Текст книги "Wicked Edge"
Автор книги: Rebecca Zanetti
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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
Enough. The storm had turned dangerous, and it was time to catch her. So he turned to the north and backtracked along the trail, ready for the moment when she barreled into his arms.
She bounced back, her eyes wide, her cheeks flushed.
He bent his head, absolute on his task this time. “Why did you drug me yet again?”
She gulped in air, her pale hand wiping rain from her face. “I don’t need help with the bank robberies.”
“Try again.” He crossed his arms, raising his voice above the storm.
She settled her stance. The wind whipped around, shoving her hair, no match for the wildness in her eyes. “No.”
He wanted that wildness, needed it set free and alive around him. Nothing in him, not one inch, wanted to tame that. He just wanted to ride it, be a part of it. “Why?” he asked.
Drops of rain danced on her full eyelashes. “I don’t like you.”
He grinned. Wild as hell and a shitty liar. “Aye, you do. Tell me the truth, Felicity.”
Her slight turn of foot gave away her intention, so when she turned to run, he smoothly stepped in front of her. She smacked into him again, and this time, he didn’t let her go.
Grabbing her biceps, he lifted her a foot off the ground and set her against a massive pine tree. The brand on his hand pulsed in angry pain. His brother had mated his cop out in the forest by the cabin, and Daire kept in mind the warning. He wouldn’t mate Felicity by accident, and he’d have to be careful. But the woman had pushed him enough.
He planted his mouth over hers and swept his tongue inside, taking what he wanted. Sensations bombarded him, stronger than before. Hunger. Need. Craving. Possessiveness. Protectiveness. He consumed her, feasting at her mouth like a starving man.
She returned the kiss, nipping and licking, her tongue playing with his.
The flavor of wine and woman exploded on his taste buds and rocketed through his body. He shoved his groin between her legs, rubbing against her. She gasped and reached down to unzip his jeans, sliding her hand inside.
Her smooth skin almost sent him over the edge. He groaned into her mouth. She stroked him and he growled, reaching down to shove her pants to the ground. When freed, she immediately clasped his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist.
He kicked out of his jeans, needing more than anything else in the world to be inside her. He grabbed her nape and her butt, plunging inside her with one ferocious thrust. She arched against him, a hoarse cry of need echoing from her throat. Her nails bit into his skin, and the sharp pain almost snapped his control. He was right where he wanted to be in the world, and suddenly, the fog cleared from his brain. This woman was meant to be his, and it was time she leveled with him.
Drawing on control he hadn’t thought he’d have, he held her tight and stopped moving. “Now you talk, Felicity.”
Chapter 16
Felicity blinked, her body gyrating with a hunger so great it hurt. The tree bracketed her back, surrounding her with the scent of pine. Rain dripped down around them, plopping on the wet earth. “What?” she breathed, trying to get Daire to move inside her again.
He leaned down, and his breath heated her face. “Now you tell me why you drugged me yet again. What are you afraid of?”
She shook her head, spraying water. “I’m not afraid. I just don’t want you in the way.” Even as she said the words, she could hear the hollowness in them. “Trust me, Daire. You want to be out of what’s going to happen.” She had to protect him, somehow. “I’m sorry.”
He slid out and shoved back in, sending spirals of sparks through her sex. “You’re all logic and wild passion, baby. So the smart thing, the logical thing, would be for you to accept help and allies robbing those banks.” Two more hard thrusts.
Her mouth opened in a silent groan.
“I’ve promised not to alert your kids, and yet, you still try to drug me.” His hand on her butt tightened and then released her. Slowly, keeping her attention, he lifted his palm to show the Celtic knot.
She gasped. The branding mark? The witch branding mark? Her core convulsed around his shaft at the very thought of mating the sexy enforcer.
He lifted an eyebrow. “You like that idea.”
Her body did, anyway. “Now isn’t the time for a discussion, Daire,” she panted out, trying to rub against him.
