Read Dark Lure: Immortal Brotherhood (Edge Book 2) Page 20


  “Right, but I’m still handling a family issue, so maybe you and I can meet in the Quarter in a few days.”

  “Whose Firebird is that?” Dagen said before River had a chance to respond.

  “It’s not for sale.”

  Dagen’s eyes fell to Reveca, the knowing smirk King was known to have full on his lips. “You’re familiar to me.”

  “I assure you, we have never met.”

  “Not what I mean.” His eyes dipped down Reveca then up again. “Why do I sense King on you. Why can’t we move past this barrier?”

  For an instant Reveca was speechless. This was a first, and she was sure it was because this Dagen boy not only had raw power coming off him, but because he reminded her so much of King that it was ridiculous.

  “She’s the Queen of the Edge. Death, that’s where he is,” River offered. “The barrier is Jamison. You know it as well as I do. He said this crowd was too wild for me. Come on, babe, let’s go,” River said putting her arm around his waist.

  “Right,” Dagen said as his stare clearly stated he knew all of what she said was bullshit. “I guess we’ll see you next time, Reveca.”

  Then, with River in his arms, they vanished from sight.

  Reveca closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. That was too close.

  Until she figured out exactly what King was up to before he landed with Crass, why he was hiding from people that knew him, she was going to protect him with everything she had, even if it meant getting Jamison, Saige, and the whole damn coven to combine every ounce of power to do so.

  No one under her care would ever feel the brush of a threat. That was a silent vow she made to each of them, one she aimed to keep no matter what.

  Episode Eight

  Chapter One

  Reveca slammed her hand down on the table before Zale. “You’re a greedy, arrogant, stupid, fuck. Quit with the bullshit and tell me what you know.”

  As soon as Reveca had calmed herself down from coming face to face with an Escort for the first time, well, the second apparently, she told Talon to get Thames and Judge and meet her in church.

  She wanted to check on King, make sure he knew she didn’t invite them here, at least not Dagen. She’d followed the pull of his energy, the hum of it, until she realized to reach him she’d need a boat and quite frankly she didn’t have time for that. He’d manifested himself on the other side of the river, still on the property of the Boneyard, but yeah. She couldn’t do that ‘zap around I’m all powerful’ thing he could do.

  It was still blowing her mind to sense the amount of power Dagen had and know that King was his leader. In this supernatural world, to lead you have to have more power than another, which meant her Kenson had become a king in his own right. He’d tasted and lived with a power that Reveca couldn’t even dare to imagine.

  Hell, she was impressed with what he could still do, but she knew it surely felt like the death it was, maybe even a disgrace, to him to be at the level of power he was at currently.

  She felt his stare on her through the dense brush, but she couldn’t see him. He didn’t want to be found just then, and that was fine. He was becoming a permanent fixture on her ‘do later’ list. She had an uninvited guest that she wanted gone as soon as possible.

  When she made her way into church, she saw Jamison and Zale at the table, Talon at the head, Thames and Judge at the other end silently watching.

  Everyone hated Zale, that was undeniable, but at times Reveca was sure that Judge hated him more than the others, and for good reason. Zale had crossed one too many personal lines when it came to the likes of Judge, but that was another story in and of itself. Right now, Reveca was grateful that Judge was resolved enough to sit in this room and do his part, use his gifts to help his Club through this hell.

  Zale looked like someone beat the shit out of him but nothing was broken in the room—Talon and Judge had no marks of a fight on them, so who clobbered him and why was unknown to her.

  For the last few hours they had been arguing this hell out. The girl that had just died, that had enemies in common with Reveca, had added more to what the Pentacle Sons already knew, had fortified it.

  The Sons along with Reveca were just fine in their own world, fighting with Blackwater. There was just enough strife to allow her boys a place to aim their natural aggression. They were good with Rouge hunts, too. Along with several other chapters, they were controlling the outbreak. A few had even pulled the Rouges into their fold.

