Fire Kissed (22 page)
“You just saw that thing on her!” he argued. “And you want me to put her in Shadow?”
“The world is turning to Shadow,” Kaye said. “The number of predators will grow.”
“They don’t bother me,” Arman said.
“Probably because she’s more of a mage than you.”
He looked taken aback.
Kaye wasn’t going to apologize. “You were born before Shadow started coming back into the world. She’s lived with it all her life.”
“You’re saying I can’t protect her.”
“She’s got to learn to do that,” Kaye said, thinking of herself too, as a teen. “Instead of shoplifting, she needs to learn to fool the fae. Make herself appear as the greater threat.”
Kaye was inwardly quaking. Who was she to educate a Council member on Shadow?
A thousand years since the last rise and maybe now all of magekind was ignorant of what this advent of darkness meant. Ignorant mages plotting in their Houses against humanity and Order, when the fae were drawing closer. What then? What would the fae do with their lesser brothers and sisters?
“I had no idea she was in danger. Yes, she needs to learn,” Arman said bitterly. “That is, if she survives her punishment.”
Kaye sighed. Bastian was just going to have to wait a little bit longer. “Turn off the light; let Shadow come. I’ll sit with her while she rests. My fire will keep the pests away.”
For a while at least, until she drew the attention of something bigger, meaner, and madder. What then?
Ferro stooped to touch a vacant-eyed soldier on the threshold of Urlich’s apartment. The soldier was alive, breathing, but stupid to the world.
And deeper inside, he found Urlich dead, though no wound was apparent. He wasn’t wearing pants. Looked like he’d died of fright.
At his side, mage Minqua, who was from a house of stealth, said, “Do you think it’s the Eastern Houses? Urlich had ties with them too.”
Ferro shook his head. The setting was too bloodless, too serene. “This is Order. They’ve struck their first blow.”
Minqua looked grim, though he had to have known it was coming. “What now?”
Ferro smiled, excited, though the timing was difficult, what with the news of the pureblood mage causing friction in the ranks. “Call Terre House. We strike back.”
12:47
PM
.
Now she shows up
.
PM
.
Now she shows up
.
Jack had started shaking at five minutes past the hour. He was ragged with anger now. He stayed seated on the steps to the Lincoln Memorial, though he’d spotted Kaye’s approach. If he stood, he might do something, something like grab her or overpower her. Put the bird in a cage.
He darted a glance since he wasn’t safe, not near safe enough to look at her fully, and saw only the red halo of her hair and her black eyes. “Does your fiancé know where you are?”
He shocked himself by sounding mild when he felt so bitter.
“I don’t think so. I was followed, of course, but I lost them.” She towered above him for a moment, a shadow on the white steps, then lowered herself all the way down beside him. Her scent circled his head again, made him want to find where her scent darkened and grew more potent. The thought made him hot with lust for a woman he’d refused to ever touch again.
A group of schoolkids in coats and hats was being led up the steps in a messy line. Thank God. He wouldn’t do anything dumb in front of children. He hoped he wouldn’t.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said. “Couldn’t be helped. I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
“Three days, four hours”—he checked his watch—“fifty minutes.”
He couldn’t breathe.
“I’m so sorry, Jack.”
He had nothing to say to that because sorry couldn’t remotely cover it. Not remotely cover the damage she’d left in her wake. How magelike of her. “Are you safe?”
Let her be safe. So he could have at her.
“I think so,” she said.
“Are you sleeping with him?”
Silence, which was answer enough. Jack had already known—Ferro would’ve demanded it and Kaye was quite the performer—but the silent admission still made heat roar over his skin. Only a kiss before. Now only sex? People had sex all the time for lots of reasons. But Kaye, under Grey’s hands ... Dear God. Laurence was right:
Don’t go there.
His mind would break for sure.
Don’t go there.
His mind would break for sure.
“Please understand,” she said.
“I’m working on it.” He looked away to find some relief, but the grounds around the memorial didn’t have any peace for him, misty as they were with darkness. Violence was rising within him again; he’d better get this over with. “So you wanted to meet,” he prompted. What information was so valuable that she had to climb into bed with Ferro Grey?
Another long silence, but he wouldn’t look at her. If she had something to say, now was the time.
“Are you missing angels?” she asked.
“Yeah.” Still wouldn’t look at her. “A few.”
“Go out in groups. Don’t let anyone do anything alone.”
“Why?” Angels did what was required of them. Avoiding danger was counterproductive to their cause.
“Ferro and some other mages are trapping angels and feeding them to wraiths. That’s how the wraiths are being renewed. They can think more clearly afterward; the hunger doesn’t rule them, so they are useful. They follow orders.”
So the war was on. Of course it was. It had been on forever. Yes, he would warn the others, though they wouldn’t alter their missions to save themselves. More likely The Order would soon command a direct strike. And Kaye was on the side of Shadow.
“Some catch you’ve got there,” he said, sickened all over again.
“You set me up for this,” she shot back.
“I thought we’d decided on a different course of action.”
Silence again. She was so close, he could feel himself circling his arms around her and pulling her tightly to him to protect her. He was afraid he might do just that without thinking. Lock her in his arms here, forever. Until they became stone
together.
together.
“And there’s some uproar over Khan,” Kaye continued. “Ferro feels his position is threatened. He doesn’t like Segue, suggested action against them. They need to watch out too. You need to warn them.”
“Khan doesn’t care about Grey.”
“Still. Ferro’s knee-jerk was to go after Layla.”
“Then all our problems will be solved. Ferro will be dead.” And Jack would be finished with this, finished with her.
