After the horrific dinner and visit to Fate, Stephanie was no closer to understanding the game Wynn played than before. He terrified her one second and the next, did her a favor. She had nightmares about what he had in store for her on any given day. Fate seemed to think there was more going on, something bad coming. Yet if she failed or refused to play Wynn’s game, she jeopardized everything.
She’d begun to think there was only one way to determine what Wynn’s plan was, if she could convince him to open the portals to her.
With a deep breath, she stepped from the place-between-places into her chamber after her day with Fate.
Trayern snatched her by the jaw before her second foot hit the ground. The furious demon shoved her into a wall, his eyes blazing. His fangs and fingernails had lengthened, and he tilted her head at an angle that disabled her ability to move.
Stephanie didn’t resist him and held her breath, not about to challenge the bristling demon half a head taller than she was and twice as wide. Accustomed to his constant presence, she forgot the menace Trayern could become.
“Careful, demon,” Mithra said from behind him.
“Back the fuck up, angel!”
Stephanie grimaced as Trayern’s sharp nails dug into her cheeks.
“If you ever, ever do that again, Immortal, no oath I’ve taken to anyone will come between me and your fucking neck!” Trayern snarled. “Do you fucking understand?”
“Yes,” she whispered. I’d do it again in a heartbeat! This sentiment she kept to herself. After her night with her mate, not even Trayern could ruin the peace inside her.
Trayern didn’t appear convinced. She waited, not about to meet his gaze or attempt to move.
The demon released her and stepped back. “Get dressed. Wynn sent a guard for you.”
Stephanie sighed and waited for him to put more distance between them before she shifted away from the wall.
“Shouldn’t you help out in that kind of situation?” she asked Mithra.
“If I thought he would kill you, I would,” Mithra reassured her.
She pointed to the blood left over from Trayern’s grip on her jaw.
“He wasn’t going to kill you.”
“Maiming me is perfectly fine?”
Trayern glanced towards her, pausing in his pacing.
Recalling his initial warning, about how she didn’t need legs to perform her duty, Stephanie hurried away and changed. Trayern was pissed enough to do some damage, if she didn’t comply with his order. She went to the door and reached for the knob.
A knife thunked into the wooden door in front of her. She released a breath.
“I get it!” she said, annoyed. “Don’t sneak off anymore.” She tugged at the knife with the black blade unsuccessfully.
Trayern gripped the back of her neck with one hand. With the other, he pulled the knife free effortlessly. “Don’t fuck with me, half-breed. One day, this protection duty will be over, and if you think I won’t track you down …”
“Okay!” she exclaimed. “Holy shit. I’m sorry I worried you both by disappearing.”
Trayern released her and wrenched the door open. He pushed her into the hallway then followed.
Demons had attitude problems. She’d figured this one out early on, but she hadn’t realized the extent of their issues until Trayern.
Stephanie glanced at the Immortal guard awaiting her. Why had Wynn sent an escort to take her to the petitioner hall? Didn’t he trust her to find her way there, as she did every single day?
Agitated, Stephanie nonetheless played along. The guard led her to the first floor. Expecting them to stop in front of the petitioner hall, she became suspicious when they continued past it.
She peered in. Kiki, clearly unhappy, tapped his fingers as he listened to the man in front of him. She smiled, recalling how much he hated the duty.
They walked on and stopped two chambers down, to a hall as large as the petitioner hall, but far less crowded. It had a similar set up, with a table at the far end, and a line of people. The large frame of Rhyn, who appeared less interested in being present than she was, stood to the side of the table.
This line was much shorter – about six people – and other Immortals were seated where they could witness what was happening. The air in the chamber was charged, apprehensive.
At first look, Stephanie couldn’t determine the purpose of the gathering.
Wynn stood in front of the table. He motioned her forward when she entered. She went to stand in front of her father. Trayern hovered behind her.
“What is this?” she questioned for Wynn’s ears only.