  All the while, Zale and his arrogance were churning the pot and it blew up in his face, in everyone’s faces.

  Reveca glanced to Judge and Thames and they vaguely shook their head no. They couldn’t see shit. Zale was a well aged immortal with layers and layers in his mind.

  “As if your pups are strong enough to see into my mind,” Zale said with sneer.

  Judge rose to his feet in the blink of an eye, aimed his gun right at Zale, and grinned coldly, prepared to fire, primed to fire over and over as Zale’s all powerful immortal body struggled to heal.

  The only thing that stopped Judge was the silent lift of Talon’s chin. The stare he gave Judge always seemed to calm him down when the others couldn’t reach him.

  Reveca put herself between Judge’s weapon and Zale then slapped Zale. “I don’t know who kicked your ass before, but I promise you they only stopped out of respect for me and this war—I will unleash them on you.”

  Zale leveled his ominous gaze on Jamison as Judge settled back into his seat, his weapon still in hand aimed squarely at Zale.

  Reveca sneered. “You think he’s going to protect you? You should be crystal fucking clear on the notion that I’m the black sheep. I don’t listen to anyone.”

  “Name him,” Jamison said.

  “He’s been destroyed. It doesn’t matter,” Zale said in a stalled tone. He kept looking between Talon and Jamison as if the topic on the table was of no matter. Reveca had no clue what the looks were about but she was done with the distraction.

  “Was it you?” she said, looking at Talon. “Did you kick his ass? If I let you finish, will the three of you focus?”

  Talon was leaning to the side in his chair which mimicked a throne with the iron wings of a crow behind it. His elbow was rested on the arm of it, his hand to his chin. Slowly his fingers were brushing a five o’clock shadow that was looking more like a beard with each day that passed. His gaze lifted to her but no expression came, no attempt to move out of his relaxed stance.

  Talon hadn’t said a word since they’d come into this room but she knew from his stoic gaze he had questions for her. He always did when Jamison was near. Talon had little trust for the coven Reveca came from, if any. Reveca knew this meeting was going to be hell for them, but it had to be done.

  “King,” Talon said in a low rasp.

  Reveca’s brow lifted.

  “We had a good chat, he missed me,” Zale said.

  Reveca slowly closed her eyes as fury waved over her. In the beginning King had kicked Zale’s ass daily. It was because Zale would provoke him, taunt his power, threaten to tell the others that not only was King teaching Reveca magic that was forbidden, but clearly seducing her as well.

  The idea that King, Zale, and Talon were all face-to-face was not a pleasant one. She had to wonder what part of her Boneyard was now destroyed from the ass kicking that went down. She didn’t have time for this shit. This drama was dated and had no purpose—absolutely zero to do with what was before them all today.

  She opened her eyes then waved her hand, throwing a wall of energy up that divided the room, that shielded Thames and Judge from the words she was about use as daggers. Once she knew it was in place, she snapped her glare around the table.

  “What the fuck did the three of you do? Whip your dicks out and have some kind of macho war of claim? I’m not fucking property.”

  Talon made no move. Zale let a sneer come to his face.

  Reveca held Talon’s unforgiving stare as her rant
went on. “This bastard spelled me to lust,” she said as she pointed to Zale. “Empty lust.” She moved her glare to Jamison across the table. “And the coven, they ensured that nothing was ever consummated between me and King. They severed us indefinitely long ago.” She met Talon’s gaze once more. “I stand at your side, not before you or behind you, as I have for ages. Does that satisfy everyone’s ego in the room? Should I go get King? Should he tell you that he let go long ago, laid the fuck down and died without a fight, and today he not only welcomes destruction but deems it necessary?”

  Reveca could feel rage ripple off of Talon, a defensive anger, and she had no idea why. Their relationship was dynamic to say the least and this threat was not the first they’d faced, and surely would not be last. They were both territorial but their loyalty to their Club, the family they had made, was a tie that nothing could destroy. That notion had been thoroughly tested in the past.

