Magick Marked (The DarqRealm Series) (17 page)

BOOK: Magick Marked (The DarqRealm Series)
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Rho shrugged and ignored the jab. “It’ll do. Just give me darkness and I’ll sleep like the dead.”

Eldon snorted. “I’ll bet.” He pointed toward a doorway on the far side of the kitchen. “Your room is through those doors and to the right. Last room on the left.”

“We already picked rooms?” Rho asked.

“This place is full of offices. Only one of them has a solid door and no windows. We assumed you’d want it,” Eldon said.

Wow. They were more thoughtful than she’d given them credit for. “Thanks.”

The straps to her backpack cut into her shoulders, reminding her she was still lugging the thing around. Leaning to one side, she let the pack fall to the floor and land with a thud at her feet. She’d packed the contents down so tight she’d forgotten how heavy the damn thing was.

Frederick had asked the coven keepers to make sure she had appropriate attire and gear for any occasion, and they’d taken him literally. From a sparkly dress to leather pants, high heels to watertight combat boots, they’d packed everything she could imagine she’d need. Even a few things she swore she wouldn’t. Attempting to be prepared without knowing where she was going or would end up had proven to be a challenge.

Tim ran his hands across a piece of white butcher paper on the kitchen island. “We were discussing possible suspects. And training.”

Rho shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans and leaned forward to inspect the notes. “The fae?”

Five names had been written as five separate categories on the paper, each one the name of a race.
Shifter. Mover. Werewolf. Vampire. Fae
had been circled and underlined. Twice.

Preshea picked up a pen and leaned forward to prop her elbows on the countertop. “The fae haven’t come forward to either inform the council of a missing relic or to offer assistance. They aren’t represented among us, so they’re suspect. Other than the obvious suspects, of course.”

Eldon glared at her from across the kitchen island. “Do you want to go there again?”

Preshea glared back. “Just because you’re not personally guilty doesn’t mean another mover couldn’t have done it.”

“Movers wouldn’t…”

The conversation faded into background noise as a dull pain crept up Rho’s spine, settling at the base of her neck. If she didn’t know vampires couldn’t get headaches, she’d swear a migraine was brewing.

Rho pushed the pain aside. “You wrote down fae. Why them? What would they want with the Kamens?” She wasn’t sure, but she had a feeling they were going to find out soon.

Eldon glanced at the vampire, uncomfortable with the nearness. He’d been around more vampires in the past few days than he had his whole life, and the exposure was unsettling.

No, the exposure to
this one
was unsettling. Shifters and werewolves were dangerous in their own right, but they weren’t immortal. He wanted to typecast her as the evil, parasitic villain he’d been told all vampires were, but somehow, she was different.

She’d saved his life.

“Eldon?” Preshea’s voice snapped him back to reality.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “What was that?”

“The fae. Care to weigh in on the subject?”

Right, the fae. “It makes sense. They could summon enough magick to counter my spells.”

Preshea settled her hands on her hips. “Are you saying a mover couldn’t?”

He shrugged. “It’s unlikely.”

“Be logical. If you could make the spells, it’s reasonable to assume that someone of your skill level could break them.”

He shook his head. “There aren’t many movers like me. Some of the things I can do… my power level is different than others.”

Preshea took a step forward. “God, you movers are all so arrogant. You think you’re so powerful that no one could ever break any spell you cast.”

Eldon frowned as a dull pain speared through the base of his skull. “I never said that.” What were these sudden accusations, as if his entire race were on trial?

“You don’t have to say anything.” Preshea pointed a finger at him. “It’s written all over your face.”

He took a step forward, pushing his chest into her finger. “Then quit looking at me.” Damn, his head hurt.

She snatched her finger away. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Eldon rolled his eyes and pivoted on a heel to face Tim and Rho, who were standing quietly in the corner, grimacing and rubbing their temples as if they could massage away a headache. With Preshea rattling baseless accusations, he could feel their pain.

“We’re never going to get anywhere if you’re not willing to consider the possibility that a mover could be behind this,” Preshea said.

Eldon spun around to face her again. “What do you have against movers? Because you’re battling me over something I’m not even arguing.” He ground his teeth, trying to push aside the pain knocking around in his brain.

Her brows shot up in surprise. “Not arguing? What do you call this?”

“Are you guys hearing this?” He let out a harsh laugh. “We’re arguing about arguing now.”

Preshea’s brows furrowed. “Quit deflecting.”

“Then quit being a pain in the ass.”

“Stop it! Both of you!” Rho shouted.

Eldon turned in time to see the vampire hit her knees, head clutched in her hands. Tim sagged into the wall beside her, his skin a sickly shade of green.

“Rho?” Eldon rushed forward to crouch at her side. “Are you okay?”

Preshea moved quickly to stand by Tim and pressed her palm against his forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“Side effect,” Rho mumbled miserably into the cheap tile floor.

“What?” Without thinking, Eldon reached out and rubbed her back. Her shirt was soft and cool to the touch, the outline of a sports bra beneath his fingers. The chill of her skin surprised him, but then, he’d never touched a vampire before.

“Stop fighting,” Tim panted, face pressed against the wall.

Preshea’s expression turned from concern to confusion. “The fighting makes you sick? Like, physically sick?”

Rho nodded, forehead still pressed to the tile. “Terrible headache.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Preshea muttered.

Eldon shook his head, as if the movement would help relieve the world’s worst migraine.

After a few minutes of quiet, Tim’s color finally returned to his face. He pulled his head from the wall. “No more arguing.” The command stretched across the room, a tidal wave of intangible authority despite the weak resolve in his voice. He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. “Enough. Let’s just figure this out so we can all go home.”

