Tethers (18 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Phoenix asked me to meet him at the courthouse after dark. I secretly couldn’t wait to give the Senate a smug smile. I was a few minutes late, and when I entered the room, Phoenix was already in full swing.

“I leave for a couple of weeks, and this is what goes on? Extinction? What were you thinking?”

“We were thinking we didn’t need a civil war on our hands,” Layla said.

“Have you been reading the papers?” James demanded. “It’s anarchy out there. The public are freaking out about this.”

“So you decide to take away the single best reason why we aren’t being invaded?” Phoenix paced in front of them as I slipped into a seat. “Do you think the British Vampire Association was the only group with such aspirations? We are a tiny country. The werewolves are our life force, the only thing stopping higher powers from stomping all over us. And all this because you panicked?” He stopped walking and glared at them.

“In case it’s escaped your notice,” James said snottily, “one of the Senate was murdered. You don’t even seem bothered, never mind worried, that one of us will be next.”

Phoenix waved a hand dismissively. “That’s shifter business. It has nothing to do with the Senate. If someone wanted to attack the Senate, they would pick off those of us who aren’t supported by a massive group of people. They would have chosen
you
first, James.”

I
had
wondered if the Senate members were truly at risk, or if maybe the werewolf attacks and the shifter murders were one and the same—a way of removing power from the situation. But why wouldn’t they go harder, like trapping the Senate inside the courthouse then setting it on fire. That kind of scheme had been tried before; I glanced over my shoulder, wondering if the building had an emergency exit.

As I was looking, the main doors burst open, and the paragon strode in, as confident as ever.
No, cocky.
As if he knows plenty we don’t.

He gave me a brief sneer before striding past me and toward the front of the room. He relaxed into a seat then waved a hand at Phoenix. “Oh, did I interrupt? Go ahead. I’m interested in hearing what you have to say. I have a newspaper interview to finish tomorrow.”

Phoenix’s face turned thunderous. The paragon hadn’t been invited along to the festivities, and there had been a lot of backlash in the newspapers over Mac’s unsolved death, the way the Senate had changed their minds so rapidly on the proposed werewolf extinction, and the fact that they weren’t making an obvious attempt to protect humans. People were scared, and I couldn’t blame them. Phoenix and I had to do everything we could to solve the murders before something worse happened.

“What are you trying to do to us?” Phoenix demanded. “Do you want to scare humans into murdering everyone they suspect is supernatural?”

The paragon smiled. “Now why would I want to do something like that?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Phoenix said. “And for your information, I’m going to track down the real killer, and I’m going to personally punish them.”

“I’m sure you will,” Regis said, keeping his face blank. “That’s all any of us want, isn’t it? To punish the werewolves for their crimes.”

“The werewolves didn’t do this.”

“They’ve done it before. Or was there some other explanation?”

A war was fought across Phoenix’s features, but he didn’t tell the truth. I just hoped he was right to protect a demon, of all things.

“Well,” the fae prince said at last, turning back to the Senate. “I invited Ava Delaney here so that the Senate could give her a full apology for trying to lock her up in the old Council cells, and—”

“I wasn’t there for that,” Daimhín said.

He gave her a stern look. “And to let you know that she will be joining myself and a werewolf on the hunt for a real killer.”

“And if it turns out to be one of your precious werewolves?” James asked angrily.

Phoenix looked sad. “Then one of my precious werewolves will pay the price. But not all of them.” He scowled, dots of colour spreading across his cheeks. “And never the young ones.”

James looked chastened. “We ran out of options, Phoenix.”

“If I had been here—”

“But you weren’t here,” James persisted. “Even now, we’re being hounded by complaints. The public have turned against the werewolves. Emergency services are overwhelmed with terrified calls. Any large dog is suspected of being a werewolf. Even people who know better are scared.
I’m
scared.” For the first time, James sounded sincere. “I’ve heard about Mac’s body. I don’t want to die like that.”

“We’ll find all of the people responsible for all of the recent deaths,” Phoenix said gently, and my heart warmed. “I think we’re done here for the night.”

The Senate members all rose from their seats, looking relieved that Phoenix had stopped lecturing them. Some of them mumbled embarrassed apologies to me as they trailed out of the room. I didn’t care. I was used to being treated by those in charge as though I were disposable, and I had a new mission.

The paragon followed Phoenix up the aisle toward me. He gave me a steady look but smiled at Phoenix. “Quite a collection of pets you’re building up there, my prince. Be careful none of them bite back.”

He left, his chin high in the air.

“Did he just call me your pet?” I asked. “I’m at least a sidekick.”

“He… disturbs me,” Phoenix said. “The paragons are not our friends. They’re not anyone’s friends.”

“People in power don’t have friends,” I remarked.

He looked down at me in surprise. “I thought we were friends.”

“Friends don’t suddenly leave the country for weeks without as much as a goodbye, Phoenix.”

He smiled. “You’re incredibly human sometimes.”

“Is that an insult or a compliment?” I asked. “You know what? I don’t want to know. Is Lucia back yet?”

“She’ll arrive tomorrow,” he said. “Val promised to pick her up.”

“Val and Peter are looking into the shifter murders,” I said.

He nodded. “Val said. Can you meet me at the first crime scene tomorrow at around noon?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Good.” He walked off without even a goodbye.
Fae
.

I headed home, walking without even thinking about it, until I came to an abrupt start and realised the cul-de-sac wasn’t where it should have been. Thinking of myself as an idiot, I retraced my steps and actually paid attention to where I was going. And yet, I still couldn’t find the cul-de-sac.

