Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
I zetta’s hand inched toward the folding knife she’d picked up during her shopping spree. She could feel the weight of it inside the pocket of her jacket, beckoning her to put an end to Devries’s posturing. It wasn’t as good as her custom blades, but it would get the job done.
“Hmm?” the Alpha prompted. His breath smelled like ham and mustard. “Why’d you leave my boy behind? Was it just so you could lead the rest of my pack into a trap and hand over my territory to your Undead boss?”
Izetta’s fingers brushed the outside of her pocket and felt the outline of her knife. As if reading her intent, the wolves tightened the circle, every breath pulling them closer. It was a motley group. Those not wearing fur dressed in graphic tees and ragged jeans. But there was nothing casual about the way their eyes followed her every motion. They were primed for violence.
She recognized this game of threaten-the-stranger. The reasonable part of her knew there were too many wolves to fight, but a slice of her soul itched to gamble. There was a reason she’d courted death in the arena in front of a roaring crowd—but she wasn’t deciding for herself alone. Errata hadn’t signed up for recreational carnage.
Izetta drew her hand back, putting an end to temptation. “Rafe ran interference so I could get free and find help. I was in a bad way.”
The Alpha’s brow furrowed. “He couldn’t run himself?”
He wasn’t bothering to disguise the worry beneath his words now. However difficult Rafe’s relationship was with his father, there was no question the elder Devries cared about his son. Beside her, Errata shifted nervously. If the werecougar had been wearing her tail, it would have been thrashing.
“No,” Izetta replied. “He risked his own safety to ensure I survived.”
Puzzlement flickered in the Alpha’s eyes. “What was he thinking?”
“Rafe is a good friend, and I don’t have many.” Begging this Alpha almost physically hurt, but she steeled herself. “That’s why I’m here, asking for your help. Please.”
Devries made a noise of derision, but he stepped back, taking his ham breath with him. “His job was to save the pack, not a vampire.”
“I could get past the fae. He couldn’t. It was a practical choice.”
“How is sacrificing my son practical?”
Izetta shrugged, refusing to be rattled. “I could ask you the same thing. Are you really going to leave your son to rot in a fae prison, or are you going to help me get him out?”
Devries’s shoulders hunched with tension. “As a father, I say yes. He’s my boy. As an Alpha, I see a fool who can’t remember his pack comes first. And then there’s the wolf, who sees a bloodsucker standing where his flesh and blood should be.”
Errata made a noise low in her throat. The werecougar had been so silent, Izetta had almost forgotten her. She held up a hand to keep the cat from interfering. The Alpha was close to crossing the line, but she’d give him another inch before teaching him a lesson.
“Decide what you want to do,” she told him, voice cool. “I will keep asking anyone I think worthy of the fight.”
He leaned in again, eyes going a wolfish gold. “And you think I’m worthy, do you?”
Izetta could feel the eyes of the wolves following her every movement. She stepped forward, showing them all she wasn’t afraid. “Not everyone can stand up to the fae. That’s why I came to you.”
The werewolf laughed, but it wasn’t pleasant. Neither was his huge hand squeezing her shoulder so hard she felt the bones shift. “Flattery won’t get you far, darling.”
Fast as thought, the knife was in Izetta’s hand. The shiny blade flicked open with a glint of silver. “Don’t ever call me darling,” she said, her voice dropping to a snarl. “You’re not my Alpha dog.”
The air in the room all but crackled. Devries’s gaze fixed on the knife, twin spots of color flaring on his cheekbones. Izetta’s jaw ached with the urge to bite. One of the wolves whimpered.
A car honked outside, startling them all. Errata spun toward the door with a hiss.
“Who’s on watch?” Devries waved toward the door, sending the flunky who had ushered them into the room scurrying to obey. The circle of wolves broke, fading back so he could pass.
The Alpha folded his arms and glared at his guests. If she had to guess, he was both annoyed and relieved at the interruption. Truth be told, so was she.
A moment later, the wolf returned. “Someone’s here to see you, boss.”
Devries answered with a snarl. “Who?”
“It’s vampires. Mr. Malatest.”
“Really?” Errata muttered under her breath. “What’s he doing here? ”
A speculative murmur rippled through the room, but Izetta had expected this. She’d rattled Malatest’s cage, and any crime boss worth his salt would keep tabs on her movements. He’d know she’d gone to his chief rival and would get here quick to do some damage control.
She snapped the knife shut with a flick of her wrist. “Now the real conversation begins.”
“What does that mean?” Devries muttered.
Izetta flashed fang. “Either we learn to play together, or the fae get away with literal murder. My guess is that you’re too good an Alpha to let Malatest take all the glory.”
Errata’s eyebrows shot up, but Izetta had said what she needed to say. She’d met a thousand Devries in her time. They were bullies, sometimes cruel ones, and yet they could make excellent partners in a fight. The trick was to set the ground rules before they did.
His chin jerked up defiantly. “Don’t push me.”
“What you do is up to you,” Izetta said, pocketing the knife. “Me, I don’t leave friends behind, so I’m in the fight whether you like it or not.”
She felt the Alpha’s anger like a wash of heat, but Malatest chose that moment to swan through the door, a train of flunkies on his heels. Devries swung to face the newcomers, a low growl rumbling through his barrel-chested frame. His wolves sprang to attention, intercepting the vampires until he waved his pack aside.
“What do you want, Malatest?” he growled.
“I need soldiers. We have a score to settle with the fae.”
The words came out clipped, more an order than a request. It was exactly the wrong tone. The werewolves stirred anew, slouching and resentful.
