“Unless your powers were waning and your borders were weak. She is an excellent strategist and a very patient sort.”
For a moment, no one in the room spoke as Sir Rodney stared at his top advisor. Sasha and Hunter shared a discreet look.
“This is why I caution you to employ temperance until we learn more, milord,” his eldest advisor pressed on, his monotone voice slowly stating the facts. “There are those who would dare not challenge you while strong, but if there is any indication that there was an erosion of your power, you would have to fight off enemies as though a swarm of locusts.”
The other advisors nodded.
Now Sasha really understood the dilemma marrow-deep. Both wolves caught each other’s meaningful glances within their peripheral vision, both fully cognizant of what was at stake for Sir Rodney. The tension in the room was palpable as Sasha’s previous rage dissipated.
Sir Rodney slowly returned to the table to lean against it with both hands. He closed his eyes and allowed his head to drop forward in frustration.
“Milord,” a third and very shy advisor murmured, speaking so softly that Sir Rodney lifted his head just to hear him. “The situation, as you have guessed, is worsening.”
Sir Rodney didn’t respond to his advisor, but stared at Sasha and Hunter. “Now do you understand why we could not send Thompson on an errand to directly investigate this Phoenix death? It wasn’t a matter of trust, but that of national security. Had we done so, it would have appeared odd… that the Fae would be delving into Mythic Parliament affairs. Once that became gossip… word of our involvement would surely travel. That could tip off our unknown enemies that something is amiss in our own yard. We must preserve the appearance of strength at all costs.”
“Aye,” a fourth advisor confirmed and then looked at the fifth advisor to his left.
Clearing his throat, the fifth advisor glanced at the others before he addressed the king, and then looked at Sasha and Hunter. “That is why we needed a friend outside of the Fae to repay a favor once given with a favor now needed and duly earned.”
“Those who do not lie, whose silver auras speak of their sterling reputation for loyalty and honor… as is the way of the wolf,” the fifth advisor said quietly. “We must have your word as your bond that you never speak of our waning powers beyond yourselves.”
“My word given,” Hunter said, lifting his chin.
“And mine,” Sasha said.
The fifth advisor looked around at the group and the other advisors nodded, clearly having discussed this amongst themselves already.
“We should be sure that all our allies are at the Midsummer Night’s Ball three nights hence… They must be in New Orleans during this time when the moon is full,” his eldest advisor said, beginning to slowly stroll past each of the younger Gnomes as he spoke. “If there is foul play, our effectiveness could be strained. It would be prudent to have strong battalions of our friends at the ready… those who owe us, and who also know that once you owe the Fae, to renege is tantamount to treason.”
Sir Rodney straightened, but his gaze was open as it went toward Sasha and Hunter. “I would never want to put any of the wolf packs at risk…”
“Indeed… but they are also excellent warriors unknown to your ex-wife and no stranger to battles with the undead. Vampires walk a wary path around them, sire, and it would not seem odd that they would be looking into matters that could potentially effect their packs or humans,” his eldest advisor said calmly, going to the king to stand before him. His ancient gaze held the king’s. “This happened in a Fae bar that humans frequent. That would give them both cover and cause.”
“They cannot be harmed or placed in harm’s way,” Sir Rodney said in a rush, dragging his fingers through his hair as he now specifically stared at Sasha.
Hunter nodded with appreciation. “You had our backs, now we have yours. I am sure my brother Shogun will feel the same way.”
“We stand with you at the ready, Sir Rodney,” Sasha said. “Count on that.” But as she held Sir Rodney’s gaze, wolf instinct kicked in. “You never answered my question. What was the blood?”
“You also never fully disclosed your investigator’s lead,” Hunter said in a casual tone, but his expression was anything but that.
“Follow me,” Sir Rodney said, ignoring his advisors’ startled eyes.
“Milord,” his eldest advisor said after a moment, stepping before Sir Rodney and withdrawing his wand. “I beg you to caution. Just as your comment to go to war with Vampires came out of passion… might this also be-”
“Do not forget your place, Bardis. We are old friends yet there are still parameters.”
“And there is dark magick afoot… so serious that at times it has held His Majesty’s judgment in question,” Bardis said in a tight murmur meant only for Sir Rodney’s ears.
“Not this time. If we are to ask for our allies’ assistance, then we must trust them. That is common sense, old friend.”
Although the senior advisor clearly didn’t like it, he put his wand away and stood aside. Sasha and Hunter waited until Sir Rodney motioned for them to follow him, and he led the way through a door on the far side of the room that gave way to spiral stone stairs so narrow that one had to touch the wall to keep from feeling vertigo.
The moment they were at the bottom, Hunter glanced at Sasha and nodded. “It is the scent.”
“Quite so,” Sir Rodney said, still walking. He stopped at a huge wooden locked door.
To Sasha’s surprise, the advisor named Bardis and the others who’d been in the war room opened the door for their king. Again, all she could do was glance at Hunter; Fae magick was deep.
But the body draped with a sheet on the granite slab before them nearly made her gasp out loud. The scent was cloying. And it was definitely the same blood trace they’d picked up in Ethan’s wine cellar.
“Who is it?” Sasha asked as they neared the table and Sir Rodney flung off the sheet.
“Ethan’s bartender, Mike,” Sir Rodney said.
“The one who supposedly went home early?” Hunter said with sarcasm lacing his tone.
“Well, scratch his name off the whodunnit list,” Sasha said with a scowl.
“This was the lead,” Bardis said, ignoring the tension, and pointed at the lacerations on the nude man’s chest. “His heart is gone, torn from the anchors so quickly it must have still been beating in the murderer’s hand. There is only one entity we know of that can move that swiftly in a surgical strike.”
Sasha and Hunter stepped closer. She gazed down into the stunned expression. The poor man’s mouth was open in a frozen scream, his eyes wide and glassy. Too bad the dead couldn’t talk. She traced the gashes left just outside the gaping hole in his chest and then looked at Hunter.
“Could have been a Vamp heart snatch. Usually a wolf attack isn’t quite so clean-isn’t directed at one organ.”
“Wolves generally go for the throat or the gut, leaving viscera everywhere.” Hunter leaned into the body and sniffed. “But there is most assuredly a trace of Were here as well.” Hunter stood and stared at Sir Rodney. “And you didn’t think this might have been useful information?”
Sasha folded her arms over her chest. “So, you guys found him and Desidera, removed his body and glamoured the cellar so we wouldn’t see any trace of this body hitting the dirt, and then cleaned up the blood? Why?”
“We had to know beyond a shadow of a doubt,” Sir Rodney said, lifting his chin, “that if it was a wolf, you would still stand with us.”
“Now I really am offended, even if I understand your twisted logic,” Sasha said and then walked away.
CHAPTER 5
Shogun doubled over, clutching his stomach, the moment he exited the plane.
“Sir, are you all right?” a member of the flight crew asked as he slowly straightened.
