Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
Wylder
“Goddamnit.” Sigurd stood up from the table and paced. “A new Hunter? Are you sure?”
Wylder felt for his uncle. Silva, too. They’d been pitted against the old Hunter for over thirty years, had him contained, and suddenly someone new had come in and was throwing a wrench in all the plans that had worked before.
Plans they’d fought and bled for. The plan his mother died for.
It hadn’t seemed like such a big deal to him when he and Silva found out, but now that he’d had a moment to process, he understood why they were so upset.
He and Silva had left the safehouse as soon as the sun came up that morning and made their way back to the Seers Guild. From there, it’d taken a single step through the right door to put them back in Solston. It was disorienting, but worth the time saved.
“Alban didn’t want to tell me but couldn’t let me walk away without knowing. I don’t think he’d have given up the information if he wasn’t certain.”
“Shit.” Sigurd stopped and rested his hands on his hips. “What do we know?”
“Beyond that, there’s a new Hunter and three vampires attacked us as soon as we stepped off the bus? Nothing.”
“Do you think Alban had something to do with that?”
“No.” Silva sighed and propped his elbows on the table. “I think they’d been following us since the Guild.”
Wylder mirrored Silva’s pose and looked from his mate to his uncle. “What I want to know is how is this even happening? If the door is sealed, how does Alban know about the Hunter?”
Sigurd sighed. “Tears in the veil between realms, most likely. Cracks. Before we closed the door, they occurred here and there on their own. But with the door sealed, someone would have to open them.”
“Could people pass through those?”
“No,” Silva said. “They’re difficult to open, harder to maintain, and very, very small.
Before we closed the door, darker Fae used them to whisper to humans.
Stories of the Hunt and other monsters to keep the Fae feared and to cause general mischief.
It’s possible someone on the Fae side has been creating cracks to convey information to those on this side who are eager to hear it. ”
“Okay, so we find the people on this side that have been receiving that information.”
Silva stood. “We already have. It’s time we go talk to Ansel.”
“Before you go,” Sigurd said, looking from one to the other before settling his gaze on Wylder and raising a brow. “Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”
Wylder was a grown man, and he tried his best not to squirm, but he knew that tone.
Sigurd already knew, and he suddenly felt like an unruly teenager again.
Only this time, he hadn’t done anything wrong…
but he still didn’t know if Silva was ready to share that they were mates.
Wylder understood that, even though the thought stung.
Silva looked at Wylder, a pleased little smile lighting up his face and making the corners of his eyes crinkle. Suddenly, that sting he’d felt vanished. That one look told Wylder everything he needed to know.
“We’re mates, Sig,” he said, gaze never leaving Silva’s.
Sigurd walked around the table and rested his hand on Wylder’s shoulder. “I know, lad. And I’m happy for you.”
He pulled Wylder into a tight hug before turning to Silva. “I suppose I don’t need to give you the shovel talk?”
Silva smirked. “You can if you want. Just give me a heads up, I’ll make popcorn.”
“You’re an ass.” Sigurd chuckled and held out his arm. Silva gripped Sigurd’s forearm as Sigurd did the same to him.
“He will only ever have the love and protection he deserves. You have my word.”
Sigurd’s eyes went shiny as Wylder’s heart gave a wild thump in his chest.
Sig nodded. “I’d expect nothing less.”
Silva
The Hellhound Compound was a large multi-story building on the edge of downtown Solston. It not only housed the headquarters for the Hellhounds in their function as Council Enforcers, but also apartments for nearly all the Hounds and their families.
Silva parked on the street in front of the building since clearance was required for the secure lot behind the building. Wylder had been quiet on the drive over, but there was a pleasant sort of charge to his silence.
“That was some speech back at the house,” he finally said once Silva had turned the car off.
“It was the truth.” Looking over at Wylder, Silva found shiny turquoise orbs looking back at him.
“I know, and I want you to know that I feel the same way.”
Warmth like Silva had never known spread through him.
Touching Wylder was electric, like a livewire burning through his every cell, but this?
This knowledge? Something settled in him that, in all the long centuries of his life, he hadn’t even realized had been askew.
He’d seen mated couples and never truly understood their devotion. One look from Wylder changed all that.