“To lead, you need to learn the various duties we are called upon to execute from time to time,” he replied. His voice carried a terse note, and his gaze was harder than usual. “You have an ability similar to mine.”
“I’m not like you,” she said.
“If you want me to step aside, which I know you do, then you’ll learn what I tell you, when I tell you. The only way things will change is if you are in charge.” His tone was icy.
God, she hated him sometimes! Wynn always, always made too much sense. Murder aside, it was his most frustrating trait.
Stephanie swallowed her pride. “I do want to lead,” she said honestly. “I’m trying, Wynn.”
“I know you are.”
They stared at one another for a long moment. Stephanie sighed and lowered her gaze in a sign of resignation.
“This is where we judge those who have committed crimes within the society,” he said.
“This is a court?”
“Yes.”
She glanced around. “Without a jury?”
“You will become judge, jury and issue sentences.”
Stephanie frowned. “How is that fair?”
“Because, daughter, when you can read the secrets in someone’s mind, you don’t need a burden of proof or attorneys to determine their guilt or innocent.”
He has a point, she thought.
“Have a seat.” He motioned to the chairs behind the table. She sat beside him, and Trayern stood at the rear entrance to the chamber.
She was both curious and wary of the duty. She sensed she’d be better at running a court than Wynn or her brothers, who were too hard and apathetic to care about what happened to a single life.
“Name and crime accused of committing,” Wynn commanded of the first man in line.
The Immortal gave his name, eyes flickering to Stephanie and back to Wynn. Equal parts fearful of what Wynn would decide and curious about the procedure, she sat and waited to see what happened.
“Witnesses,” Wynn said, voice loud and clear.
A man and woman stepped forward.
Wynn motioned for them to speak.
My husband can’t know about the affair, the woman thought.
Stephanie’s eyebrows went up. Within seconds, she was leaning forward in interest, intrigued about what her gift could tell her. She read the fears of others and was surprised when more than one fear began to appear in the minds of those in front of her.
Wynn was too much of a politician to display what he thought.
Stephanie focused hard as each of the three spoke. She’d been too weirded out by the gift to use it purposely. But here, as with the soiree, where the truth determined the course of someone’s life, she found herself open to the idea.
The three stepped back, awaiting Wynn’s judgment. He turned to her.
“What did you determine?” he asked.
“The woman is afraid of her husband finding out about the affair. Her husband wasn’t present to witness the theft but is claiming he was. The thief doesn’t want the husband to find out he’s in love with the woman,” she said. “I can’t put the picture together about the theft, though. I feel like there’s a lot missing.”
“You’ll find the answers in their minds, if you know how to look beyond conscious thought to the secrets tucked deep in their subconscious and unconscious,” Wynn replied. “Fears operate on a different level than conscious thought. Kris reads minds but can’t read fears, unless someone is thinking about them at the time.”
“You can do both, can’t you?” she asked.
“Not exactly,” Wynn said but didn’t expand on his answer. “The woman is lying, because the item she claims was stolen she actually sold to pay off a debt. Her husband knows nothing about the debt, but he believes his wife, hence the reason he appears to be telling the truth. What the thief stole last year: a shirt.”
Stephanie’s brow furrowed. “He stole a shirt? Why?”
“He was sleeping with the wife and took one of her husband’s shirts when he came home too early.” Wynn smiled.
“I didn’t get much at all,” she said, disappointed. “How do you sentence a man who is indeed a thief but not for the crime committed?”
“In this circumstance, you address only the crime brought to you. In others, you may consider past crimes.”
“How do you know when to consider past crimes and when not to?”
“You’ll discover the answer by the end of today.”
Stephanie sat back, ruminating over all she’d learned by the simple interaction.
Wynn motioned the accused forward. “Innocent,” he pronounced. The scribe at the end of the table tapped the judgment into the tablet he held.
The alleged thief appeared relieved, the woman angry, and her husband confused.
“Next,” Wynn said.
