Chapter 42
The meetingwith the lycanthropes is going poorly.
It has been since Memnon and I stepped into their soundproof room minutes ago. Every shifter but Kane is openly growling as we take our seats. Even their elder, Apani, appears hostile.
Vincent doesn’t bother sitting. Instead, he leans his fists on the table and glares at Memnon, his wolf shining out of his eyes.
“Let me make something absolutely clear: at this point, I don’t want to hear what either of you have to say, I’m not interested in working together, and as soon as we take a vote to remove you”—he nods at me—“as a friend of the pack, I am planning on tipping off the Politia that I know who last night’s mass murderer is.”
My clasped hands tremble a little as I sit there and watch the alpha seethe across the table. I’m rusty at reining in my emotions, but next to me, Memnon is making an art of it. He’s splayed in his seat, his forefinger rubbing his lower lip, projecting only mild interest in the words being lobbed against us.
“The only reason this meeting is happening at all is because Kane insisted on it.”
Kane sits on my other side, just as he did during the last meeting.
I draw in a deep breath and force my frayed nerves to settle. “I appreciate you all coming here nonetheless,” I say.
Vincent glares at me.
“You’re an honorable man,” I say. “But the people who have hurt your pack are not. Nor do they care to play by the rules the rest of us supernaturals try to follow.”
“As opposed to your mate?” He nods to Memnon. “Don’t give me that bullsh?—”
“On Monday, November 13,” I cut in, “the night of the new moon, there will be a midnight auction at the Equinox Building in San Francisco. But this is no ordinary auction. Supernaturals will be auctioning off other supernaturals. Witches, mages, and likely shifters.”
The growls in the room slowly grow quiet, and reluctantly, Vincent takes his seat.
“Specifically,” I continue, “what is being auctioned is called a forged bond—a magical bond that connects two supernaturals together, potentially until death. Depending on the terms of this bond, one or both parties can exert control over the other. Despite the sometimes distasteful nature of them, forged bonds are technically legal. However, the supernaturals being auctioned have already secretly been bonded once against their will to force their participation and cooperation in these auctions. This is likely what would’ve happened to Cara if the bond had gone through.
“The Fortuna family then scoops up the profit from these … sales, and they will continue to do so unless they are stopped.”
The silence in the room is almost painful.
“That’s not all,” I say. “We’ve discovered the murder victims were themselves bonded to members of the Fortuna crime ring at the time of their deaths. The Fortunas use these bonds to exert absolute control over supernaturals. And like the auction, we know the murders are also happening in the Equinox Building.” I take another quick glance at Memnon. “And we have good reason to believe another murder will happen on the night of the auction.”
Before anyone can ask me how I know this, I add, “For witches and several other supernaturals, the new moon represents not just literal darkness but secrecy, obscurity, mystery, and confusion. It’s when witches are likeliest to perform illicit spells and forbidden magic. It’s the one night every lunar cycle when dark magic carries the most power.”
For a long moment, the room stays quiet.
Finally, Vincent lets out a long sigh and reaches into his pocket. He fishes out two vials of truth serum.
“Before we discuss anything further,” the alpha says, “I want you both to drink this so I can confirm the truthfulness of your words.”
I bite back a groan, but when he tosses the vial to me, I readily unstopper it and drink the thing down, wincing at the taste.
Memnon catches the vial lobbed at him, but he just stares at it. I can already tell he’s going to resist the alpha’s commands.
“Memnon.”
The sorcerer looks at me, the corner of his mouth curving up. He removes the cork then and holds it up.
“For you and only you,” he toasts to me, then he kicks the drink back.
The room is quiet as the potion takes effect. I can feel the magic winding around my windpipe and coating my tongue.
“Is everything you told me about the auction and the murders true?” Vincent asks me.
“To the best of my knowledge, yes,” I say.
His gaze shifts to Memnon. “Did she tell the truth?” Vincent asks.
“As she knows it, yes,” Memnon says.
“As she knows it,” Vincent echoes. “And how do you know it?”
Memnon and Vincent stare one another down.
Next to me, Kane rotates, his eyes fixed on my face.
“How did you get this information?” he asks me. What he really wants to know is what happened last night.
I blow out a breath, even as my stomach turns over. That earlier strength I felt is slipping…
You are the strongest person I know, est amage, Memnon says. Take your time. I am here.
I draw a deep breath. “The same woman who tried to bond Cara came for me last night—after the bonfire. Her name is Juliana Fortuna, daughter of Luca Fortuna. She…forced me to bond with her.”
The room is unnaturally quiet for several seconds.
“What?” Kane finally says. His voice has gone deep and gravelly. “You mean to tell me that if you had left the beach with me, this would not have happened?”
Memnon sits forward a little. “What’s this now?” His magic is beginning to unfurl out of him. He hasn’t heard about what happened between me and Kane last night because it wasn’t important. I didn’t realize we were going to have a clash over it.
“Are you still bonded to this Juliana?” the alpha cuts in.
“No,” Memnon cuts in. “I killed the sorceress.”
It’s quiet again, and I imagine Vincent, Apani, Kane, and the pack beta, Irene, are all putting together what they might’ve seen on the news with this information.
Memnon’s gaze narrows on Kane. “By then, she had spent a good hour torturing my mate. I bound the woman to me, forced her to give up the information we just shared, and then I gave her the death she deserved.”
