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Chapter 15

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My whole body trembled as I tried not to crush the phone I held in my hands. Too slow. It was all moving too slow. By the time I got rid of the fire department and the police and got a chance to call my sister, I was nauseous with the thought of all Oisin's father might have accomplished.

He's dead by now, a voice whispered in my mind, intent on utterly destroying me.

"There has to be something you can do, Gabs," I growled into the phone.

My sister heaved a sad sigh. "I'm sorry Gesa," she said, a growl in her own deep voice. "But you know I haven't got the council fully subdued yet. No way are they going to let me engage our clan in a war against the fae, which is what this would come to." She heaved a sigh and her voice dropped to a broken whisper. "I would do it if I could," she said fiercely. "But Gesa, you know even if we did send in our people...we'd lose. And the whole purpose here is to save our clan from extinction. Not rush them toward it."

I snarled and threw the phone across the room, not caring if it smashed into a million pieces.

Supes in general were careful not to piss off the magic users among us. But Oisin's clan was apparently one of the most powerful clans of magic users out there, aside from the mage guild.

Fucking fantastic.

I checked my gun and knife for the thousandth time, making sure they were still firmly strapped to my hip. I had booked a flight to the summer lands. I thought that was where Oisin's father would go—it was a magical intersection of lay lines and ancient structures that channeled power. But it would take hours to get to the Montana megaliths by plane, and the only flight I had been able to find didn't leave until tomorrow afternoon.

I tugged at my hair in frustration. Oisin could be drained by then. And I couldn't physically get there any fucking faster.

A soft sound made me lift my head, a growl on my lips.

Black was regarding me from the doorway, his blue eye still glowing from the juice he'd taken in the fight. "A visitor for you, Miss Lionheart," he whispered. Then he darted away, flowing up the stairs before I could respond.

The moment he left, I saw why.

Derek fucking White.

The man oozed into my office, pausing to pick up my phone and place it on the desk. "Quite the remodel you're doing out there," he commented as if he was talking about the weather.

I growled at him, the buzzing in my chest taking the edge off the pain.

He slipped off his sunglasses and I saw his black eyes were rimmed in that creepy fucking red. "Where is that lovely little fae of yours, Miss Lionheart? I didn't see him smirking at me anywhere."

I swiped a hand across my newly re-ordered desk, sending papers and the already cracked computer monitor to the floor. I couldn't even form words at the moment. I felt like I was losing my mind. It was a struggle to stay human-shaped.

White righted the wingback chair usually reserved for visitors and sat, as if I was acting perfectly normal.

I had never felt more adrift and out of control.

"Do calm down, gryphon," he said with a wave of his hand.

I suddenly felt...calm. Sleepy even.

I sank into my desk chair and stared at him. "They took him," I muttered. "You said he was safe here. In your city. But they took him anyway." Panic was starting to edge back in around the eerie calm, and I clenched a hand over my heart.

White gave a tsk of displeasure, and I thought that was maybe the first real anger I had ever seen him express. "Fae. Arrogant fuckers. I knew they would eventually get around to violating our agreement."

He leaned forward, elbows on his suit-clad knees. "Tell me, Miss Lionheart," he said with a scary smile, "that you have whiskey in here somewhere."

I opened the bottom desk drawer, letting out a relieved sigh when I saw that the bottle of Macallan I'd smuggled from my mother's house during our last visit hadn't been smashed in my hulk outburst. I opened it and chugged straight from the bottle.

When I slammed the bottle down on the desk and gave him a defiant glare, White raised a black eyebrow and picked up the bottle, taking a chug himself, savoring the rich burn before he set the bottle back down.

"Why are you here?" I demanded, a little of that false calm still lingering.

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Me? Why I just came to check in on my secretary, of course. I had no idea that you were going through such a...crisis."

I narrowed my eyes at him, and he tilted his head to regard Black, who was out in the hall reading the riot act to some guy who looked like a reporter. I watched as the usually reserved man put an ungloved hand on the human's neck and propelled him forcefully back out the front entrance, which by the sounds of it, Hisashi and Kaimana were boarding up with a temporary plywood door.

"Just look at him," White said proudly. "So confident." He winked at me. "I knew spending time here would be good for him."

Black drifted back to the office and stepped inside, clearly making an effort to lift his head and meet our eyes. "Sir," he said to White.

White's mouth drifted upward into a sickening half-smile. "Did you get everything you need?” he asked the scarred beauty.

Black nodded. “Yes, sir.”

White’s smile grew. “Good, good. Pack your bags, Mr. Black. I find myself in need of a secretary. I've some business dealings that need immediate attention."

The incubus bowed his head and turned to leave.

I raised an eyebrow. "You could have just taken him home weeks ago, asshole. And just what was it he needed?"

He shrugged. "He really did betray my trust, you know. And...he needed to have someone else show him what I've been trying to get him to understand for so long."

I tapped my fingers impatiently on the desk. "Which is?"

He took another sip of my whiskey. "His own worth."

I rubbed my head and waved him toward the door, even though I knew that was only a partial truth. "Fine. Whatever. Bye-bye."

He didn't make any move to go. "As you so astutely pointed out, that fae lord knew your pretty redheaded mate was under my protection. In my territory. I can't just let that slide, Miss Lionheart."

I stared at him, suspicion and hope warring inside me. "Well, if you want to be all fucking offended because you for some reason consider people your property, I'm not going to argue with you this time, asshole. Because I can't even get a flight to the fae lands until tomorrow. Meanwhile, I'm pretty sure that psycho is using mage magic to drain the life out of my fae as we speak. So...I don't know what the fuck you want from me or what in the name of the Gods you are doing, but this time, I'm all ears."

I would rather die than make some sort of unholy pact with White. But I would rather anything than lose Oisin.

"Orion told you what he was." It was more of a statement than a question.

I nodded anyway.

White smiled at me. "Good. Then you will understand what I mean when I say I brought him with me when I left our homeland."

I swallowed. Oh, fucking hell. Literally.

White regarded me with one lifted brow. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

"I am building something here, Miss Lionheart," he said with a wicked, animal grin. "And I won't fail." He steepled his fingers under his chin and regarded me with blood-red eyes. "You and your pride belong to me. And I will not let anyone take what is mine." He sighed. "The rules of the game say I can't interfere directly. But...I will give you my resources to use as you see fit, my dear. Don't squander them."

My hand shook as I picked up the whiskey. I didn't even taste it as it burned its way down my throat. "Game?" I said on a breathy exhale.

He shook his head. "Not now. Maybe someday I will explain. When you’re in any sort of condition to listen."

He stood, pulling his suit straight. "I’ve enjoyed our little chat, Miss Lionheart. As usual. A jet will be waiting to take you to the fae lands in ten days’ time. Be ready. I am expecting you to do this job for me and get my property back, gryphon."

I bristled. "Ten days?" Oisin would be dead by then. Panic clawed at my chest and it was all I could do to keep from shifting.

He shrugged. "Winter solstice isn't for another two weeks, Miss Lionheart. And some of your pride need...preparation."

I watched him walk away while I opened and closed my mouth like a beached fish.

Black came down the stairs with his suitcase, already wearing his long coat and a scarf. He strode to me and handed me a black card with a phone number on it and nothing else. "Call me and we will speak about the details," he said, all smooth and business-like. As if he knew all about everything that was going down.

I blinked at him. He winked. "And thank you for your hospitality."

I watched the two...demons walk away.

Fuck me.