Stephanie didn’t know what to think of the abrupt dismissal either. No one was given the chance to appeal or protest. Her attention shifted instantly to the next alleged criminal who stepped forward.
After hearing their stories, Wynn turned to her again.
“He’s guilty,” she murmured.
“He is.”
“What do you do now?”
“It’s up to you to determine.”
“There’s no guidelines or rules or …” she asked, surprised.
“No. You decide.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.”
“The punishment should fit the crime. To determine that, you must remove yourself from emotion or bias. You are the only person who can choose how a wrong is righted. If you are too harsh, you invoke the wrath of your people. If you are too lenient, your people will think you weak. You will be taken advantage of,” he said. “Your people are always watching.”
She nibbled on her lower lip. It was difficult enough passing judgment on anyone. Contending with the impact of her decisions on the society was an even harder concept for her to grapple with.
“What would you do?” she asked.
“When possible, the accused makes amends. For example, if found guilty he would replace what was stolen, or if not possible, repay the value of the item.”
“Pretty sure this guy doesn’t have the money to repay anything if he’s stealing it,” she mused.
“Then he becomes the personal property of the people he stole from, until he works off the debt.”
“Slavery?”
“More like indentured servitude. He can’t be hurt or abused, but he must repay his debt somehow. He’ll be sentenced to work for the family.”
“Makes sense,” she said. The Immortals did things very differently than she was accustomed to. This was their world, and she had to adapt. Perhaps, when she was in charge, she could improve their court system. “To pay off the debt, he’d probably have to serve two months. I think Kiki said that’s the amount Immortals receive for their welfare checks.”
“Agreed,” Wynn replied. “Dividends, not welfare checks. They all receive a proportional number of shares and use the dividends on those shares as an income.”
She pursed her lips.
He issued the judgment and dismissed the case.
Wynn heard out the next four cases. Reluctantly, she was forced to admit he was thoughtful and fair. Stephanie hated admiring him for how fast his mind worked or the fact he wasn’t sentencing everyone to death. He was kinder to his people than he was to his family, which infuriated her to no end.
His methods were generally terrible, but he was making an effort to show her the ins and outs of what it meant to lead, and she needed the lessons. It was difficult to set aside her feelings for him but easy to determine guilt and innocence when able to rely on her ability. It would take her some time to understand what sentences were suitable for the crime committed. Wynn wasn’t lenient by any means, but he had given the guilty parties a choice more than once about how they wanted to serve their time. There was flexibility in the process and, to her surprise, some compassion or perhaps, fairness, for she didn’t think Wynn was capable of true empathy.
“Your turn,” he said when it was time to hear the final case.
Stephanie gripped her hands in her lap. “I can do this.” She released a breath.
“There’s no better way to learn.”
She nodded. Thus far, the cases had been simple: mostly theft, one case of assault between two neighbors arguing over a property line, and one of public indecency. She’d agreed with Wynn’s handling of every one of them and felt confident about hearing another theft case.
The final man stepped forward. No witnesses were present, though one of the guards was.
Confused, Stephanie scanned the people, waiting for someone to step forward.
“He was investigated by the Immortal guards,” Wynn explained. “You’ll have to listen harder to determine his guilt.”
Fourteen. It was the fear of the man in front of her.
She frowned. No additional information reached her mind. How did a simple number qualify as a fear?
“Read the charges,” Wynn directed the guard.
The guard lifted his tablet. “Child abuse, assault and battery, attempted murder, kidnapping. Three charges for each crime.”
Stephanie did her best not to give away her surprise. “Tell me what happened in your own words,” she directed the accused, as Wynn had the others.
He spoke, denying all the charges, and claiming his intentions had been misunderstood by people who wanted to punish him. As he talked, she pried the deeply held fear from his mind.
He didn’t want the court to know there were fourteen children, not just the three he was accused of hurting.
Stephanie sat back when he was finished, struggling not to show her shock.
Wynn motioned the accused to step back and waited for her to address him.
“What the fuck?” she whispered.
