Chapter 12
JAMISON
It took everything in me not to pull Phaedra into my arms. The hurt in her eyes nearly brought me to my knees, but trusting isn’t easy.
For any of us. I need her to understand the gravity of hiding her feeling, her past, so we can find a way forward.
Although I’m not a hundred percent sure if that’s even possible.
I can see Hawthorne coming around, but Mathias? His daughter is everything to him.
Hawthorne shifts in the seat beside me. “I overheard you and Phaedra on the porch. Do you think she means it?” When I look at him, he continues. “She said she fell for us too. Did you get the sense that she was telling the truth?”
Hawthorne knows I can tell when someone’s lying.
I don’t know if it’s a power I have or something I developed from dealing with my father, but I’ve always been able to tell truth from lies.
I pause. Maybe that’s why I felt blindsided by all this.
Phaedra didn’t lie. She avoided the truth.
Different sides of the same coin but enough that I couldn’t clearly see she was hiding something big.
I think back to the discussion with her and the flare of happiness that surged through me when I heard her words. “Yes, but is it enough?”
He lifts a shoulder. “I want it to be, but how do we trust her again?”
“I don’t know,” I admit with a heavy sigh. Letting her into our circle was hard the first time. I keep trying to see this from her angle, but my anger keeps getting in the way.
Knowing we need to focus, I unroll the paper in front of me and reach for a pen. “Let’s go over the plans. I don’t want Caron slipping through our grasp.”
The flight is smooth and time flies as we settle on a plan for the meeting.
Landing at a private airfield two hours north of London in Birmingham, we slip into our disguises, then transfer from the jet into a waiting Range Rover.
The last thing we want to do is alert the council that we’re in the country.
A half hour later, we’re parking at Cadbury World. Oddly enough, it’s the perfect place for a meeting. Multiple entrances and exits. Crowds of people but small enough to easily find someone. And as long as we’re disguised, the sheer number of cameras provides built-in protection from an ambush.
We follow the path until we come to the statue of Terpsichore, the Greek goddess of music and dance. The second we get near, Caron falls into step with us, a bar of chocolate in his hand. Tall, with ice-blond hair, he looks more like a warrior with his broad shoulders and muscular physique.
“Want some?” he offers without looking at us.
Hawthorne dips his head and snaps off a square.
“Thank you for your kindness.” After eating it, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gold coin, which he gives to Caron.
The exchange is a ritual Elves have followed since time began.
A show of good faith and a willingness to share in their fortune.
Caron slips the coin into his pocket. “How did you find out about me?”
Several kids walk by, chatting and laughing, and I take advantage of it. “Mercer let us borrow her car. When we parked it at the British Museum, you stepped out of the portal with her.”
A huge sigh leaves him, and he murmurs, “I should have known she wouldn’t betray me.
” He chuckles. “Damn, she’s going to make me pay for not trusting her.
” There’s something in his voice that makes me think he’s looking forward to it.
When I raise an eyebrow, he shakes his head.
“Doesn’t matter. What does matter is how I got into this mess. ”
He swerves slightly to avoid a kid, then continues.
“As Osian’s younger son, I knew I didn’t want to follow in my father’s corrupt footsteps.
The council held no appeal for me. Neither did an aristocratic life full of boredom and parties.
For a long time, I drifted. Didn’t know what I wanted to do. Until I found Harlequin…and Bennett.”
I exchange a glance with Hawthorne, then lift a shoulder. “Who’s Bennett?”
“He created Harlequin,” Caron informs us, looking surprised.
“Well, he and Mercer did, although he’s head of the organization.
Disillusioned with our aristocratic society, he wanted a way to accumulate power, enough to rival the council’s, and he succeeded.
Surpassed it even, I’d say. His reach is everywhere, which is how he found out about Phaedra and the role she plays for the gods.
Curator, thief, spy, protector of humans.
When she started using Mercer as a supplier, Bennett quickly became obsessed with her. ”
Hawthorne reaches out and grabs Caron with one fist, jerking him to his toes as he yanks him closer. “What do you mean he’s obsessed with Phaedra?”
I place a hand on his shoulder. “Easy. We’re attracting attention.”
He glances around, then pulls Caron in for a hug. “If you attempt to run, I’ll have every elf in this world hunting you down. Not to mention what I’ll do to you when I find you.” Releasing him, he slaps him on the back, hard, then takes a step away.
After a second, everyone goes about their business.
“Go on,” I order Caron, my own patience coming to an end.
Caron sweeps his gaze over Hawthorne and blanches.
“We all thought the gods abandoned this world. When Bennett realized they might still be in play, he became hyper focused on why. He started delving into Phaedra’s past, tracing every miniscule lead, and eventually, came up with the theory that she was the one who opened the portals. ”
“How?” Hawthorne interjects in a hard tone.
Caron shrugs. “He’s not exactly the sharing type but he has a library of ancient texts that he’s accumulated over time. My guess is he found enough evidence to support the theory.”
I exchange a worried glance with Hawthorne.
Caron continues. “At first, he worried about Phaedra finding a way to open the portals again. If that happened, he thought the gods would force all the supernaturals to leave and magic would slowly die out. Magic is his lifeblood. The thought of it not existing terrified him. Not only did he start tracking Phaedra’s every movement, but he also started collecting Greek artifacts and destroying them. ”
My brow furrows in confusion, and he clarifies. “He didn’t know what vessel she used to open the portals the first time. History books are sort of vague about that detail.”