“This is bigger than that. It’s not just Grey, Bastian,” Kaye said.
“Don’t call me that.” She might as well burn him again. “What bigger problems?”
But Jack had an idea, considering what he’d found in Urlich’s dirty mind. The plans were vast and so well guarded that The Order hadn’t had a clue.
Jack needed to get inside Grey House. Find the next layer, destroy it too. And then the next and the next and so on until he wasn’t angry anymore.
“If Ferro’s gone,” Kaye was saying, low to his ear, “others are ready and eager to step into his place. There’s a plan at work. You should have seen how excited they got over Khan.”
“Will you screw them too?”
Silence. Good. The wind whipped up the steps and the children babbled at Lincoln’s feet.
“I need to get inside Grey House,” he finally told her.
Her voice was distant, removed. “No. I won’t allow it.”
Was she trying to protect him again? No thanks.
He finally looked her in the face. She was all washed out, pale. Cold-looking. Hungover? “I’m not asking. I need to be inside, and you will get me in. That’s the job you were hired to do.”
“How do you propose I do that?” Circles under her eyes too. “I’m not the man’s wife yet.”
Good strike. It stung.
“You’ll think of something.” Just like that they were back to their old dynamic. Fire and ice. “Invite Segue to Grey House as a gesture of goodwill. The Shadow types can size each other up, and I’ll come along.”
She blinked, considering. Her scars looked starker in her bloodless face. “Segue. I don’t know.”
Jack stood because he was finished here. Had to be. “Make it happen.” He started down the steps. “And Ms. Brand, lay off the drink.”
Ferro breathed deep for calm as he listened on his mobile to Minqua’s report on his new fiancée’s activities. “As you requested, two followed Ms. Brand today: one wraith and myself.”
Kaye had gone “shopping” this morning. He’d assigned her security and staff to assist her, but she’d complained bitterly upon leaving with the group, and so it was no surprise that she’d sent them away at her earliest opportunity. Which was why he’d required two to follow her regardless.
“And?” Ferro prompted.
“The wraith is a pile of stinking barbeque.”
Ferro closed his eyes to control his reaction; Kaye’s temper was lit, but that didn’t surprise him either. He could feel a little bit of her Shadow licking within him. Every time he touched her, he couldn’t help but take a little bit of her Shadow. How did she stand the sizzle and burn day in, day out?
“This happened in public?”
“In a dressing room stall.”
He was sure she would defend her actions vigorously, without a moment of contrition. And he’d have to assure his other wraiths that they would not meet the same fiery end.
She was supposed to be his helpmate, not a liability.
“And did she lose you too?”
“No, sir. She’s on foot, heading across the National Mall.”
“What has she been up to all morning?”
“She just met with her old bodyguard, Jack Bastian.”
“So good to see you again,” Kaye said upon approaching Sigmund and his son, Marcell. The ground of the sculpture garden was thick with Shadow. Why did it feel like she was being watched?
Shadow was playing with her mind. She was here for a key, crafted by her new vassals. But Marcell was still frowning even though they were now basically family.
Her smile faded. There was no pleasing him.
“I wasn’t there last night for your ceremony,” Marcell said, “but you had better believe that I’ll be paying every cent of your fucking sixty percent.”
Kaye was tired of his unrelenting hostility. “All I want is the key. If Lakatos doesn’t want to be associated with Brand, I’ll find a way to release you.” She had no idea how that was done now that their bloodlines were bound by Shadow.
“No,” Sigmund said to Kaye. “You pledged protection for Lakatos. A place for Lakatos in the new world.”
Kaye held up a hand toward Marcell. “If he doesn’t want ...”
“We are bound!” Sigmund said.
But Kaye was looking at the old man, really looking for the first time since approaching them. Sigmund’s skin was sallow, looser even, as if fat no longer softened his skull. His hair was thinner, greasy, and his eyeballs were bloodshot. The old man was wavering on his feet.
“... that I’d take
money
for the life of my father,” Marcell was saying, his voice ruined with sadness and anger. He shook his head back and forth and back and forth in a forever refusal. “No.”
money
for the life of my father,” Marcell was saying, his voice ruined with sadness and anger. He shook his head back and forth and back and forth in a forever refusal. “No.”
Something tightened within Kaye in response, the
no
echoing in her mind. “I don’t understand.”
no
echoing in her mind. “I don’t understand.”
“Let’s finish this,” Sigmund said. He opened a shaking hand to her. In the center of his palm was an ugly thing, bone-white, nubby, streaked with black. Shadow fuzzed its surface.
“The skeleton key?” It looked dirty. She didn’t want to touch it.
Marcell put his arms around his father and seemed to brace himself, though it was Sigmund who seemed in danger of falling over.
“Take it, my lady,” Sigmund said, putting his free hand on his son’s arm. Comfort. “And do right by my son.”
“No.” She stepped back. What had she done? What had she asked?
“I’m an old man already. And there’s no going back,” Sigmund said. “Best you take what you wanted. Make our Houses strong.”
His son heaved soundlessly.
Understanding was coming slowly and reluctantly. Kaye knew that the key—the key to opening anything—had come at a very high price. Way too high, by the looks of Sigmund. And she knew it had something to do with her dismissal of the 60 percent tithe. The son had vowed to pay her regardless.
She’d only been trying to be different from her greedy forebears. She didn’t need her vassals’ money.
Had the Lakatoses thought she’d bought the key with false generosity?
... that I’d take
money
for the life of my father ...
money
for the life of my father ...
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