Of Blood and Smoke

Chapter 38

THIRTY-EIGHT

Josiah

Christina claimed she’d acted on her own. She babbled nonstop hatred toward Della while Micha carved her up and she promised me many entertaining scenarios involving her willing body, should I show mercy.

When she was done offering alternatives to spare her useless life, Micha briefly considered tasting her flesh, but then he wisely thought better of it. Who would want a deceitful snake’s flesh churning in their stomach?

Unable to detect any aberrations in her aura, I ordered her execution. I never wanted to touch her again and allowed Micha the honor of performing the execution on my behalf, our traditions be damned. It was hard to resist the urge to sink my blade into her taunt stomach, to watch the wash of red flow over my hand and drip to the floor, but for Della’s sake, I refrained from the pleasure.

Micha would’ve denied himself as well, out of respect for me, but we didn’t want to recruit any of our men. To do so may have caused them discomfort anyway, with their knowledge of the ways of crossbreeds and my prior position as an enforcer. It was my own duty to deal with those who betrayed me or the Court. The men were stationed throughout the building and our properties, their single goal the security of the facility, not the execution of death sentences. They had their own job to perform.

Security would be even tighter going forward. Occasionally, an employee from downstairs—generally a member of our management team, would arrive on our floor for a multitude of varying reasons. I’d informed the guards we were not to be disturbed under any circumstances before we eliminated the errant assistant.

So, imagine my surprise after we cleared the execution chambers and cleaned out Christina’s desk. I’d returned to my office to find an unfamiliar soul seated in my space.

Thankfully, he was in a visitor’s chair and not on the wrong side of the room. Keeping my eyes on the man, I closed the door behind me and stilled. He wasn’t human, that was immediately obvious to me.

I dropped my innate guards and tried to read him, noting the smoke-like aura that drifted around his being. There was no sense of danger from him, just a mild curiosity coupled with a definitive sense of purpose. Suitably relieved, I asked, “Who are you?”

“Ethan,” the man said.

As I looked him over, I noted the ruby-handled dagger resting on his thigh, his glassy fingernails and glossy, dark hair, its length slightly longer than my own. He was dressed more casually than I, solely in pants and a button-down shirt, sans tie or vest. His hands and neck were nearly black with intricate markings, one curving up behind his ear.

Demon, I decided, although there was something else going on . His aura was mostly cloaked in shadows, making translation difficult .

“What is it you want?” I rounded my desk and sat down, resting my clasped hands on the desk and keeping my back straight.

He stared at me, assessing, most likely, if I posed any threat. His eyes flickered a glowing deep orange, cementing my decision as to his species. “The Ancients discovered me, while I was trespassing the palace grounds.” He flipped the knife in the air and gripped it in his fist, again resting it on his leg.

“Apparently, you and Micha are a hot commodity. Especially you, Josiah. Ezra has a high opinion of you. Something about you reminding him of himself.”

I couldn’t hide the brief look of disdain I knew crossed my face. Ethan didn’t miss it, and chuckled. “He asked me to pass a message, and since he was very persuasive, I agreed.”

“Message?” I asked. “I will not bend.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.”

“Why were you trespassing?”

Ethan’s eyes burned a little brighter and he met my gaze. “Wraiths. I’m slaughtering them. And you’re down one on your property. I will not replace it.” He stood up.

“You will cease destroying my property,” I ordered the man.

“Or what? You’re not going to stop me.” He glared at me. “The collective’s army of wraiths killed my family. What would you do if they took your precious little human woman from you?”

White-hot lava flew through my veins at the very idea. “That won’t happen,” I growled. “If you think you’re here to act on their behalf and convince me to go home, you won’t be leaving in one piece.”

Ethan smirked. “I wouldn’t touch a single precious hair on her head, calm down.”

This man was on my personal property and aware of Della. The knowledge of that grated at me. If it wasn’t for the group of power-hungry men lording over the rest of us and expecting me to bow to their whims, none of this would be an issue.

“What, exactly, was the message?”

“That you’re running out of time, Josiah. They’re obsessed with the continuation of our line, of producing more hybrids, and you’re caught in the line of fire. It's also the reason my family is dead. My wife and child were ‘casualties’.”

He had my full attention. “You’re one of the twenty? What glamour are you using?”

“Twenty-one. I’m more demon than vampire I suppose, in appearance. I primarily use blood for sustenance.” Ethan began pacing my office, examining the space.

“Why bother to warn me? You should know better than most the threats hold no weight for me.” There was no purpose for him to follow through on delivering a message beside sheer curiosity or strategy.

Ethan returned to the chair and threw an arm over the back. “Curiosity. I’ve never met another crossbreed. My wife and I lived in a district to the west of the city. Not much there other than outcasts but it was where she’d grown up, so we stayed.”

The man rubbed his chin. “You appear rather lax about the threat.”

The comment grated my nerves. I was anything but lax, as my extra security should’ve shown him. Regardless, it was curious how he’s evaded my men. “How did you get in here?”

“I cast myself in here.”

His answer eased me. If he wasn’t really here, he couldn’t do much of anything. I’d cast myself in the past, though it’d been a long time. Humans and witches would only be able to see him in a reflective surface whereas vampires and demons didn’t need to use a mirror. I leaned forward on my elbows. “What will you do now?”

“Other than find the wraith that ripped my heart out? I don’t know.”

“How do you know it's here?”

“I consumed a couple of them and followed the trail. I suspect the same one was burdened with the task of retrieving your Della.”

My stomach roiled with the thought of consuming a wraith. The idea was so distasteful I’d never imagined anyone venturing to such lengths. “Court dictates they come for me, first. They won’t touch her; they can’t take her anywhere unwillingly.” The man didn’t know much if he thought the Court sent wraiths after Della.

“If you say so. I was never in the inner circle.” Ethan stood up, seemingly restless. “I agreed to pass the message, and it’s likely I’ll find who I’m looking for if I stay in the area. I won’t intrude in your business or on your territory, I’m here with a specific purpose.”

Out of curiosity I asked, “Did they attempt to recruit you to the Court?”

“What they really want is you to go back, but yes.” I knew this; it’d been clear to me the last time I was there. It seemed as though Ezra thought my foray into the Third Realm was a passing fancy and I’d intended no permanent residence.

I tapped my nails against the reflective surface of my desk, a habit when my mind was in turmoil. “And they accepted your decline?”

“No.” Ethan leveled a gaze at me. “Make no mistake, I will eliminate the wraiths. But, in the meantime, you may use that knowledge to your advantage, if necessary. Surely, they’ll attempt to escape my wrath.”

Uncertain what he was suggesting, or why, I stated, “It is unusual for a peer to offer what you do.”

The man sighed and looked down, appearing to study his blade. “You’re an enigma, Josiah. No one really knows you outside of the Court. Every now and then, our kind does collaborate in some form or fashion—if it may be of benefit. Perhaps you wouldn’t have known of the genocide if I hadn’t informed you? Perhaps you wouldn’t be able to mold it for your use, if needed?”

“What do you want from me in return?” I asked, respecting his subtlety.

“A marker without an expiration date.”

I stood and held my hand out. “Done.”