Hidden the dark forgotte.., p.4
Hidden: The Dark Forgotten, page 4
“I’m proud of you,” said her mother.
Lila spun. Galeeta stood in the doorway, one hand on the frame as if she needed support. Like all the Fernblade fae, her face was elegantly sculpted, with gray eyes and light gold hair. Healing drained the practitioner in a way other magic did not. Dark circles rimmed her eyes, stark against the unusual pallor of her skin.
“What did I do?” Lila asked, almost startled. Galeeta rarely praised anyone, much less her wayward daughter.
“You struck down the wolf. I didn’t think you had the courage for that.” The words were quiet, suitable for a sickroom, but they still had the sting of a two-edged compliment.
“I trained in combat,” Lila replied. “I served my time, like everyone else.”
“A few years in the auxiliary guard is one thing. Real combat is another matter.” Galeeta swept forward, taking the chair next to Ademar’s bed. The lamplight shimmered on her gown’s silver trim. “You showed your true colors tonight. You’re one of the family, after all.”
Lila flinched inside, but the pain quickly flared to anger. “Just because I choose to live in the city instead of the palace doesn’t change the fact that I love my family.”
Galeeta gave a dismissive shrug. “I never know what to expect from you, daughter.”
It was an old, old argument about obedience and duty. She’d moved away to escape the conversation, and she wasn’t about to resume it now. “Expect that I’ll sit by your side tonight and keep you company.”
“Very well.” Galeeta studied her sleeping son. “You literally snatched him from the jaws of death. I hope I can save his life.”
“How bad is the injury?”
“Time alone will tell, but he heals well. Only one scar from that duel with Lord Patrus. Otherwise, he is perfect.”
“Nonsense. He is entirely perfect. The best of brothers.” Lila had almost forgotten the duel between Ademar and the spiteful lordling. Patrus had learned the hard way that when Lila said no, she meant it. Her only regret was not skewering him herself.
“Immortals bear unhealed wounds forever,” Galeeta said softly. “I hope with all my heart this fresh injury mends.”
Emotion quickened Lila’s breath—a wave of something between protectiveness and rage. The wolf had much to answer for, sneaking in where he didn’t belong. What had he and the vampire been doing here? Spying? Thieving?
“Where’s Father?” she asked. “He needs to know about this.”
“He wasn’t able to come,” Galeeta replied. “I’ll tell you about that later.”
That wasn’t unusual—as close as they were, her parents pursued very different interests. They had been a love match and remained that way through five children and as many centuries. Gareth and Galeeta. Galeeta and Gareth. Together when it counted, but very much their own independent personalities.
“But you’ll contact him?” Lila persisted.
“Absolutely,” Galeeta said lightly. “Just as soon as I can.”
Lila drew closer to the bed, her fingers trailing along the edge of the silken comforter. Ademar remained still, only his slow, steady breath showing he was anything but an effigy. She reached out, aching to touch her brother, to draw reassurance from the warmth of his skin. Galeeta seized her wrist, but softened the gesture by folding Lila’s hand in her own.
“He needs to sleep.” Galeeta caught her lip in her teeth, an oddly vulnerable expression.
Lila squeezed her mother’s hand. “Perhaps you should, too.”
Her mother’s thin slice of a smile spoke volumes. “These are complicated times. Sleep is a luxury I haven’t enjoyed much lately.”
“I have questions. A lot of them.” Lila met her mother’s clear gaze. “And not just about that wolf. Who or what are those guards of yours? And why was Ademar the one waiting for Lord Teegar?”
Galeeta paused, clearly choosing her words. “Trust me, your brother was doing his duty.”
“Is that all you’re going to say? He bespelled a captain of the Royal Guard.”
Raising her free hand, Galeeta brushed her fingers over Lila’s cheek. “I promise to tell you everything I know, but first I need you to do something for me.”
Lila hesitated, torn between the desire to help and her instinctive caution. Since she’d arrived, four people had been left unconscious. A sensible person would leave. “What do you need?”
Her mother slipped a hand into the pouch at her waist and drew out a plastic fob that looked incongruous against the silk and gems of her robe. “First, beware of using magic in the underground levels of this building. The area is warded against intruders, and most spells will not work or will work in an unpredictable fashion. Some might trigger a dangerous counterattack.”
Lila digested this in silence, unease knotting the muscles in her back. “And that fob?”
“It opens the doors confining our unexpected guests. There is also a key code I will give you. The doors lock automatically, so you do not need either to close them again.”
Lila remained still, unsure how to react. She’d been a guard and made her share of arrests, but those had been partygoers with a skinful of wine. This was something far darker. “You have cells here? In a way station?”
Her mother’s gaze strayed from Lila to Ademar and back. “Find out what the wolf was doing here. We may as well get answers before we make the beast pay for hurting your brother.”
The air in the room seemed to thicken as Lila studied her brother’s still figure. The scar on his cheek was livid against his extreme pallor. In her mind’s eye, she saw fangs rending flesh all over again. Bright blood spilled on the black and white floor.
Before she formed a conscious thought, Lila grasped the fob.
