Chapter Seventy-Two
Nicole
THEY DIDN’T DRIVE TO THE WAKE’S LONDON HEADQUARTERS like Nicole had expected. They took a helicopter, and with every second of the ride Nicole’s stomach turned increasingly acidic. She kept wondering, why now? Why had the Wake moved on them earlier than they’d told Kyan?
She only came up with two reasons: either they didn’t trust him.
Or they had never intended to give him the time, anyway.
Her family would have realised the situation by now. They would be trying to find her.
But they’re safe, she reminded herself. They were safe and hidden and that was the only thing that mildly calmed her. That, and Kyan’s presence. She knew in her heart, in her soul, that as long as she was with him, she was safe.
She was blindfolded once they were back in London, but Kyan would know where they were going. That was a small mercy. Even still, she remained alert to any distinguishing sounds, or glaring scents.
Was this what the Wake would have done to her mother if she’d been taken alive? Dragged her in, only for her to never be seen again?
Don’t think like that, she chided herself, if only to try and stave off the rising anxiety.
Nicole didn’t know where she was being led, but she felt the difference when Kyan was stopped, like the bond between them was electric in the dark of the blindfold.
‘I’m going with her,’ he said.
‘No, you’re not. She’s getting briefed.’
‘I’m coming in,’ Kyan snarled. ‘She’s my charge, remember?’
‘It’s all right,’ Nicole said. She needed to get inside and find out what she was dealing with; get them a ticket out of here. If Kyan fought back too soon, she had no idea where they might lock him up.
He must have realised the same thing because he said, tightly, ‘I’ll wait here.’
Silence.
Nicole was nudged into walking again.
When her blindfold was ripped off, light stabbed her eyes, but her body was loose and ready. She was in the strangest calm-panic place of her life.
Just do the next thing, and the next.
Keep up the mask, because if you don’t, you’re dead.
And so is Kyan.
Nicole blinked, finding herself in an almost clinically white room with a frieze of marble along the back wall.
The gravity of being inside the Wake hit her as she met the viper-cold eyes of a woman lounging on what could only be described as a throne. She twirled a knife’s tip against the pad of one of her fingers in a thoughtful motion.
Nicole remembered the Druid’s words. This must be the woman who helped run the Wake.
The moment that Nicole’s face had been revealed, a shocking flash of hunger with an undercurrent of pure malice went through the woman’s eyes. It was gone in an instant, like light bouncing off a blade’s edge, but it sat in Nicole’s stomach like a chunk of ice.
This woman knew who she was; knew who her mother was.
And she was not going to be easy to convince.
The stranger had a cold kind of beauty that matched her blonde hair and pale skin. But there was a wicked, almost sensual confidence in her, too.
Nicole’s alert senses rushed towards her, trying to note any scent or familiar energy and figure out what she was. But there was no well of divine power, nor anything in particular to give her away.
Did that mean this woman wasn’t a Fomóir? Perhaps the Demon Gods had found ways to smother themselves to go unnoticed this long.
‘Why, what a surprise,’ the woman purred.
Nicole knew immediately that she didn’t find this a surprise at all.
Perhaps playing dumb would be her best bet: letting some of that real nervousness come out, some of her real curiosity.
‘A pretty little baby Empyreal. Welcome!’
‘Who are you?’ Nicole asked, allowing a tremor into her words.
‘I’m one of the Wake’s many handlers.’
Lie.
The words put a bad taste in Nicole’s mouth.
‘Do tell me how Kyan came to find you, I’m so curious.’
‘That’s what I’d like to know,’ Nicole said.
‘He explained what I am and what he is, but I’ve had the worst time of my life recently.
First, someone tried to kidnap me.’ Kyan.
‘And then Kyan tells me he’s here to protect me, and suddenly a load of other “Empyreals” are after me too?
All because of something my mother did? I didn’t even know her. ’
The woman’s unnerving gaze speared Nicole to the core: violent and cold.
‘Your mother never told you what you are?’