What the hell?
I gaped for a few moments before realising what had happened. That little brat had made me blind to my own home! I really hoped Carl or any of the others weren’t standing in their gardens, looking at me standing outside like an idiot simply unable to find the entrance.

“Fuck!” I kicked at gravel, and it skittered across the ground. Inspired, I found a large stone, picked it up, and threw it where I thought the cul-de-sac might be. If the rock went invisible, then I would know for sure.
Maybe.

The rock flew into the air, landed on the ground, rolled, then stilled.

“Damn it!” Feeling immensely stupid, I glanced all around me then raised my voice. “Carl? Carl!”

There was no answer. I might have been somewhere completely different. She might not have made me blind; she could have sent me on a wandering path whenever I tried to go home.

“That stupid little witch!” I muttered every insult I could think of under my breath as I called Phoenix.

“What’s wrong?” he asked when he answered. He was still on his way home.

I squeezed my eyes shut, embarrassed to even tell him my problem.

“Ava? Are you there?”

Unfortunately.
“I can’t find my bloody house, Phoenix.”

There was a pause, then the sound of choked laughter. “Are you… sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. You get that little witch out here before I kill her.”

“I’ll…” More muffled laughter. “I’ll go fetch her. Meet us at the courthouse.”

“Good. I can’t wait to get my hands on that little—”

“On second thoughts, I’ll meet you back at the courthouse after Ari has undone her little trick.”

When he hung up, I headed back to the courtroom and waited for him, fuming. It was cold, and the courthouse had been locked up, so I had to stand outside on the street, blowing warm air into my freezing hands. When Phoenix finally turned up, without Ari, he couldn’t contain his mirth. I knew there was a reason I hated witches.

“Get in,” he said. “I’ll drop you home. She’s promised not to play any more pranks on you.”

“Oh, why don’t I feel safe?” I said, feeling grouchy, as I got into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. “And it’s not funny.”

“It’s a little amusing,” he said. “We probably should have seen this coming.”

“I don’t know how Alanii hasn’t killed the little brat yet.” I folded my arms crossly. “That’s not acceptable behaviour, Phoenix. I
know
she did something to me before.”

“I will deal with her,” he promised.

“Emmett and Dita would never do anything like that.”

“Well, they’re not teenagers, are they?”

I grumbled the rest of the way home. When Phoenix pulled up outside my house, he hesitated long enough for me to invite him in.

“Want me to make you a coffee or something?”

He immediately agreed, making me think he was lonely in his house without the twins. Maybe he was ready to talk about what had happened between him and Lorcan.

As I was unlocking the front door, he ran back to his car to get his phone in case “somebody” called. I headed inside, took one look at my hallway, and screamed, nice and shrill.

Phoenix came running in. “What’s happ—
oh
. That’s… oh.”

I gazed in horror at a full-length painting of me hanging on the wall. Painting-me was seductively posed and dressed in skin-tight leather while holding an obscenely long sword in one hand. Waist-length red hair was flowing behind me. My midriff was bare, my lips were pouty, and I had
cleavage
, for heaven’s sake. The painting looked like the cover of a bloody novel.

I swallowed hard then managed to squeak, “What the hell is this?”

“You haven’t seen this?”

I whirled around to glare at him. “Do I look like somebody who wasn’t surprised by this?”

He held up his hands as Carl walked in and started laughing. He gave a low whistle, and I punched him in the arm.

“It was
my
turn!”

“Oh, no.” He nodded approvingly at the picture. “It was so my turn.”

“What’s going on again?” Phoenix asked.

“We buy each other stupid gifts,” I said. “But not… this monstrosity. I’m going to burn it right now.”

Carl wrapped his arms around me and held me still. “But it’s so beautiful.”

I elbowed him and broke free. “You’re
insane
.”

“You’re not burning it. Commissioning this cost me a fortune.”

“Thanks for proving my point!”

“It was a joke,” he said soothingly. “Come on. It’s pretty funny. I knew I should have set up a video camera.”

I thumped his arm. “Carl!”

“Oh, chill out. Where’s your sense of humour?”

Hands on my hips, I advanced on him. He had the sense to back away.

“Let me see,” I said. “The shifters want me dead, the paragon wants me dead, and somebody’s trying to frame
everyone
. The Senate are against us, the vampire queen chose the other side, an annoying teenage witch hid my home from me, Peter
kissed
me out of the blue, and I—”

Carl cleared his throat and nodded at Phoenix.

Shit.
I had forgotten he was there. That deflated my temper. I screwed up my mouth, took a breath, then turned to Phoenix with an embarrassed smile. “Maybe another time for that coffee?”

His lips twitched. “Of course.” He headed to the door then hesitated. “Don’t burn the painting.”

I wished I had something to throw at him. I heard him laughing as he shut the front door behind him.

“I’ll take the painting away,” Carl said. “Now let me feed you chocolate before you kill me.”

I gave him a small smile before following him into the kitchen.

“So, Peter finally went for it then?” He put on the kettle.

I took cups out of the press. “Oh, yeah.”

“And what did you do?”

“Kinda let him.”

“Gonna let him again?”

I bit my lip. Was I? “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“But do you want to?”

“I’m not made of stone, Carl. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, we know. You’ve been getting progressively grumpier as the months go on,” he teased.

“Shut up, or I’ll start thinking about that painting again.”

He laughed and finished making the tea before raiding the presses for chocolate. He found more than my fair share, but his kitchen likely resembled a sweet shop, too, no matter how much he liked to deny it.