If I expected the shifters to be horrified by Memnon’s implied brutality, I assumed wrong. They all have a slightly feral look about them, but none seem disturbed by the information. If anything, they seem to be reconsidering him.
“An hour?” Kane says, his voice rough. Clearing his throat, he runs a hand over his mouth. “Shit, Selene…” When Kane looks at me again, there is so much pain in his eyes.
I shake my head. “I’m … fine.”
Hate that word, Memnon says down our bond.
To the rest of the room, I say, “Juliana’s death freed a number of supernaturals from their forced bonds, and it’s likely some of them will bring this information to the Politia. If you have a pack member working for the authorities, this is how you can verify our story.”
The room is quiet, almost thoughtful.
“You’re planning on attending the upcoming auction?” Vincent finally asks.
“Yes, we plan on stopping it,” Memnon says. My soul mate looks like he’s relishing the thought, and why wouldn’t he? It’s undoubtedly going to get messy and violent, and Memnon was raised for battle.
Kane looks between us, frowning. “Doing so could get you killed. Why don’t you just let the Politia handle this? If supernaturals are informing them of these forced bonds like you said, they might go after the sorcerers themselves.”
Memnon leans back in his seat. “If these newly unbonded supernaturals do report their experiences to the Politia, and if the Politia believe them, and if the department’s pockets are not too weighed down by Fortuna money, then perhaps they will go after this crime ring. The stars must align just so for those cursed authorities to do anything.”
“The sorcerer has a point, Kane,” Vincent says, his eyes flicking to the shifter sitting next to me. “It’s not clear the Politia will have enough evidence or time to stop the Fortunas before this auction, especially not when they’re likely pooling their resources to hunt down a mass murderer.” Vincent’s gaze moves pointedly to Memnon.
My mate narrows his eyes at the alpha, but before he can say anything, I cut in. “They’re taking my coven sisters.” There is a whole previous lifetime of steel in my voice. “And they’re taking your pack mates.”
Irene growls at my words. “We’re aware.”
I continue. “I’m not willing to risk another supernatural dying or getting bonded against their will because these monsters care more about money than human lives.”
Vincent clears his throat. “We must discuss this with the entire pack before we make a decision about our involvement in this,” the alpha says.
Memnon leans across the table, his entire demeanor going from relaxed to malevolent in two-point-five seconds. “You will not.”
The alpha growls, his eyes shifting. “Think twice, sorcerer, before you challenge me beneath my own roof.”
Memnon’s eyes begin to glow. “We’ve discussed this before: I will not let you put my soul mate at risk because you believe everyone has a right to know this classified information.” The alpha’s growl only deepens, but now Memnon rises, leaning his hands heavily on the table. “Do you want me to tell you how the sorceress broke my mate’s bones one by one? How I heard Selene’s screams through my bond before I could get there? These are not mild people. You do not have to involve your pack in this business, but you will not risk mine.”
The air is crackling with tension. What muscles I can see of the alpha’s are taut. Something is about to happen, unless I put a stop to it.
“Once the sorceress bonded me,” I say, interrupting the standoff, “Juliana commanded me to keep our bond a secret. She then ordered me to be loyal to her above all others.”
Vincent is still squaring off with Memnon, but the other shifters are listening to me, so I press on.
“So if you want to find the shifters who might be under forced bonds,” I continue, “give your pack mates a vial of truth serum and ask each one these questions: One, did you swear an oath to secrecy with someone outside the pack? And two, were you forced to do so against your will?” Vincent has reluctantly torn his gaze from Memnon. He too is now listening to me.
“Exclude any shifters who answer yes to those questions from the meeting,” I say, “and make sure no information gets back to them. Then make your decision.” My gaze moves over Vincent and Irene, Apani and Kane. “As for me and Memnon, you already know our decision. If a fight breaks out, we will defend any shifters present at the auction as well as any other supernaturals there against their will. I hope your pack considers joining us, but if not, then I want to thank you all anyway for considering me a friend of the pack for a time. I will still always consider the Marin Pack friends of mine.”
I stand and nod to each lycan. Vincent and Irene stare at me speculatively. Apani dips her head, and Kane, Kane looks heartbroken all over again.
Nothing more to say, I head for the door. I’ve barely passed Kane when the shifter catches my wrist.
“Selene.”
I stop and turn to him, decidedly ignoring Memnon.
“Swear to me you won’t die.”
I stare down at him, and though I cannot read his mind, I can practically feel his worry and powerlessness. Kane is hemmed in by the will of his pack. And I think right now, he desperately wants to join the fight, or at least protect me from it.
Memnon’s chair scrapes back, then the sorcerer’s heavy hand falls on Kane’s shoulder.
“You’re a good man, Kane,” Memnon says, “and your protectiveness will serve you well as a leader one day. Selene cannot make you that promise any more than I can. But I can vow to you this: I will not willingly lead her to her death.”
Kane stares at me a moment longer, and I nod.
“It will be okay,” I say softly.
It’s as close to a promise as I can make, and it might not even be the truth. Because none of this is okay. Not the forced bonds, not the killings, not the auction, and not the upcoming violence.
But there’s no going back from what happened last night. Not for Memnon and not for me. The only option for either of us is to stop the Fortunas before they stop us.
And hopefully the shifters decide to help.