Lord Manetu, page 12
Chapter 14
Logan’s Raven shifted into his human form just before landing gracefully on his feet next to Kieran. It was a trick he’d perfected and enjoyed using from time to time. Tucking his mate against his side, he asked. “Did you get everyone moved?”
“Yup, all the low-level magic users are protected,” Kieran said, grinning at his mate.
“What about the guards?” asked Logan.
“Taken care of,” replied Dylon. “We’re just waiting for Sawyer and Glenn before we proceed.”
“About that…did Kieran tell you what I learned?” asked Logan.
“The basics, yeah…but I wanted to ask you about the interaction you saw between Gerard Vonner and Zohar,” Dylon said.
“Strange, to say the least,” Logan said. “I know Gerard is a second tier magic user but that’s not what I saw in Zohar’s office.”
“What exactly happened?” Brady asked.
“It appeared Gerard was in charge and Zohar was reporting to him, not the other way around,” Logan said. “Gerard asked the questions and Zohar answered…not at all what you would expect between the head of the Witches’ Council and someone who is below him in the magic world. At the end, Gerard said to Zohar ‘Just remember the price you will pay if you fail.’'
“Whoa, that’s disrespectful to say the least,” Zane muttered.
“I agree,” Mystia said. “No second tier magic user would dare speak to a first level, much less the head of the council, that way.”
Dylon frowned. “Logan’s right…that is strange. What do we know about this guy’s background? Could he really be a first level magic user and if so, why would he want to be listed as a second level one?”
“It’s impossible,” Brady said. “Each magic user’s level is recorded soon after birth.”
“Is it possible for it to be recorded wrong?” asked Dylon.
“A false record of my death was filed,” Remy pointed out.
“True, but the difference is your parents were the ones doing it. That’s not the usual case when a magic user is born,” Brady said.
“Whether he is or not can wait for another day, since he won’t be at today’s council meeting,” Logan said.
“Good point,” Dylon replied. “Time to head to the council chambers and get in place. Brady, why don’t you lead the way?”
“Certainly.” Turning around, Brady took the old familiar path he’d walked so many times before. So far everything had gone to plan with only a few hiccups, but none that would jeopardize the action about to occur. A smile broke out on his face as he realized he was close to achieving his goal.
~/~/~/~/~
Hearing a twig snap, Smokey looked over his shoulder, rising as Ghost walked out of the forest. Stepping away from Kevin’s parents, he asked, “All done?”
Nodding, Ghost stopped in front of Smokey. “Yeah, Ivan is keeping an eye on the yahoos we caught.”
“Are they talking?”
“Not yet…but I’m sure you can persuade them it’s in their best interest to do so. They had trackers like the first bunch but with a twist…this time who ever put them in their collars also wired them to go boom if anyone tried to remove them.”
Smokey’s eyes widened. “No fucking shit! The asshole behind this is certainly playing for keeps. Have you heard from Snow White?”
“No, still silent…how’s Harte?”
Shrugging, Smokey looked over his shoulder at Elen, then grabbing Ghost’s arm, pulled him over to the edge of the forest. “He’s not doing well…he needs to shift but can’t until he regains consciousness.”
Peering over his friend’s shoulder, Ghost noted Harte’s pale face and blue tinged lips. Then shifting his gaze back to Smokey, he asked quietly, “Have you used your voodoo on him?”
“Some…but other than keeping his heart beating, it hasn’t done much good.”
“Smokey, you have to do more…throw everything you got at him. Whoever is hunting Kev’s parents, means business. We gotta get ‘em outta here…like pronto.”
“It’s a risk…it might do more harm than good,” Smokey muttered.
“It’s either that or we move him in his current condition. Take your pick.”
Heaving a big sigh, Smokey turned, heading back to Harte. “Get everyone outta of here, willya? I don’t need an audience…especially if it goes south.” Fear of failure had kept him from using it before, but since he wasn’t going to risk moving Harte again, it left him only one choice.