“This is the hard part,” Wynn said. “When you know he’s guilty, and you know he’s committed heinous crimes, many of which have not been reported.”
“He’s into child porn! What the fuck?” she repeated, horrified. “How … holy fuck!”
“What do you do with someone who threatens your society and those in it? Who targets the most vulnerable?” Wynn mused, far too measured for her to believe anything other than he’d set her up to take the worst case as a lesson. “In this circumstance, you must consider past crimes, because they’re of a nature that threatens the vulnerable and indicate a pattern that cannot be dismissed. There is no rehabilitation for a person like this.”
Stephanie stared at the accused, feeling sick to her stomach. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she said, stricken.
“Can do what?” Wynn asked.
“You want me to choose if he lives or dies. That’s what this whole fucking thing is about.”
“You choose what you feel is right.”
Her gaze went to Wynn, who was watching her, inscrutable.
“If you want to teach me a lesson, I get it,” she said, anger flickering within her. “There are people who want to hurt others, people who want to hurt us. Sometimes, people must die, because we can’t save everyone.”
“This isn’t a lesson,” Wynn stated. “This is reality. You want to know why I do what I do, why I am the way I am, then you have to face the reality of what I face daily. There are no training wheels around here, Stephanie. The lives of those in our society depend upon your decisions and sometimes, your decisions alone.”
“Wynn …”
“You decide.”
Stephanie swallowed hard. There was no justice for the children the Immortal had hurt, and they were likely never to recover from what he’d done to them.
But how was one person allowed to condemn anyone to death, no matter how bad the crimes were?
She struggled with herself. Wynn had intentionally placed her in a position where killing someone not only felt justified but warranted. He wasn’t just making a point, he was showing her a perspective she never, ever wanted to acknowledge: his, in which protecting the greater good sometimes meant committing barbaric acts.
He was giving her the opportunity to commit evil to protect the greater good.
“I can’t,” she whispered hoarsely. Stephanie gazed at him, praying he let her off the hook.
For a long moment, he studied her in silence.
“Do it,” Wynn ordered quietly. “Or I’ll let him go free.”
Never, she thought. A man like the one standing in front of her didn’t belong on the streets. Stephanie drew a breath. After a moment of thought, she decided.
“Guilty,” she said. “But you have a choice of sentence. Prison or death.” She almost choked on the last word.
The man frowned. “Prison? For all eternity?”
“Yes.” This came out firm, because no part of her would allow this man to see daylight again.
“Death,” he replied.
Her jaw clenched, and her stomach turned over.
“Okay,” she said.
Rhyn stepped forward to take the man’s arm.
The two left the chamber.
“Dismissed,” Wynn said in the tense quiet.
Stephanie was the first person on her feet. She fled through the back entrance leading to the depths of the castle and stopped in the hallway, out of everyone’s sight. She leaned against the cool wall, unable to make sense of her thoughts. Trayern hovered nearby.
“What happens to him now?” she asked in a tight voice as Wynn joined her.
“Do you really want to know?” he returned.
“No. But I need to.”
“Rhyn is the enforcer. He ensures a quick death for the guilty and that the depraved soul makes it to Death and not the Dark One.”
“But doesn’t this make us as bad as someone who commits these kinds of crimes?” she asked.
“Does it?”
Stephanie couldn’t answer the question. All she could think about was the children whose lives would forever be changed because of what one man had done to them.
“What about prison?” she asked finally. “I could’ve insisted he spent eternity in the dungeon instead.”
“True,” Wynn allowed. “He dies either way. It’s a matter of when. An eternity in prison or a quick death? Which is more merciful? You allowed him to choose his fate, which was kinder than I would’ve been.”
“You knew this case would be terrible, didn’t you?”
“I picked up on it when we entered.”
“Why would you do this?” she demanded. “Don’t give me the shit about learning why you do what you do! Why would you make my first case …” She drifted off, struggling with her emotions.
“Why would I test you on your first case?” he finished for her.