CHAPTER 4
Rafe woke up in human form, every muscle pulsing with a slow, languid ache. His mouth watered, gagging on the burnt-toast aftertaste of magic and fae blood. It was like licking the inside of a dirty oven sprayed with air freshener.
Reluctantly, Rafe opened his eyes. He was greeted by walls and a dim overhead light—a bare bulb caged and recessed into the ceiling. He sat up slowly, half-expecting restraints. There were none, but one side of the room held a steel door. He was in a cell. Alone.
It didn’t surprise him that they’d separated him and Izetta, but a sick worry gelled in his gut. Vampires—who inspired much fear and little compassion—did not fare well as prisoners. More often than not, they starved or became a science experiment.
Rafe rolled to his feet, stumbling as his muscles got over being knocked out cold. Shifters normally healed when they changed, but the spell that brought him down wasn’t a normal injury. His back felt like trolls had been line dancing along his spine.
Then he started to shiver. He was naked—he’d shed his clothes before shifting in the kitchen—and the cell was frigid. Fortunately, someone had dumped his abandoned garments in the corner.
He dressed as fast as he could, hopping as he pulled on his socks. His pockets were empty. Someone had taken everything—from his wallet and phone to the ointment that protected him from fae illusions. They’d even taken his snack pack of beef jerky. That was just petty.
As he dressed, his predicament sank in yet deeper. He was alone and imprisoned in fae territory—just one more wolf who had disappeared in this valley. He looked around at the blank walls, realizing they weren’t concrete but some sort of iron-hard wood. Exactly what was this place?
A cold fist gripped his gut, making his heart pound and his breath go shallow. Rafe leaned against the wall, allowing the fear to pass through his flesh like the insubstantial thing it was. He didn’t do cages well—not one bit—but right now, he had no choice but to cope. He sucked in air, held it, and let it go slowly, willing his pulse to slow. He had to think. He had to live, escape, and crush the vermin who was preying on his pack.
He’d had rough missions before this. He’d been captured before. He’d get out of trouble, like he always did.
Come home, his father, the Devries Alpha, had said. The words came first in a text message and then by phone when Rafe ignored them. The pack needs you. I need you. We’re losing our people. Soon, there won’t be enough strong wolves to hunt.
It was the first time his father had ever asked him for help. Hell, it was the first time he’d hinted Rafe might be worth something. Until then, it had been plain neither of them saw Rafe as anything but a misfit. He’d been trouble, a fighter, challenging every rule until he’d finally run away to the Silent Wolves, a shifter-run group of special operatives.
But he was still pack, and he’d finally agreed. Maybe, after all, it was possible to come home and make a life within the pack. Maybe, just maybe—if he could find the Magician and tear out his throat. That was a trophy not even his father could deny.
Rafe began circling the room, examining every inch of the bare, blank walls. There was no furniture, no fixtures, not even a bucket. The only exit beyond the actual door was a floor drain with minuscule holes. A garter snake might get out that way, but not a wolf.
He jumped when a series of beeps broke the silence, then a motor hummed. The top half of the door slid sideways into the wall, revealing a set of heavy vertical bars. On the other side of the bars stood the female fae, a furrow between her pale brows.
He’d pegged the male fae as the ringleader, but the level look in the female’s eyes said she was no pushover. So did the confident set of her shoulders. She was arrogant, like all the fae.
Anger rose. She’d knocked him out cold. He could still feel a strange numbness in his limbs.
Beneath his temper, the icy hand of fear fingered the spot between his shoulder blades. A wolf could face bullets, but magic was something else. He couldn’t bite a spell.
Rafe drew himself up and folded his arms, pretending a nonchalance he didn’t feel. He had a thousand questions—about Izetta, about his own fate—but he knew better than to blurt them out. He would let the fae show her cards first. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“Who are you?” she asked, her voice tight.
“Rafe.” He took a slow step closer, studying her features. The delicate, slanting arch of her brows. The gentle point of her ears, all but hidden by her thick white-gold hair. Despite all that had happened, her beauty still drew him, but that meant nothing. She’d proven she was dangerous. “And who are you?”
“I’m the one asking the questions.”
“Your companion called you Lila. Is that your name?”
She ignored his query. “Why did you come to this house, Rafe?”
The sound of his name on her lips sounded strange. She was an immortal creature of enchantment, not an earthbound beast like him. He was practical, a warrior, and that meant boundaries, discipline, and sticking with facts.
He didn’t have time to answer before she leaned closer, spots of color staining her cheeks. “What makes you think you can harm my brother and live?”
Her brother? Not her mate? Either way, the creature had left a foul taste in his mouth. Rafe met the fae’s eyes and glared right back. “He struck first.”
The moment in the kitchen had been simple. The brother lashed out. Izetta flailed like a storm-tossed crow, smashing to the floor. Instinct demanded Rafe protect his own, so he’d bitten the fool.
The crunch of bone still lingered like a vibration inside his skull.
“I’m sure he’ll get over it,” Rafe said with a shrug.
Her eyes widened, as if seeing all the ways she would destroy him. If she hadn’t proven so capable, he might have been amused.
“Fae are immortal, not indestructible,” she said softly. “You’re a monster.”