Kneeling down beside the prone man, he waited until Ghost did as he asked before laying his hand on Harte’s chest. Smokey closed his eyes and prayed to the Great Spirit before beginning. His grandfather’s voice rose up in him, giving him the words taught to him long ago. Then placing his mouth over Harte’s, he exhaled, sending a tiny bit of his lifeforce into him.
Moving back from Harte, Smokey kept his eyes locked on him, hoping it would work. His grandfather’s warning about the use of this powerful incantation echoed in his head, but the alternative of Harte dying pushed it aside. He owed Harte everything after he’d stepped in and saved Smokey when his parents died. Finally, this was his opportunity to repay him.
“Gabriel! Look!”
Smokey had already seen signs that his gamble had paid off. Harte’s lips were returning to their normal color as was his skin. Now all that remained was for Harte to regain consciousness. It seemed like hours, but it was only a few minutes before Smokey saw the first movement of Harte’s eyes struggling to open. Grabbing his hand, he squeezed it, saying, “C’mon old man, it’s not like you to keep Elen waiting.”
“Who you callin’ old?” Harte whispered, weakly returning the squeeze.
“You wanna make me stop? Then wake the fuck up!”
Harte gave a raspy chuckle as he forced his eyes to open, looking first at Smokey before shifting his gaze to Elen. “Are you gonna let him talk to me that way?”
“If it gets you up, then yes, I believe I will,” Elen said, smiling at her husband.
“Feeling better?” asked Smokey.
“My shoulder hurts but the rest seems okay,” Harte responded.
“You need to shift, Harte,” Elen said.
“Elen’s right,” Smokey said. “The sooner the better. I hate to rush you but we aren’t safe here. I can help you into the lake if need be.”
Studying Smokey’s face, Harte failed to find answers to questions he was hoping to see there. Then shifting his focus to the water in front of him, he felt it calling to his narwhal. Muttering a number of curses as his body objected to his effort to sit up, he finally succeeded. The loss of blood from the bullet wound made him weak and, other than waiting for his body to heal more, shifting was the only way to gain back his missing strength. “Yeah…thanks for the offer.”
Smokey stood behind Harte, wrapping his arms around his chest, slowly pulling him up until he was on his feet. Choosing Harte’s uninjured side, Smokey ducked under his arm, letting him lean on him for support. Even so, Smokey could hear Harte’s labored breathing and low moans with each step taken as they neared the edge of the lake. “Almost there.”
“Did you kill them?” Harte whispered, not wanting his wife to hear him.
“Who?” Smokey muttered. “The assholes who shot at you? Yeah, he and his buddies are dead…and Ghost captured the others.” Wading into the cool water, he held onto Harte until they were shoulder deep. “This good?”
“Yeah…just stay out of my way. I need some space.”
After making sure Harte was able to stand by himself, Smokey walked several steps back, but stayed close enough to grab him if he needed to. He could count on one hand the number of times he saw Harte shift but the memory of them was fresh in his mind. The wonderment of seeing a man shift into a narwhal was something precious; there were so few of them left after being hunted to near extinction.
Harte felt his legs shake as Smokey released him, a reminder of how close the men with the guns got to ending his life. As to who and why they shot him, he’d have to ask Smokey when Elen wasn’t with him, but he already knew he wasn’t going to like it. Calling forth his animal, he shifted, relishing the freedom swimming gave him. Heading out to the middle of the lake, he surfaced briefly before diving to the bottom. Sensing Elen’s concern, Harte turned around and headed back, shifting after nudging Smokey’s leg. Popping out of the water, he walked towards Smokey. Grinning broadly, he said, “Before you ask…this old man is good!”
“I can see that,” Smokey replied, his eyes noting new skin where there once was a gaping hole.
Keeping his voice low, Harte said, “Those assholes who shot me are involved in the disappearance of my son. Don’t ask me how I know, but I just do.”
“They were humans,” Smokey murmured. “Did you know that?”
“Humans? All of them?”
“Yup…even the ones Ghost has tied up,” Smokey said.