She nodded.
“I’m placing the welfare of an entire society in your hands. How could I not?”
Stephanie didn’t answer.
“I know you have been faced with several unusual changes in your life in general,” Wynn said. “Your duty to your people must become your priority. There is room for compassion, but there are also many circumstances where you will be forced to make a difficult choice in the name of the greater good and protecting your people.”
She listened, reminded of how similar Fate’s speech to her had been. The deity who foresaw the Future often had to choose between altering chains-of-events, or letting them play out on their own, whether he wanted the outcomes to be what they would. He’d warned her against interfering in the Future or feeling angry with him when he chose not to step into a chain or for refusing to discuss the Future with her.
Of every surprise Stephanie had encountered since entering the world of Immortals and deities, the dedication of ruthless men to their noble duties continued to astound her.
“What we do is not always easy.”
She looked up, not expecting the masterful politician to admit anything that sounded remotely human. Trayern lingered nearby, listening to everything.
“Death is often necessary, whether you’re sentencing a threat to your society or choosing how to stop a demon incursion,” Wynn added. “Can you see that?”
“Yes. Sort of,” she said, disturbed. “I don’t know if I can sentence people to death, even if they deserve it.”
“You’re the only one I’d turn the Council over to.”
“I know you think I can do this, even if I’m not sure why you believe in me. But Wynn … how can you be confident when I feel as if I won’t be ready for a million years to lead the Immortals?”
Wynn gave one of his rare smiles. “Do you really have to ask how I know what’s best for my people?”
“Is this you being supportive?” she asked, baffled by the idea that her dictator of a father would bother. “Because it’s really freaking me out.”
“I want to impress upon you the idea you are the right choice and you can do this. There’s a learning curve, but you have what it takes to succeed.”
“Thank you. I think,” she said and straightened. “It’s going to take me time.”
“You have time.”
He’d done this before, made her believe he was genuinely pleased to have her in the family and to have a daughter. She’d fallen for it every time without being able to tell whether he was serious.
She was caught in his game once more. It wasn’t his subtle charisma alone, but the combination of charisma and the hope she’d always had of finding out her father wanted her in his life as much as she had always dreamed of having him in hers. It was impossible to forget what he was, but sometimes, she believed there was something redeemable in him.
“Our next order of business is to meet with the new heads of the four families who betrayed us and identify any other traitors,” Wynn said. He turned away and began walking.
Stephanie’s warmth and hope vanished. It was difficult to want his approval, when he’d beheaded eight people at their last dinner.
“Wait,” Stephanie called. “Before you flip back into murder-Wynn again, there’s something I wanted to tell you.”
“It’s not necessary,” he replied.
“It’s necessary for me,” she said firmly and drew abreast of him. Gazing at the enigmatic man she couldn’t decide if she should fear or respect, she drew a deep breath. “I know you arranged for me to see Fate. I wanted to thank you.”
“As I said, it’s not necessary,” he replied.
“Can’t you say you’re welcome, like a normal person?” she retorted. “I’m playing your games. Just humor me for two seconds.”
“I needed to keep you out of Hell.”
I’m afraid of losing my mate.
She blinked, astounded by Wynn’s fear and that she could read it. “Bullshit! You did it because you understand,” she said, startled.
“I was wondering who taught Andre that particular curse.”
“Don’t deflect, Wynn. It’s true, isn’t it?” she persisted. “You knew I was hurting, because you understood what it meant to have a mate. Karma -”
“Enough.” Wynn’s voice was low, lethal. He stopped and went stiff at the mention of his mate’s name. “We will not discuss this.”
He stalked away.
His mind was closed to her, but Stephanie didn’t need confirmation that his relationship was in trouble.
Why did it surprise her that the man who planned every nanosecond of his life and the lives of his family could care enough about his mate to fear losing her?
She started to smile. She didn’t mind Wynn being miserable, but when she thought about what Karma was going through, Stephanie’s smile faded. Karma didn’t deserve the suffering Wynn appeared to be suffering from.