A test.
So, she frowned, blinked. ‘My mother died when I was young. She never – she never got to tell me any of this.’
The words were a dare, to admit what they’d done.
She was so damn grateful she hadn’t been kept in the dark. That her mother had ensured she knew as much as possible about their world without being a part of it.
‘And your father?’
This was the risky part.
If the Wake knew about her, how long had they been watching? Had they seen her with her family? They looked different enough that maybe she could get away with lying.
‘Dead as well.’
‘How tragic.’
‘What if I don’t want to join this organisation?’ Nicole asked. ‘Can I leave?’
‘I’m afraid not, my dear.’ She pointed with her thin knife to the wall behind her.
‘See this? I don’t know how much you know about our kind and the supernatural world, but what you are is necessary to keep the peace.
You’re doing the world a great service. Think of it as a new job, hm?
We even pay you. Send you all around the world. ’
Rip me from my family.
Kill my mother.
Kill me when you’re done with me.
Mutate creatures.
Try to tear open the Wild Hunt and summon a Dark Age.
Nicole’s eyes skimmed the carvings behind the dais: the same ones they’d used to indoctrinate others. Wild-Hunt-style images of Empyreals driving out dangerous supernaturals.
A long and noble history.
It would have been convincing, too, if she hadn’t been told the dark truth.
‘What if I want to bargain for my freedom?’
Intrigue flashed in those cool eyes, and Nicole suddenly felt like this was a cat-and-mouse game she was very much losing.
‘And just what would you have to bargain with?’
‘Surely I can’t tell you that now, unless you agree.’ Nerves began to tick with her heartbeat.
The placid ice in the woman’s eyes morphed into delight.
‘I know! How about this? You do one hunt for us and give us this bargaining chip, and we let you go, hm?’
Nicole’s pause wasn’t faked. ‘One hunt?’
She smiled. ‘Yes.’
‘What guarantee would I have? How do I know that once I come back to report it, you wouldn’t keep me here?’
The woman didn’t even look down as she turned that blade onto her opposite hand, slicing it with a quick, unflinching slash that pearled up dark red blood. ‘I swear by my blood that if you complete your kill and give me your supposed information, you will have the option of leaving.’
Nicole watched the slice of crimson. She could do one hunt for them, then choose something innocuous to share about her discoveries. Something that would allow them the ability to keep up the fight. As long as her family were out, she could make this work. She could get out and take Kyan with her.
There was still a chance.
‘What do you want me to kill?’ Nicole asked.
The woman stood, conversation over. ‘Run along. Get your gear and weapons. Alexander will follow you on your hunt to confirm you complete it.’
‘Wait, weapons? I’m hunting a dangerous creature, so I’ll just transform. Right?’
‘Oh no, my dear. You don’t want to be an Empyreal, so you won’t kill like one. You’ll be using a weapon, because your prey won’t have a kill scent.’
Prickles of warning danced along the back of her neck. ‘What are you talking about? No. I want a proper hunt. A creature that’s dangerous—’
‘If you don’t do it,’ the woman cut in, ‘I’ll consider that Kyan’s problem, and he can be punished accordingly. Or, you can just oath yourself here and now.’
Nicole stared.
One beat.
Another.
This wasn’t what she was made for. This wasn’t right.
She’d killed to protect before, but not like this.
But what were her options? Binding herself to the Wake would mean the only unoathed Empyreal left who could defeat them would be Dylan, and he couldn’t do it alone.
The longer she was here, her family would come looking.
Then they’d be damned. She couldn’t let that happen.
So, if it kept her out of the Wake’s clutches and allowed her to keep her family hidden, she would make herself their dark huntress.
She had no other choice.
Nicole raised her chin, a shutter sliding down over a vulnerable part of her heart. ‘Who am I hunting?’
Another part of her clung to the hope that the target was dangerous, a criminal, maybe. Someone the world wouldn’t miss.
That hope was decimated when the woman smiled, and told Nicole her first target’s name.