“I thought you wanted no part of the hunt for the Magician,” Izetta put in, more to needle him than anything else. “What changed? ”
Malatest cast her a resentful look, then reached into the pocket of his long coat. He drew out a long chain studded with freshwater pearls. He held it up, the ornate chain softly glinting as it swung from his hand. The last time Izetta had seen the necklace, it had been around Sadie’s neck. Her stomach sank as she remembered the girl lingering in Malatest’s office. Malatest kissing her. The insouciant swing of her hips as she slipped out his door.
“She proved more curious than smart,” the vampire king said, his face like stone.
Errata’s breath caught. “What happened?”
He held the chain higher, twisting it so that the light from the bare bulb in the ceiling caught the links. “I’ve heard two different stories in the last hour. I’ll hear a dozen more by morning.”
“Malatest?” Izetta asked softly.
“After Sadie left my office, she went out with friends. I had her followed. There was still a chance we could catch the Magician alone, remove him quietly from this world, but he was nowhere in sight.” He cleared his throat. “She went to a dance club frequented by a mixed supernatural crowd. That much everyone agrees on.”
“What don’t they agree on?” Izetta asked.
Malatest’s mouth twisted, as if what he was about to say tasted bad. “Some say she met the Magician and fell under his spell. She went mad for love and walked into the rising sun.”
Devries made a sound of disbelief. “That’s a storybook tale.”
The vampire king raised a brow. “Every story involving the fae is a thinly disguised horror tale.”
“What really happened?” Izetta asked.
“Sadie got bored and found someone selling bacchante. She was too fragile for the drug.” There was real grief in his voice.
Izetta’s chest twisted with compassion she didn’t want to feel. Malatest was easier to despise than to pity—but even Devries was nodding slowly .
“I’m sorry to hear of another loss,” the werewolf said, his tone formal. “Both our communities have paid a price. But what is bacchante?”
Malatest stuffed the necklace back in his pocket, his expression grim. “He’s killing our people with a substance masquerading as a drug. It might be magic or chemical or both, but he is the source.”
A mutter ran through the crowd of wolves. Izetta couldn’t help wondering which of the young ones already knew exactly what the rogue fae offered and yet hadn’t breathed a word of it to their sworn Alpha. Rebellion and recklessness were often twins.
“I need your soldiers,” Malatest repeated. Half the iron haughtiness in his voice was grief, but it still sounded like an ill-considered command.
“And what do the wolves need, leech?” The Alpha bristled, his sympathy forgotten. “What gives you the right to march into my den and make demands?”
An angry clamor rose. Izetta heard car doors slamming outside. If she guessed right, more vampires were arriving to back up their boss.
“Wait.” Errata stepped forward, slicing the air with her hand. Her dark hair swung as she looked from Devries to Malatest, quelling them with a fierce green glare. “Stop talking and listen. We all want the same thing.”
Izetta reached out to grab the cat’s sleeve, certain she’d lost her kitty mind. Provoking two of the most powerful supernaturals in town wasn’t a good survival plan. Devries opened his mouth to speak, but Errata held up her palm, stopping him mid-gape. Long claws sprouted from her fingertips as they watched. A gentle reminder she wasn’t just a helpless fluff they could bully.
At the sight of the claws, Izetta felt the situation slip out of her control. She stepped back, making herself wait and see how it would play out.
“Think this through.” Errata paced from one leader to the other and then back, her movements smooth and eerily quick. “We all want to stop the Magician and anyone helping him, and Rafe is being held captive. He deserves to be rescued. Those are easy goals if we don’t start off by fighting.”
“And you think lecturing us will help?” Devries demanded, finally finding his voice.
Errata stopped in front of him, poking his chest with a claw. “I’m trying to make you understand you have a common interest.”
“Why?”
“I’m neither vampire nor wolf,” she said, finally stopping to claim the center of the room. “I favor neither side, and I know the laws and pacts that rule among all our kinds.”
“Good for you,” Malatest retorted. “How does that matter?”
“You’re both waiting for the other to commit to an invasion of the way station.”
The two leaders exchanged wary looks.
“Neither one of you wishes to proceed without guarantees.”
“We’re not stupid,” the vampire king agreed.
Errata gave a satisfied nod. “Then, if you allow it, I will help you negotiate an agreement that shares the risk and the glory between you both.”
“That’s a bold proposition,” Malatest said. “And a difficult one.”
“Easy wouldn’t be worth my effort.”
“What do you get out of this?” Devries demanded.
“People do like to ask me that.” A hint of impatience crept into Errata’s voice. “I get the satisfaction of stopping the Magician. I don’t want this problem reaching my home town. I want our cubs to live.”
“How very noble,” Malatest said with a sneer. “I think the truth is you’re here to make your name. You’re an entertainer, a radio personality with dreams of scooping a hard news story.”
Errata tensed, a fine tremble of anger passing over her. But the cat woman had self-control. She smoothed her hair from her eyes and gave him a pointed smile. “You want hard? I’ve negotiated intellectual property rights with telepaths. You two are well within my wheelhouse.”
The werecougar had the confidence to give her words weight. Malatest looked away, pretending to brush a wrinkle from his sleeve.
“I do far more than talk shows,” Errata added. “I make people pay attention to what matters.”
Izetta leaned on one hip, hands loose at her sides, ready to fight. This would either be a slam dunk or a bloodbath, and Izetta wasn’t an optimist. The uncomfortable pause lasted until Devries rolled his eyes to the ceiling, visibly giving in.
“Why is it that cats always think they’re in charge?”