  “Spelled you,” Zale said with lazy chuckle. “The desire had to be present for an effect. You’re not innocent, darling. Far from it if I recall properly.”

  “You son of a bitch. It was the magic you were using. The desire for you came because of the power you were taming.”

  “And whose power was I mimicking?” Zale said with lift to his brow and a sneer on his lips. “I learn best from observation. I surely watched enough of you and your Kenson.”

  Reveca felt her insides quiver when she realized he was right, that back then Zale was whimsical with his power. Flowers—he’d bring them back to life. Watching him took her back to when she was a naïve girl, when her intent to return life was pure. Opening that part of herself up again had taken the complications out of returning souls. Her emotions were in check, her doubt in her power was shelved, and it became simplistic, so simplistic that souls, fallen warriors, became her flowers—what she brought back to life daily, sometimes hourly.

  Zale glanced to the wall of energy that was holding in the center of the room. “Mighty powerful these days, darling. You’re not even thinking through the spells you must say for your actions. You breathe and it occurs…” He glanced to Talon then Jamison. “One might think you have entangled your energy with a powerful source. That is dangerous, dear.”

  “Fuck off. You’re trying to piss Talon off, distract us.” She leaned down to look dead into Zale’s eyes. “You have unleashed the wrath of the Sons upon you. Nothing short of the end of time would distract us from the blood of victory we crave.”

  “End of time,” Zale repeated as his stare searched hers.

  “That’s enough,” Jamison said finally. “Name him. Where did it begin?”

  “All I know is Black.”

  Reveca dropped the wall of energy before Thames and Judge, inviting them back into the meeting that had taken a drastic, pointless wrong turn as far as Reveca was concerned.

  “A mortal,” Jamison said with a cold glare across the table.

  “And?” Zale spat.

  “And that is nothing less than criminal,” Jamison replied just as sharply but in the same calm tone.

  It was forbidden to barter or trade magic with mortals. And for good reason. They grasped greed too easily. The respect for the craft was not instilled within them. Instead of using it to enhance their souls, protect themselves or others, they often used it to gain material items, to satisfy juvenile tiffs. Selfish, all me. That was the attitude of most and that attitude attracted the attention of the darkest of powers—evil.

  “I’m an outcast of the coven therefore laws do not chain me,” Zale said with sigh. “I do not have the energy or patience to play on the world stage you do,” he said, staring at Jamison. “Playing house is not my cup of tea.” He glanced to Talon. “And creating a coalition that indulges in criminal activity for their funding is yet another complication I didn’t want or need. I found an investor, simple as that.”

  “You whored out your power,” Reveca said with a snap to her tone.

  “No. I utilized damage control.”

  “You call this damage control?” Reveca shot back.

  “I destroyed the Rouge that began it.”

  “You destroyed the Rouge then partnered with the mortal that was using him in the first place to create this drug.”

  “A wealthy dying man wanted to be turned.”

  “You didn’t turn him. You helped him make a drug that takes the blood of immortals,” Reveca argued.

  “And heals.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Talon said finally. “You didn’t turn him because if you did your bank account would lose its constant funding. Instead, you tried to play him, told him that drug would make him immortal over time, as long as he paid you, of course. I know exactly what’s in the drug. It doesn’t heal shit. It takes their pain away and amplifies their strength.”

  “And is allowing them to present actions and tendencies of immortals,” Reveca added.

  “Did you really think this man, one of his wealth, was not going to investigate what was in that drug, or even the lore behind our existence?” Jamison supplied. “How long did you think it would take him to come across someone like Newberry?” Jamison asked. “Someone who knew enough to make this drug as well. You flat out gave him the recipe with one dose. Greed. The reason the law is in place has us here now. A drug on the streets that can give mortals the illusion of immortal gifts, a power they can’t handle because it was given and not earned.”