No one said a word, the answering silence an agreement to new rules based on the uncontrollable circumstances.

But what were the conditions?

He’d read that skin binding could carry some complicated side effects, but he’d never imagined anything like this. They’d bound themselves together in purpose, but the spell would force their compliance on a whole new level. If this small quarrel was any indication, they couldn’t even debate each other.

Son of a bitch.

 

Chapter Thirteen

E
ldon glared at the old-fashioned clock beside his head and fought the urge to blast it to pieces with his bare hands. Every tick felt like an hour, each day a lifetime.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Closing his eyes, he rolled away from the clock and faced the wall. Dull pain spurred his side as his hip dug into the unpadded, industrial-grade carpet. The cold room stank of aged furniture and dust, not at all the inviting space he’d left behind at home.

Sleeping on the floor sucked.

He rolled onto his back again and glared at the ceiling.

Fine. Apparently comfort wasn’t on the menu tonight.

Creak.

And apparently he wasn’t the only one with insomnia.

He glanced at the clock again. Seven forty-five. Nearly sunset. Who could be up at this hour?

They’d voted to change their schedule around for Rho’s sake, not to be accommodating but because they had no choice. The vampire simply couldn’t travel during the daylight hours and she certainly wouldn’t stand for being left behind, so they’d made alternative arrangements.

He blinked his eyes against the darkness and said a silent prayer that the footsteps in the hall didn’t belong to Preshea. Based on his interactions with his oh-so-pleasant teammate yesterday, he’d decided it actually was possible for her to be bitchier than she’d already proven to be. Shocking, really.

Tim wasn’t much better.

And Rho was still too young in vampire years to rise and shine at twilight.

He couldn’t blame them for their collective grumpiness. Every member of the team was balancing delicately on a precarious edge, torn between the need to find the Kamens and the inability to expel frustrated energy. Well, without causing physical pain to each other.

And they’d been stuck like this for days.

Pulling himself off the floor, he squinted and glanced around the room. His eyes burned from lack of sleep and his back ached from the hard floor, but he ignored his body’s protests as he stood up to stretch out his spine.

If sleeping on the floor sucked, then sleeping during daylight hours was impossible. He must have woken up once an hour since sunrise, his body throwing a toddler tantrum about the change to his internal time clock.

Eldon waved a hand at the door, and it opened without a fuss. He stepped through the doorway and tilted his head, listening.

Tap.

Tap.

The sound of sliding locks from the main warehouse door was faint but distinct. What could anyone want in there? He stepped out of his makeshift bedroom before he realized a very important trinket he’d left behind.

Eldon pivoted to reach into the bag leaning against the door and pulled a Glock from his duffel. No point in being stupid. Both hands on the gun, he stood up again slowly and peered around the corner of the doorway.

Still no one there.

Yet every instinct went on high alert. They’d only been here a short time, but something about this felt… abnormal. How absurd was that? He’d only known these people for a few days and already he considered their presence
normal.
Maybe lack of interaction with other movers was turning his brain to mush. Or the spell worked differently than he thought.

Shaking his head to refocus his thoughts, he pressed his back against the wall and forced his body still. His heart beat loudly in his chest, his muscles tensed like a soldier taking his first step into combat. One foot over the other, he crept down the dark hallway. His gun led the investigation around another corner.

No one there, either.

A muffled rumble came from the door to his left. Obviously, Tim wasn’t awake yet. The wolf snored like a freight train.

He stepped quickly toward the noise still coming from the main warehouse entrance. That room had become headquarters, the place where they’d spent these past several days milling over possible suspects and strategy. Every time someone started a disagreement, they’d had to split into separate rooms to avoid a massive migraine.

Which was unbelievably irritating. They still had so much to accomplish, and that binding had done nothing but set them further and further behind. He didn’t need to be reminded again that the whole spell had been his idea. The tattoo on his palm and the tingling whenever his teammates entered a room reminded him every day.

And still they didn’t have a plan.

God, he wanted to be home. To sleep in his soft bed and suck back a glass of Macallan and see his sisters, so long as they didn’t nag him to death. Maybe even if they did.

He’d never admit it out loud, but he missed them already. He missed giving Jess lectures about coming home too late and telling Adelle to clean up her potion-making messes. He missed watching his sisters run the store, as their mother had all those years ago. Being away from them was harder than he’d thought it would be.

“What are you doing?” a female voice asked.

Eldon wheeled around, finger teasing the trigger of his pistol. Familiar icy blue eyes met his. He lowered the weapon. “Damn, Preshea. Don’t you know better than to sneak up on someone with a gun?” He’d been so lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t heard her come up behind him.

“Not when they’re snooping.”

He lifted a finger to his lips and spoke in a whisper. “Not snooping. I heard something.”

She raised a brow. “Investigating?”

“That’s the idea.”

“I’ll check the perimeter.”Nodding, she closed her eyes.

“What are you—”

Pop.

Gold particles trickled through the air and Eldon blinked against the shimmering dust.

Chirp. Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp.

He glanced down then bit his tongue to keep from busting out laughing.

At his feet sat a tiny bird, glaring up at him with those same pale eyes. Preshea had taken form as a black and white warbler, the contrasting feathers striping her little body. She preened for a moment before stretching out her wings.

Surely she didn’t plan on—

Preshea took to the air, flapping her wings sporadically before landing into a solid, steady rhythm. She landed gracefully on a window near the ceiling then slipped out of a hole in the glass and disappeared.

Well, wasn’t that convenient. He headed down the hallway and slammed his hand into the wood door. It flung open, just in time to catch a fully dressed female heading out of the warehouse.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Eldon waved a hand to flip the light switch on the wall.

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