Harte stared at Smokey in disbelief. “They shot me before I could get a good look at them. Humans…why the fuck are they after us?”
“Good question.” Smokey shifted his gaze to a clearly worried Elen standing on the shore and gave her a thumbs up before returning his attention to Harte. “Whoever is hunting you is still after you, so we need to leave…let’s pick this up after I get you and Elen somewhere safe.”
“Where would that be?”
“The Blackwood Pack. Snow White arranged it.”
“He thinks wolves can protect us against guns?” Harte asked incredulously.
“Yeah…well, it’s a new twist…but even after I told him about you being shot, he insisted the safest place for the both of you was there.” Then seeing the doubt in Harte’s eyes, Smokey continued. “Look we have to go…so why don’t we head there. I’ll check it out and if I have any concerns, I’ll figure out something else.”
Harte hesitated for a moment and then, deciding it was the only option they had he nodded before heading to his wife. He wasn’t happy about staying with wolves but considering the warning his animal was giving him about the danger they were facing, it certainly seemed better than staying where they were.
~/~/~/~/~
The closer they got to the room where the Witches’ Council held their meetings, the more Dylon’s wolf became agitated. Halting the group, he turned around, locking his gaze on Glenn. “How’s your tiger?”
“Pacing and growling…something’s upsetting him,” Glenn replied.
“Same with my wolf,” Dylon growled. “Stay here…I’m going to do a little recon…it’s just too fucking quiet for my liking.”
Grabbing Dylon’s forearm, Glenn shook his head. “Not necessary. I can tell you right now, all of these rooms are empty except the meeting room. The danger our animals are sensing is in there.”
“The meeting doesn’t start for another hour,” Brady said. “Why would anyone be in there?”
“Fair point,” Dylon murmured. He needed more intel before proceeding with the plan. Pointing at Zane and Brady, he said, “I need the two of you to get inside the meeting room and report back who’s in there.”
“Mystia should go too,” Zane said.
“No…her magic might trigger an alarm…one we don’t know about,” Dylon said. “I need to know who’s there and why they came so early. Once you have that info, contact me.”
Nodding, Zane gestured to Brady. “Lead the way.”
Brady’s nerves were starting to get the better of him as he headed to the place where he’d fought and lost so many battles. The few he’d won were why he kept on trying, even though the odds were stacked against him. Mystia once called him an optimist and, in a way, he could see her point but he didn’t view himself as such. No, any belief that his efforts would succeed quickly dissipated after losing his first case. The young, low-level magic user he represented had taken his own life and even now, the gut-wrenching sobs from the young warlock’s mother were still fresh in his mind. From then on, he viewed each case as a life-or-death battle; he promised himself no other parents would ever suffer the pain of losing a child due to the hideous laws enacted by the Witches’ Governing Council.
Stopping at a door, Brady stared at the carvings on it before finally running a finger over the figures. Shivers seized his body. With only a light touch, he could feel immense power pulsing through him. It was greater than he remembered and he wondered if Zohar had amped it up or if he’d just forgotten how strong it was.
“Ready?” Zane asked.
Lost in his thoughts, Brady jerked slightly at hearing Zane’s voice, returning him to the present. Dropping his hand, he muttered, “I am…you?”
“Yup.” Zane’s hand grasped Brady’s then said, “One…two…three…ghost walker.”
And just as before, Brady closed his eyes and stepped forward, stopping only when Zane let his hand go.
“Holy shit!” Zane murmured.
Alarm flitted through Brady. Quickly opening his eyes, he searched for the cause of Zane’s comment but found nothing out of order. Puzzled, he asked, “Are you okay?”
“Me…yeah. But look at this room…it’s a good thing Fionn and Alex aren’t here cuz their dragons would go crazy with all this gold. Was it like this the last time you were here?”
Snorting, Brady said, “Zohar wanted a golden meeting room so the council approved it.”
“What the fuck for?”
“My guess…ego. Usually only the council members are in here unless someone wants to address the council about an issue.”
“Like you.”