  Once Reveca broke down the girl that was killed the night before, she recognized a Rouge of Zale’s in her life. He was one of the ones that had figured out how to pass his gifts on. He, too, was becoming a creator of immortals. The exact method he was using was not clear to anyone just yet, though. But the point was he knew how. He may have had more failures than successes, but it only took one victory to give any fool the ambition to try again.

  This Rouge was one that Zale kept close to him at one time. They had parted ways but it was clear he had found mortals who were willing to pay top dollar for everlasting life and he’d gone to Zale with that proposition.

  From that point, Zale partnered with the investor and the Rouge found buyers. If anyone knows of souls that are willing to tempt darkness, it’s dime store witches that are approached daily for protection or revenge.

  The girl last night was one of those. She and the Rouge both worked directly for this Mr. Black, sold his product, helped him find his supplies. But apparently there was turbulence in this cesspool of greed. Black had found better witches, better knowledge and connections, and was severing all ties that were previously attached to Zale. And as he did so, he was framing Reveca for the clean out.

  It was no mystery as to why. If he had Reveca and her Club distracted enough, entangled deep enough in the woes of the modern world, there would be no one to stop him from making this drug readily available.

  “Listen to me,” Zale said. “My Rouge came to me and said that he knew someone that would pay for immortality. I met him. We commenced our deal. The next thing I know this drug is everywhere; my home and here. I destroyed the Rouge when he would not tell me where Black was, who was selling this. In his remains, in the essence, I saw there were no answers. Beyond what I have said already. It was a high-end drug, one that only the wealthy knew of. Now it’s on the streets—still expensive, but it’s there. Black is taking down all connections to those that started him and building new little minions to make and sell his poison.”

  “You destroyed the Rogue,” Reveca repeated. “Instead of telling anyone of the hell you started, you broke him down and now he’s in the hands of the Unclaimed and all we have is your word that he knew nothing, that you know nothing. You’re covering your ass.”

  “Obviously poorly if I’m sitting here and you know exactly what occurred.”

  Reveca doubted that. There was more; there was always more with Zale. He was a master at manipulation, so much so that when he was being honest it was next to impossible to believe him.

  “Do you have anything of his? He was at
your home, surely you do,” Jamison asked.

  “Do you think that I haven’t tried to find this bastard on my own? He has my fucking sister. There is no trace of him for any one of us to summon him.”

  “He’s here,” Jamison said. “The book is.”

  “Yeah, well, good luck with that. He’s a fucking ghost. I’ve got Rouges hunting him non-stop.” He glanced around the room. “You might want to double what you’re paying your lawmen buddies to cover your ass because I assure you if Black intends to take you down in the mortal world, he will not stop until he does.” He grinned. “Then all of you, without your mortal stage, will live in my world and then you will see that whoring out magic is the only way to keep a roof over your head.”

  Reveca never glanced to Talon or her boys, never let on to the fact they already knew of the witness that was trying to frame the Club, poorly. They knew of the evidence and that it was created because someone, somewhere shifted into Reveca’s image.

  They were going to deal with that, and they’d deal with whatever else came up before they made their play, shut all the bullshit down, and made it to where Black would have their focused attention.

  “Are we done?” Zale asked.

  “Get the hell out of my face,” Reveca said as her eyes filled with disgust. And he did. He simply vanished before them all.

  Jamison stood. “I assume you have what you need to attempt to locate Evanthe.”

  “I do,” Reveca said, leaving it at that, not daring to go near the whole Escort deal or the fact that River was there hours before.

  “If we find her she’ll know where this Mr. Black is. Until such time, damage control is all we can do.”

  “Right,” Reveca said with a sneer.

  Jamison glanced over her then Talon, nodded to the boys then made his way out.

  “We’re taking this witness down today,” Reveca said to Thames and Judge.

  “Daylight?” Thames asked.

  “Has to be. Tonight I retrieve Cashton. I want it over with.”