Trayern pushed her forward.
Stephanie glared at him and followed Wynn.
She stepped into a conference room with three men, one woman – and Rhyn in the corner. The half-demon winked at her, but she couldn’t help thinking his presence was ominous. Was he a visual threat to the others to behave, or did Wynn have more plans to murder people?
Apprehension and dread filled her once more. Stephanie sat down next to Wynn at the table. The others sat as well. Whereas the guests at dinner had been impossible to read, the four people at the table were understandably anxious.
Wynn glanced at Rhyn and indicated one of the men.
Rhyn moved without question and escorted the man out.
Whatever secret Wynn had read, it was bad enough to earn the man a death sentence.
No one spoke, and Stephanie’s throat was almost too tight to breathe. Her eyes were on her father. How could he ever believe her of being capable of calm, calculated murder, even if it was for the sake of their people?
“I want lists of everyone in your clans who betrayed me,” Wynn said to the three remaining. “If these lists are provided, I won’t feel the need to wipe out your entire clans.”
Willing the people to do what Wynn said, Stephanie also knew she’d never be able to threaten people with the unnatural calm Wynn did.
“In case you feel the need to leave someone off your list, I’m already aware of the traitors,” Wynn added. “Should you miss a name, or purposely leave one off, you’ll follow in the footsteps of your former leaders. But before you’re beheaded, I’ll execute another ten members of your clan for every name omitted while you watch.”
Holy fuck. Stephanie was as scared as the three new clan leaders in front of her. When Wynn wanted to be, he was terrifying. Her mind raced as she contemplated how she would handle the situation.
It was impossible without understanding the dynamics of the clans and their relationships with her family. She couldn’t determine if the traitors were capable of negotiating for their causes or determined to overthrow the Council, no matter what.
“You have until sundown,” Wynn finished. “Dismissed.”
The three all but ran out of the room, and Stephanie didn’t blame them.
She stared at Wynn. No words would form.
“You’re welcome,” Wynn said with a glance at her.
“We’re long past the point where that’s appropriate,” she replied.
“Have it your way.” Wynn stood. “We’re visiting Kris next. He hid something from me that I want back.”
Stephanie didn’t want to know what, or why, or how long she’d be in the creepy catacombs. She was itching for a break after the stressful morning.
“What will you do to the others who betrayed you?” she managed, trailing him.
Wynn didn’t answer.
“Will you consider pardoning those who may have been caught up in things?”
“You’re advocating accidental treason?” he asked.
Trayern laughed.
“Sometimes people are told to do things they don’t understand for reasons that aren’t shared with them,” she explained. “They shouldn’t be punished for it without a trial of some sort.”
“They will be held accountable for their actions.”
“Not everyone is like you, Wynn,” she said in frustration. “Not everyone controls every part of their day and manipulates everyone they meet. Not everyone is cognizant of the far-flung consequences of a tiny little choice. Maybe they wanted us to be fairer about how we handle petitioners or wanted better representation or sided with the traitors for a good reason. They shouldn’t be murdered for that. There are no surprises for you, but for normal people, they’re generally always doing the best they can and trying to improve their lives in what ways they can control.”
Wynn halted, tense. Stephanie barely stopped in time to avoid running into him.
“There’s a misconception that I somehow am not doing the best I can, that only those around me are capable of reaching a certain, albeit often disappointing, level of behavior, and I, somehow, do not have my own limits,” he said. Distant anger burned in his gaze.
She stared at him, startled by the heat in his tone.
“I do the best I can given who I am. I may not always make the right choices, but I do accept responsibility for my own actions. I don’t expect anyone in my life to act differently,” he said.
“You can’t dictate how someone else behaves.”
“I can enforce it.”
