“Bea…” I was supposed to set her free. I’d promised. I’d fucking promised and I’d failed her. I’d failed to protect her.
“She fought back hard,” Willow said.
The pain…how much pain? Heat filled my chest. Rage, swirling and growing, eating away at the numbness.
“I had to hold her down and squeeze her throat to stop her from growing in size,” Willow continued mechanically. “She was brave, and look… Now she gets to be outside the house.”
Outside where I’d promised to take her.
But not like this.
Never like this.
Something inside me snapped with a visceral crack, unleashing a tsunami of inky black rage that flooded my body.
The world went dark.
LORENZO
I’ve lied to my son about my involvement with the council and lied to the consortium by not reporting what Tate told me about Quinn. The latter I do not regret. Membership to the consortium is secret in order to prevent assassinations, blackmail, and kidnapping of the select few responsible for making the decisions that affect the City.
Only those of us who are part of the consortium know the names and faces of our comrades, so if any attempt on a life were to occur, it would be easy to pinpoint the culprit who leaked the victim’s identity.
I adjust my cuffs with a sigh and pluck a bit of lint off the sleeve of my blazer. The dress code for consortium meetings is always formal. I smooth my hair back and study my dapper reflection. Almost a hundred and fifty and looking not a day over thirty-five. I can’t be mad about that, except…life can get lonely sometimes.
Maybe I should have married a Mageri woman and settled down. Maybe if anyone had captured my heart. But none I’ve met can hold a candle to Tate’s mother.
A face flashes in my mind, stunning blue eyes, silver hair. Feisty, pushy. A challenge. Tate’s friend Orina certainly left her mark on my memory.
I shake off the thoughts and glance at my watch before focusing on the mirror again. Any second now…
My reflection shimmers and vanishes, replaced by a white corridor.
Bang on time.
I step through the mirror into the Consortium Enclave, location undisclosed, accessible only by portal.
My shoes clip on the marble floor as I make my way to the lift. The doors close behind me, and I barely register the movement as we rise to the pinnacle of this building.
The doors open onto a checked tile floor and a view of mist and mountains. Several figures stand about chatting, teacups in hand. All male because the Mageri, despite assertions otherwise, are a sexist bunch.
“Ah, Lorenzo, so good to see you.” Alfred approaches with a beaming smile, gray eyes twinkling. He’s buzz cut his silver locks and the cheekbones most ladies go insane over are accentuated. “You’re looking well.”
“You too.”
Benjamin saunters over with a smirk. “Do you believe the shit Balthazar is spewing? That there’s a Lycan with taint genes running around outside the faewilds?”
The youngest of the council, Benjamin has no qualms about cursing.
“No.” I smile thinly. “The idea is simply too farfetched. The taint cannot leave the boundary.”
“Exactly,” Alfred says. “And we’ve picked up no trace of the taint in Hawthorne. The Faoladh continue to defeat it in the faewilds trials.”
Allies then. Good. I glance over Alfred’s shoulder and catch Benedict’s eye. The oldest of the nine, the leader and tie breaker in any vote, Benedict takes nothing for granted and considers every petition with the same methodical care and importance.
A bell sounds, seats push up out of the floor behind us, and blinds slide down to cover the windows and the misty view.
I cross the room to my seat, and as soon as I’m settled, a small table with a touchscreen panel appears in front of me.
Everyone is seated in shadow and the center of the room is the only lit area.
“We’ve received a petition from Balthazar Remy claiming to be witness to taint activity outside of the hot zone,” Benedict says.
“Isn’t this Balthazar a paid lackey for the high alpha?” Alfred asks, as if we aren’t all aware.
“Yes,” Benedict says. “But his status does not make his petition any less valid, nor can his concerns be ignored.”
“Of course,” Alfred concedes. “Please continue.”
“We will hear Balthazar’s testimony in full momentarily, after which we will discuss and vote on an appropriate course of action.”
“You mean a cull,” Benjamin says.
“If needed.”
The lights in the center of the room dim further and then a holographic image of Balthazar appears. He stands tall, head held high, looking straight ahead—probably at the eye he’s received through which to communicate with us.
“Good evening, Balthazar,” Benedict says.
His voice sounds normal to us, but Balthazar will hear an altered mechanical voice to preserve the council member’s identity.
“Good evening, Mr. Speaker.”
“Please recount to us what it is you saw.”
“A young female by the name of Quinn Darkmore used the taint’s signature dark power to attack several Lycans in Raventhorn territory.”
“Tell us what led to this attack.”
“The female exhibited extraordinary abilities in the high alpha’s maze. Her beast was…Well, it looked like a Faoladh, and the high alpha wished to keep her. The female did not wish to be shackled.”
I can’t help myself. “So, she defended herself?”
I can sense Benedict’s irritation but ignore it. We’ll be permitted to ask questions soon enough, so why not now?
“I…yes, I suppose so,” Balthazar says.
“Was anyone killed?” Alfred asks.
“No. But that’s beside the point, surely. Her power is taint. I’m sure of it.”
“And have you ever seen the taint’s power?” I ask.
He frowns. “No, but I’ve heard of it. We were told what to look for. Inky black tendrils of power, shadow manipulation, that kind of thing. She did that.”
“Onyx mages can also manipulate shadows,” Alfred reminds him. “Are you sure she wasn’t exhibiting onyx mage abilities along with Faoladh?” There is humor in his tone.
He doesn’t believe this, and no surprise. Balthazar is known as what we call a glory chaser. A Mageri born to a family fallen from noble status and desperate to regain his footing on the social ladder. A validated taint sighting like this would put him back on the map as the Mageri who saved the world.
“I know what I saw,” Balthazar says.
“And you say this female, this…Lycan who has a Faoladh for a beast came from Hawthorne and returned there at your command?” Benedict asks.
“Yes. She’s been living in Hawthorne for several weeks now.”
“And yet, not a peep from our detection charms,” Alfred says. “How strange.”
Balthazar presses his lips together. “I don’t know about that. I only know what I saw…what I felt. I felt the ancient darkness. That female carries the taint within her, and if she was able to get past the wards, it means only one thing: the taint is not an infection in her, but a part of the fabric of her being, interwoven with whatever other natures she possesses. Enough to confuse the boundary. Enough to hide. It means the taint has procreated.”