Caron sighs. “Bennett made a huge mistake, though. One of his vampire contacts told him about the ancient Greek panel and key Nolan had in his collection. Bennett approached Nolan, told him he was an avid collector, and offered to buy the items from him. Curious, Nolan invited him to his manor to talk about it. When he got there, he showed it to him. The second Bennett saw the gods depicted on the top panel, he realized it was important, but he failed to hide his excitement from Nolan.”
His voice drops. “And we all know, Nolan was a wily old bastard. He was immediately intrigued. Why would a powerful mage like Bennett care about ancient Greek artifacts? So, he refused to sell him the pieces. Then he started digging into Bennett.”
Bennett is a mage? Is he the one we’ve been looking for all along? According to Caron, he’s powerful, connected, and driven. The pieces fit. My senses are tingling, the way they always do when we’re close to finding our enemy.
“Damn. Bennett killed Nolan,” Hawthorne interjects, bringing me back to the discussion.
“He did,” Caron confirms. “He knew that if Nolan died, his collection would be put up for auction. Available for the taking. At least until the next successor was chosen.”
Hawthorne’s eyes dart to mine, realization in their depths.
“Unfortunately, Letz decided to take the panel and key and sell them, setting off a chain of events none of us anticipated.” Caron’s voice is rough, as if all this is getting to him. “Bennett sent me to collect the items before they got to Sia and Dr. Kline.”
He darts a nervous look around us, then moves closer. Hawthorne tenses, ready to intercept, but I give him a subtle sign to stand down. “Then Sia was killed and the top panel stolen by humans. Bennett didn’t know the humans were working with both mages and vampires, so he assumed Phaedra took it.”
“She doesn’t have it,” I insert in a tone that leaves no doubt.
“I know,” he murmurs to my surprise. “He sent men to break into her condo. They told Bennett she didn’t have the panel or key.
” Magic races around my fingers, aching to be released against the elf in front of me.
“He eventually figured out Letz still had the key. He tracked him to the warehouse where he was meeting with Phaedra. It was his men who attacked the council’s security forces that day. ”
All those men he killed. And… “He killed Letz. Didn’t he?”
Caron gulps. “Not him personally, but one of the humans he recruited.” He winces as he says it, knowing the distinction won’t matter.
Blowing out a careful breath, I draw a circle with my finger, and a magical noose slips around Caron’s neck.
He stiffens and claws at it, but he doesn’t have the power to remove it.
Amused, I smile as he slowly realizes he’s dealing with two very pissed-off supernaturals who could break him with very little effort.
Hawthorne raises a brow, and I sigh at his silent message.
We need more info. I let the noose dissolve.
The information swirls around my brain as I try to connect all the dots, but it feels like something is missing.
“Bennett created the knife. The one that slices through magic.” The one that killed Letz, and probably all the other magical gadgets too, like the spectrometer that identifies supernaturals.
Caron’s gaze drops as he nods. “Bennett likes to combine human objects with magic, changing their form and purpose. It suits his sense of irony and feeds the injustice he feels because the gods made us agree to the treaty, the one where we have to hide for the rest of our lives.”
His tone suggests he agrees with Bennett on this subject. Does everyone who’s a part of Harlequin feel that way? It’s concerning that a powerful underground organization opposes the status quo, especially as we now know the gods are still watching.
Hawthorne tilts his head and considers Caron’s words. “I assume the vampires know Bennett killed Nolan. Is that why they had the humans steal the top panel from Sia? So, they could wage war against the mages?”
“Yes and no,” Caron confirms, but his next words throw us for a loop. “They know Bennett killed Nolan, and they’re at war with the mages and rebelling against the council. But they only think they have the top panel. They don’t.”
Hawthorne and I look at each other with a frown.
Caron takes a deep breath. “Letz had the panel and key stashed separately. But I was able to get a hold of the top panel before it left England. I created a copy and switched it with the original before it got to Sia.”
I shoot him an incredulous look. That was unexpected. No wonder the pieces wouldn’t fit together. We were missing an important variable. Him.
He lifts his hands. “I had to. At first, Bennett wanted to destroy the panels, but he changed his mind. He thinks whoever holds the box will control the portals, and he wants that power. Badly. What he’ll do with it, I don’t know, but it won’t be good.”
“You have the panel?” Hawthorne asks.
“Bennett doesn’t know, but yes,” Caron cautiously confirms.
A sense of relief hits me. Technically, the mages and Bennett have nothing. Not the key or a panel. We owe Caron big time. “What do you want?”
Caron shakes his head. “Nothing right now. It’s an insurance policy.
I’m holding on to the panel until I see who’s winning this war.
All I care about is Mercer.” He looks at Hawthorne.
“You know, a lot of elves would follow you if you kicked my father out. Young supernaturals are turning to people like Bennett because they don’t have anyone to look up to.
It’s what I did.” There’s a note of disappointment in his voice directed at Hawthorne, whose only response is a tic in his jaw.
Caron hands me an envelope. “If you learn of my death, contact Mercer. Explain everything and give her this. She’ll get the panel to you. ”
Hawthorne grabs his arm as he moves to step away. “Why did you decide to tell us?”
“Because you’re willing to defy the council to stop this war, and you care about Phaedra, which means you’ll find the right path forward, not one chosen by supernaturals or gods,” he murmurs, hope stirring in his eyes.
“How do we find Bennett?” I ask quickly before he disappears.
He stares at me for a second, then his mouth lifts in a grim smile. “Ask your father.”