“Like me,” Brady said. Then, pointing to a group of men talking, he said, “Zohar isn’t here yet.”
“Who else is missing other than Gerard?” asked Zane.
“Uhmm…” Moving towards the group, Brady circled them, noting each council member who was there. Returning to Zane, he said, “The only other person not here is Thayer White.”
“He’s first level, right?”
“Yes…he never misses a meeting, at least as far as I knew when I was here,” Brady murmured. “There are five council members who will vote the way White tells them to.”
“Really?”
“Yes…Zohar is very clever that way…it’s the reason he was elected head of the Witches’ Governing Council to begin with. He will manipulate any situation to his advantage.”
“Dirtbag.”
“A good description, unfortunately,” agreed Brady.
“Yeah, well…time for him to go. Let’s move closer and see if we can find out what they’re gossiping about.”
Snorting, Brady said, “You make them sound like a bunch of old hens clucking around the water dish.”
Shrugging, Zane smirked. “If the shoe fits…”
“I like how you think,” Brady muttered, heading over to a warlock who prided himself on his importance to Zohar and never missed an opportunity to let everyone else know. Little did Kadin Fadington know what his idol had planned for him.
Chapter 15
Josiah stared at the cluster of buildings down in the valley, watching as a lone figure exited one of them and headed into the woods behind it. Keeping himself well hidden, his eyes warily tracked the shifter’s movements, suspicious that the Alpha of the Rolling Hills Pack might have set a trap for him. Trust in anyone had ceased the moment his contact at the High Council told him about the eyewitness’s sworn testimony. And it was that piece of information that had sent him east.
A fucking eyewitness! Shocked at the news, it took a moment before Josiah understood he was good and truly fucked. Now the only avenue he saw to extricate himself from the situation was to find the witness and eliminate her. So he’d headed to the Rolling Hills Pack to finally meet the Alpha and see what information he possessed that might be able to get him out of this mess.
Snorting faintly to himself, it crossed his mind the trip might turn out to be a fool’s errand, but the Alpha did have ties to his nephews so he might have something of value. He’d forgotten all about the Rolling Hills Pack in his obsession to seize control of his brother’s pack and a phone call from their Alpha offering information about Jackson had been of little interest to him then. But now that he’d remembered the family connection, he was determined to follow any lead, however tenuous.
Hope’s twin sister, who he blamed for Hope refusing his offer of marriage, was now dead. Serves the bitch right. And her sons had left the Rolling Hills Pack. That was one piece of information that came to light in his phone discussion with the Alpha, along with the fact Jackson’s cousins would not be a threat to him if he succeeded in eliminating his nephews. After hanging up, he did his own research on the Rolling Hills Pack, confirming what he’d been told. Satisfied, Josiah agreed to talk with the Alpha who promised it would be worth his while.
But Josiah still had doubts and, when the meeting was unexpectedly canceled, he never pursued the matter—until a few days ago. Learning about who could identify him as the person responsible for the massacre had cold sweat running down his back; a death sentence would surely be his fate if he was convicted. And that’s what he was facing—all because of a fucking eyewitness. Now he was waiting in dark forest above the Rolling Hills’ compound as the lone figure drew closer to him.
Josiah backed deeper into the shadows, his eyes endlessly searching for a possible trap. Exhaling quietly when his fears seemed unjustified, he stepped forward into a small clearing as the man came to a stop. “Alpha Evens?”
“That’s me…and you are?”
“Someone who might be interested in what you’re selling.”
“Then I think you came a long way for nothing.”
Scowling, Josiah growled, “Stop the crap. I came all the way here on your word that the info you claim to have would be of use to me.”
“And it will, but surely you don’t expect me to disclose it until the money’s in my bank account.”
“Of course not, but I need something more than your word before I pay you,” replied Josiah. Fed up with the game the Alpha was playing, Josiah took several steps backward, deciding to walk away from the asshole. Wasting no time, he began to formulate a new plan to save his neck; there wasn’t any fuckin’ way his nephews were gonna beat him.
