the warlock, placing a hand on each armrest. From this position, he got a stronger smell of the death that clung to the man, but he narrowed his gaze and leaned in anyway. “I want to know the truth,” he told him softly, almost whispering. “Spill.”
Darryl stared up at him for a long time with a mixture of surprise and something like respect. Will was surprised too, but he didn’t let it show. Finally Darryl said, “Let’s just say she’s far more valuable to the magic-using world when not tied to Cain. And I’ve always been a man who plans for the future.” He raised a brow. “Fair enough?”
Will turned that over in his head. Fair enough, he thought finally. Then he straightened and, after giving Darryl a long hard look, he turned away from the warlock and strode back to the library stacks to take his place up against them.
There was a moment of silence in the room in which Will knew Liam was just as surprised by Will’s action as any of them, but then the older cousin ran a hand over his short, spiky hair and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Did you come here to share an idea, Darryl?” Liam asked. He was losing what little patience he was capable of pretending he had. Will guessed his head was being subjected to a full-on hangover migraine by now.
Darryl regarded him carefully. The warlock was good at noticing things, and he probably noticed Liam’s altered state as well. “As a matter of fact, yes,” he said pointedly. He took his feet off the table and stood, smoothing out his suit coat. “As I mentioned, I’m aware the sentinel came to you to ask for your help in protecting her.”
The boys waited. They said nothing.
“And I’m of a like mind. We all want Miss Dawn out of Cain’s grasp. Hence, we are in need of each others’ help. I happen to know a spell that will keep Cain away from her for a short period of time, including anyone he’s infiltrated. It’s an area of effect sort of thing, if you will. But the delivery system is… well….”
Will glanced at Liam, who looked worried, mirroring Will’s sentiment. “Spit it out.”
Darryl shrugged. “The problem with the spell is three-fold. One, you have to get close to her. Really close.”
“Not a problem,” said Liam with finality. He straightened and cut his eyes to Will, who didn’t know what to think at that moment.
“You have to get close enough to kiss her,” explained Darryl. Then he smiled again. “The kiss will render her temporarily unconscious, by the by. That would be due to the werewolf saliva included in the mix.”
Yuck.
“And problem number two is, she has to want it,” said Darryl.
Will almost groaned, but managed to suppress it. “She has to want the kiss? Or the spell?”
“Both.”
“Crap,” Will and Liam said together.
Darryl sighed and nodded. “But wanting to be protected by the spell can come later to activate it. For the time being, she just needs to want the kiss. So you can see the problem now.”
“We weren’t even sure we were going to be able to convince her to come with us to the safe house,” said Will.
But Darryl laughed and shook his head admonishingly. “Boys, she probably has her own safe house. She’s a warden, remember? Plus, if it were that easy, we could just cuff her and drag her kicking and screaming for her own good.”
For her own good my ass, thought Will darkly.
“Hopefully she’s reasonable,” said Liam. “Like you said, she’s a warden. She should be used to wrapping her head around bizarre shit. And she won’t want to go with Cain.”
“Not if she’s heard the rumors about his tastes in the bedroom,” said Darryl, shaking his head and grinning. “He’s sure to have all sorts of fun activities planned out for her.”
Will’s blood heated in his veins.
I would never hurt her Will, said a clear and ringing voice in his head. He suddenly felt dizzy, and he reached out to steady himself on the bookcase. A flash of glowing blue eyes entered his mind, pinning him to the core. She’s my salvation. She was made for me.
“Will?” Liam’s voice cut through the haze and confusion, and Will opened his eyes. Liam was standing directly in front of him, his hand on his cheek. “You okay?” Will was struck by the concern in his cousin’s eyes. There was something painfully touching about it… as if he’d never felt it before. Even though he knew he had.
It’s Cain, he realized in horror. The mother fucker was in his head!
All along he’d been thinking about the fact that the vampire could do such a thing – and all along, the bastard had been planning to do it to him!
No, he thought. This can’t be happening. It was embarrassing, to say the least. Will suddenly felt like the most worthless warden on the planet. How could he let this happen? He couldn’t let his cousin know! Liam had always looked out for him. They’d always been close, like brothers, and Will didn’t think he could stand to see the disappointment in Liam’s eyes that he knew he would see. So he nodded hastily. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just tired.”
Darryl laughed again. “Liar.”
Liam’s head snapped around. He looked from Darryl to Will. “What does he me
an, Will?”
But Will didn’t answer. He just couldn’t bring himself to admit his weakness.
“I mean that Cain has already gotten to him, Liam. He’s in your cousin’s head. Has been for some time, sitting in there quietly, waiting for the right moment to make his presence known.” He looked at Will and added, “Silly boy. How many times do I have to tell you a closed mind might be ignorant, but at least it’s shut up good and tight?”
Liam peered at Darryl over his shoulder. Will felt his cousin slowly release his cheek and step back. Just as slowly, Liam turned his eyes back to him. “What’s he talking about, Will?”
In his head, Cain laughed. The sound moved through him like sticky fingers.
Will felt absolutely wretched in that moment. Weak didn’t even begin to describe it. He felt like a target, a victim, and a liability. Plus, he didn’t have an explanation. There was nothing else to tell but what Darryl had already divested. So he simply said, “I think you should do it, Liam.” He cleared his throat and stood straighter, which only made him even more tall in comparison to Liam than he already was. He had a good five inches on his older cousin. “You should get close to Helena. She’ll like you. I can tell.”
Women liked Liam. He was handsome, but more than that, it was his easy-going nature, his disarming smile, and his genuine respect for the female sex. He both admired them – and admired them. And women admired that.
Plus, something told Will that Helena would recognize a good soul when she saw one. Liam was a good soul.
But Liam looked at him suspiciously and was about to say something about the change of subject when suddenly Will realized something. “Wait.” He turned to Darryl. “You said the problem was three-fold. What’s problem number three?”
Darryl grew still. He glanced from one of them to the other, and the red in his eyes intensified. “You have to mark her.”
Will and Liam blinked, almost in unison. Then Liam asked, “Mark her how? Like a tattoo?”
Darryl was quiet a moment. He looked at the floor and swallowed hard. “Something like that.”