Rafe’s pulse jumped. So that bite had put one enemy on the sidelines. Lila—if that was indeed her name—had made a beginner’s mistake by letting him know that. A real Alpha would have kept that to themselves. She was dangerous, but she was an amateur in the chess match of power.
“So, are you in charge now?” he asked.
Her chin jutted forward. “I’m the problem in front of you. Concentrate on that.”
Now that was a good answer, one he might have used. “So you are.”
“Just tell me why you’re here.” She folded her arms, mirroring his stance. “The whole world knows better than to encroach on the fae. Why put yourself at our mercy?”
“I have my reasons.”
“Are you a thief?”
“No.”
She huffed in disbelief. “What about your friend, the vampire? What’s her role here?”
“The ways of the Undead are inscrutable.” Worry twisted in his chest. He wanted to ask about Izetta’s condition, but then the fae would use her as leverage, putting them both worse off than before. He had to trust his friend’s talent for survival.
Lila regarded him as if he were a faintly annoying bug. “Start talking, wolf.”
Her chill tone roused his temper. It said he was no better than the slime in the prison floor drain, but then that was how light fae talked to the rest of the world. They kept aloof from other supernatural races, as if mortality were a nasty social disease.
A flash of bitterness seared through him, acid in his blood—but he kept his face neutral. “How many have you killed before me?”
For an instant, she looked taken aback. She hid the emotion quickly, but not fast enough. “What are you talking about?”
“My kin.” There was no advantage in hiding this particular truth. “They came into this valley and never returned. The vampire is helping me search for them.”
Lila took a step back from the bars, as if his words had physically pushed her. “What makes you think they came to this house?”
“It’s the only building around here.”
“That’s your reason for breaking in?” She waved a hand. “Because we are here?”
He lifted a brow. “I know my people were in these woods. I’m an expert tracker.”
The Silent Wolves were specialists, working alone or embedded in a human unit. A trained operative could follow their mark across any terrain—snow or sand, jungle or forest. Over the last decade, he’d been deployed to them all.
But he wasn’t about to advertise his combat experience to the fae. He’d already proven himself a threat, and scary wolves ended up as throw rugs.
Silence fell between them for a moment. Her scent tugged at him, reminding him of woodlands where the soft moss cooled his paws. There was something floral in it. Lily of the valley?
He jerked himself back to the confines of the cell, reminding himself that she was the enemy, a mistress of glamour and illusion, not to be trusted. The walls felt heavy again, as if they were crushing his lungs.
She was frowning at him, still angry but clearly curious. “Are you sure other wolves came here? Why would they do that?”
He took another step closer, moving so slowly she didn’t seem to notice. “They were hunting a criminal. They were good trackers, but not as good as me.”
A shadow passed over her—not just her features, but her entire being, as if some inner light had dimmed. “Who were they hunting? I want a name.”
Rafe took that flicker of doubt as an admission. She knew who he was looking for, or she suspected something. He debated how much to tell her. “I don’t have a name.”
Doubt flickered in her eyes. “You went to a lot of effort to break into our property. That’s a big risk for a nameless villain.”
“Maybe.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Who sent you?”
“Pack.”
She curled her fingers around the bars. “Even though all the wolves who came here disappeared? Are you that much better or just that much easier to throw away?”
Something deep inside him flinched. “Maybe both.”
Her jaw hardened. “The fae are patient. We have all the time in the world, and you aren’t going anywhere. Sooner or later, one of you will give me real answers.”
His stomach twisted, the old terror of confinement closing in. She began to pull away, but he caught her hand before she let go of the bars. Her skin was cool beneath his. “You can’t cage me. You’ve got to let us go. All of us wolves, and my vampire friend.”
She snatched her hand away. “We don’t kidnap random strangers.”
“Then what is this prison for?” Rafe gave the walls a casual wave. “This isn’t a wine cellar, and I’m not merlot.”
Lila shook her head. “You’re not the victim here. There’s no coming back from what you’ve done.”
Heat rose with his wrath, prickling his skin. When he spoke, his voice dropped to a growl. “You can’t cage me, Lila.”
She tensed. “I already have.”
He’d let the beast slip out, and that breach of discipline was a costly mistake. She reached sideways to something he couldn’t see. Then he heard the multi-toned beeping of a keypad. Panic seized him, drowning him like a deadly wave.
“Lila,” he cried. “Hear me out!”
He slipped his hand between the bars to touch her sleeve, but she dodged away. “Stay away from me, or you’ll lose that paw.”
A steel plate slid across the bars from left to right.
“Wait!” He lunged, trying to stop the plate with his hand, but the metal edge dug deep. The mechanism coughed out a grinding noise, and he had to let go. “Lila!”
He barely pulled his hand inside before the panel clanged shut, blocking her from view.
“Lila?” he called, but the only answer was the echo of his voice against bare walls.
He was trapped.
CHAPTER 5
The clang of the heavy lock reverberated in Lila’s chest. Rattled, she glared at the steel door, as if it was at fault for her nerves. He’d been cool as ice, but then the mask slipped. What she’d just glimpsed was the stuff of nightmares. One Ademar already knew was real.