“No, you can’t!” she exclaimed. “Or maybe you can, but you shouldn’t. You’ve created a world where everyone is terrified of you. Yes, they might act the way you want them to around you, but all you’re doing is delaying the inevitable. You’re feeding a volcano and one day, it will erupt! Why else do you think four clans were willing to betray you? I read their fears. They all knew what you’d do to them if they were caught, but they took the chance anyway.”
He was silent.
“You have limits, too, and maybe mercy and compassion are two of those limits. But you are brilliant and logical. If you can’t show mercy or compassion, then are you capable of seeing they are tools that should be used in some situations?”
“No,” he said quietly. “I am not.”
Speechless, Stephanie realized she hadn’t considered the idea Wynn couldn’t show mercy. Andre’s claim that their father originated from a different era echoed in her mind. What kind of world had Wynn come from where he didn’t experience or understand basic empathy? Kindness?
“You are capable of love. You love your family. It’s twisted but you do,” she reasoned, grappling with the depths of Wynn’s dysfunction.
“Love?” He raised an eyebrow. “I respect my duty to my family, which is why all of them are alive, except for the two who crossed Darkyn.”
“Some part of you recognizes that your methods aren’t going to move the society forward, or you wouldn’t want someone like me to lead. You know I’m compassionate. You said so in your speech,” she continued. “There’s more to you than duty. You do love us.”
“Duty is all that matters. Love is wasted energy.”
“Love is the only worthwhile meaning to do anything! If you don’t love your people, then what the hell are you doing in charge?” she snapped. “Love means putting someone else’s interests above your own and wanting to see them happy and growing. It’s about working through issues and not throwing them in the dungeon or murdering them because they didn’t meet your expectations, because expectations have no place in love at all. It’s about the greater good of the relationship. Sometimes you compromise what you want so both of you are better off together. If you don’t do what you do for love, then why do anything at all?”
“Duty will always trump love,” he said.
“It shouldn’t. I can guarantee you that one day, love will trump duty.”
“It sounds tedious and dreadful,” he replied.
“God! Talking to you is like beating my head against a cement wall! I don’t know why I do it!” she cried.
To her surprise, Wynn smiled.
“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?” she demanded.
“A little,” he admitted.
“Here I thought you didn’t have a fucking sense of humor!”
“We aren’t the same person, Stephanie. We aren’t capable of the same things.”
“Everyone is capable of caring for someone else, Wynn. Sometimes, I’m convinced you’re a psychopath, and sometimes, I think there’s more to you. A psychopath would let me take my chances with the four clans or not bother training me at all. A psychopath wouldn’t be capable of caring about duty to something greater than himself,” she said. “You care. I know you do.”
“If you insist,” he said.
“Maybe you’re the one who can’t see what you feel.” She released a breath of exasperation. “It’s not me I’m concerned about. It’s Karma. She deserves better treatment than how you treat the rest of your family.”
“That is not your concern.” This was spoken in his cold tone.
“You interfered in my relationship with Fate!” she returned. “If there’s anyone who deserves the best of you, it’s her. If you can’t break through this Wynn-knows-all-duty shit, you don’t deserve someone who loves with all her heart and soul the way she does. She will wither and die if you don’t learn real quick how to care for someone else.” Fed up with trying to hold a frank conversation with him, Stephanie brushed past him and began walking.
Trayern trailed her. She didn’t care if Wynn did or not; she knew their destination.
“Karma,” Trayern murmured. “Interesting.”
“I know what you’re doing, asshole. Collecting information on our weaknesses and strengths.”
“Darkyn didn’t send me here for the company or food.”
If Trayern was representative of demons in general, Stephanie had no idea how Deidre remained sane living with Darkyn.
She continued walking through the castle and into the catacombs. She didn’t stop until she reached Kris’ cell. Rather than direct the guard to open it, she waited.
Wynn joined her several minutes later. Stephanie studied him discreetly. She held out for some evidence her words had penetrated his thick shell.
If they did, he gave no sign. He appeared as stoic and detached as ever. He entered Kris’ cell and closed the door behind him.
Stephanie wanted to scream. Instead, she leaned against the wall to wait.