He reached across the console and took Wylder’s hand, lifting it to press a solemn kiss against the back of it.
When he looked up again, Wylder leaned over, gripped the back of Silva’s neck to pull him in, and placed an equally gentle kiss to his lips.
Silva kissed him back, relishing the already familiar feel of their mouths together. Treasuring the comfort it brought him. When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against Wylder’s. “Let’s get this done so I can take you home.”
Wylder chuckled and kissed him again.
A few minutes later, he and Wylder finally got out of the car and walked to the front door.
“How can I help you?” a man behind a reception desk asked as they stepped through the door. “Oh, hey Wylder,” he said after he looked up.
“Hey, Rook,” Wylder greeted and leaned an elbow on the desktop. “Is Derek around?”
“He’s in the bullpen. Something going on?”
Silva moved toward the door leading to the Enforcer Headquarters. “Just need to have a chat with a vampire.”
They found Derek in his office.
“Silva. Wylder. How was Chicago?”
“Windy,” Silva said as he sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk.
Derek snorted.
Silva sighed. “We learned there’s a new Hunter, then got attacked.”
Derek sat up straighter. “Who attacked you?”
“Three vampires.” Silva smiled, all teeth. “I, uh, didn’t get the chance to ask them who’d sent them.”
“Just three?” Derek leaned back in his chair. “If I was coming to kill you, I’d bring a hell of a lot more than three.”
“We don’t think they wanted to kill him,” Wylder said, looking between them.
“Information?” Derek nodded, thinking it over. “So you think they were part of the group Ansel was talking about.”
“We do.”
Derek smiled. “Then they’re idiots. I’d bring even more to take you alive than I would to kill you.”
Silva gave him a little nod.
Derek narrowed his eyes. “The information on the Hunter. It came from a reliable source?”
Silva nodded. “Forest Fae. He’s proven himself trustworthy.”
“I need to inform Kerak.”
“That’s one of the reasons we’re here.”
Derek raised a brow. “And the other?”
“I’d like to interview Ansel. I have the feeling he knows the Hunter has changed, and maybe who it is. It would explain why this group is suddenly so keen to get the door open.”
“Seems plausible. Good luck getting him to talk. He hasn’t been cooperative,” Derek said, rising and leading them back toward the holding cells. “If you want to have a seat in interview room one, I’ll have the boys bring him in.”
Before Derek stepped out from behind his desk, his cell phone started to vibrate. Looking down at it, Derek smirked. “Speak of the devil.” He pressed a button on the screen and lifted the phone to his ear. “Your Highness.”
Ah. Kerak. Good, Silva thought. They could get him up to speed.
“He’s here, actually.” Derek met Silva’s gaze. Kerak was speaking low enough that Silva couldn’t even hear the rumble of his voice. Some dark emotion passed over Derek’s face, and unease slithered through Silva’s belly. Derek lowered his gaze to his desk. “Yes, my king.”
Wylder touched Silva’s hand. Silva looked at him, meeting questioning turquoise eyes. Silva shifted in his seat, every nerve in his body telling him something was wrong. Once Derek lowered the phone, Silva asked, “What’s going on?”
Derek took a breath. “Reid isn’t doing well. Kerak would like to speak with you. He’s asked that you wait here.”
“Is that all he said?”
Derek didn’t answer.
That bad feeling in Silva’s gut started to spread. “Derek.”
“He needs to talk to you. Both of you. That’s all I can say.”
Silva stood. “Fine. We’ll meet him in the lobby.” He motioned for Wylder to stand, too.
“Silva,” Derek started around the desk at the same moment that Wylder stood up.
Silva shot forward at the same time that he pulled Wylder back a step, putting himself between Wylder and Derek. Derek lifted his hands, chest-high and palms out. “I’m no threat to you, Silva.”
“I’d like to believe you, Derek, but I’m guessing you’d be just as cautious with Hollis.”
Derek’s eyes widened. “He’s your mate.”
“He’s my mate.”
“What the hell is going on?” Wylder demanded from behind Silva.
Kerak appeared in the empty doorway. “What’s going on, Wylder, is that you’re going to help me open the door to the Fae realm and stop your mother from killing my mate.”
Our story concludes in A Demon King Called Kerak.
Thank you for reading!