The doors to the cells that once held Rhyn and Kiki yawned open. If nothing else, Wynn had seen fit to release two of his sons. Stephanie wanted to believe it was because he had some tiny flame of compassion that Karma could stoke into a fire.
Why do I give him the benefit of the doubt? She didn’t know except that it was hard to give up on the father she’d always wanted, even if that father was Wynn. The harsh patriarch held all the pieces to this puzzle, and she couldn’t penetrate his brain to understand what he was doing and why.
Trayern flipped a knife in the air, distracting her from her thoughts.
“What’s your story?” she asked.
He ignored her.
“How does Darkyn trust you if you fucked up?” she rephrased.
He caught the knife and looked at her.
“When Wynn tried to kill me, you were afraid of fucking up twice, because Darkyn wouldn’t let you live this time. How is it he trusts you?”
For a moment, she didn’t think her fanged babysitter was going to answer.
Trayern studied her briefly. “If warranted, Darkyn gives second chances to those he can’t replace, after an extended visit to the bowels of Hell where we learn what happens if we fail twice.”
“That sounds awful,” Stephanie said. She found it impossible to pity any creature who fed off humans. “Why are you irreplaceable?”
“I’ve served him since we were hatched.”
She started to laugh then stopped. “You’re his friend?”
Trayern growled. “Demons don’t have friends.” He all but spat the last word. “He’s my master. I serve him at his will, and I possess skills he finds useful. I have failed him once since time began, and I will not fail him again.”
“You almost did,” she pointed out.
“I saved your life, half-breed.”
Stephanie was quiet. She’d fallen unconscious after Wynn stabbed her. Her last memory was of Trayern trying to stop the bleeding while Wynn looked on.
“I was directed not to interfere, but you gave me no choice.” The way the demon looked at her, he blamed her for being stabbed.
“Did my mother appear after Wynn stabbed me?” she asked.
“Not before you would’ve bled out.”
Stephanie folded her arms across her chest.
“I stopped the bleeding, and Wynn healed you,” Trayern continued. “Your mother appeared soon after.”
I shouldn’t have asked, she thought, disturbed by the role everyone played that night. It never should have come to the point where her father stabbed her, a demon saved her, and her mother was outed as a goddess.
“I couldn’t stop the bleeding with pressure. Want to know how hard it is to dig into a stupid half-breed’s chest and hold an artery closed when you haven’t fed in weeks?” Trayern lifted his hand in front of her face, and his black nails lengthened. They resembled sharp talons. “I know only three demons with enough discipline not to dig until they found your heart. Heart blood is the sweetest.”
“I understand!” Stephanie pushed his hand away, sickened by the thought of someone carving out her chest like she was a pumpkin. “I don’t need to know more.”
With a smile, Trayern began tossing his knife again, signaling the end of their discussion.
Stephanie watched the talons on his hand return to long fingernails, unsettled by the reminder of the monster assigned to her. She’d grown accustomed to his surly presence but she often forgot what he could do to her and anyone around her, if he chose to or if he weren’t the disciplined creature he claimed to be.
Wynn emerged from Kris’ cell. Without looking at her, he strode down the hallway.
“Where to next?” she asked, assuming she’d be shadowing him the entire day.
“War chamber followed by a meeting with a deity harassing Immortals.”
“Sounds good,” she murmured. The more she experienced what it meant to lead, the more she realized she wasn’t remotely prepared to take over according to his timeline.
No one, even Andre, could shed insight into Wynn’s rush to turnover power, and he wasn’t revealing the truth to anyone. No part of her believed the timing to be coincidence or for a benevolent reason.
Wynn was plotting something, and she had to assume it was bad.
She was about to oversee the Immortal society; she couldn’t risk being blindsided by something crazy during her first week in charge. She’d gone to the Oracle at the Sanctuary at one point to learn about Fate. Would the Oracle be able to shine some light on Wynn and his sudden plan to turn over power in a day?