The hand at her nape clenched, and she winced. “Listen, Cee Cee. Stop moving, or I’ll plant my hand on your ass to keep you still.”
If he did, and if he kept thrusting, then he’d only have to bite her to mate her. She stopped moving. “Talk later,” she ground out.
“Oh no, baby,” he murmured, his nostrils flaring and making him look like a deadly predator on the hunt. “You’re going to tell me right now why you’re leaving me and going off alone to danger. It doesn’t make sense.”
She was leaving him because if she gave him the truth, it would force him to choose between her and his family, and he wouldn’t choose her. Which she totally understood. “This is just sex.”
“That’s it.” He lifted his hand, and green fire danced across his palm.
She sucked in her stomach, and mini-orgasms rippled through her body. “No.”
“Oh yeah.” He lowered his palm across her chest, and her shirt caught on fire, burning away to embers without harming her. Then he scraped the fire across her breasts, and fire bit into her with an erotic burn.
She cried out and arched against him, needing just a little more friction. Her nipples turned a bright pink and harder than diamonds, their sharp points jutting out. He tweaked one, and she bent into his fingers, the pleasurable pain fuzzing her brain. He turned to the other nipple, tweaking and pinching, finally caressing fire across it.
She tried to rub against him to find relief, but he pressed her too tightly against the tree.
His lips dropped to her ear. “Wanna tell me now?”
Everything in her wanted to give him what he wanted so she could find relief. “No,” she almost sobbed.
“Fair enough.”
Fire crackled near her face, and she jumped. He warmed down her side, along each rib, and then partially slid out of her.
Panic careened through her. “No.”
“Aye.” He reached between them.
So she did the only thing she could. She grabbed on to his hair and thrust her sex right into the fire. Sparks flew, and she detonated. The orgasm shook her with powerful jerks, shooting so much edgy heat through her she could only close her eyes and feel. Her core rippled around his cock, holding with a fierce grip.
He groaned and started to hammer into her, clasping her tight, his body rocking hers. Finally, with a moan, he stilled and dropped his head to her neck.
She slid her arms around his shoulders, holding on for dear life. Her breath panted out against his rapidly moving chest. Slowly, reality returned. Rain dripped down and across her face. She opened her eyes and blinked. The chilly wind caressed her wet shoulders, and bark from the tree scratched her butt.
Daire leaned back, his eyes the dark green of a mountain stream. Without a word, he released her to slide down him, and waited until she’d regained her footing before jerking up her yoga pants and his jeans. His gaze intent, he drew his shirt over his head and then tugged it over her.
She shivered in the wet cotton. Vulnerability and uncertainty stilled any words in her throat.
He ducked his head, and suddenly her stomach hit his shoulder. She coughed out, upside down over the enforcer. “Hey.”
Turning on one thick boot, he jogged back through the forest.
She shook her head, trying not to get dizzy. “Daire? Put me down.” The blood rushed to her face, and she reached out to smack his butt.
He planted one hand gently on her rear end, flattening his fingers in clear warning before turning to nip at her thigh.
She stilled, her head slightly swinging. Water splashed as he gracefully jumped from one rock to the next while crossing the rushing river. The man carried her as if she didn’t weigh a damn thing. She thought of kicking him a good one in the stomach, but if he fell, so would she. Not that he’d fall. Even so, the hand heating her ass by a simple touch remained in place, and those teeth were too close to her vulnerable flesh.
They reached the cabin and crossed inside. Instant warmth soothed over her, and she fought a soft moan. He stalked into a bedroom with a red and silver rug on the floor. The quilted bedspread had matching colors in a comfy country look. The room tilted. He set her down on her feet, holding her forearms until she’d regained her balance.
Quick movements on his part had clothing tossed out of drawers. She scrambled out of the wet clothes and into a dry yoga outfit with dark pants and a light blue shirt. Yet more clothing borrowed from Simone Brightston. The warmth eased Felicity’s shivers, and she rubbed her arms to banish the goose bumps.
Finally, he faced her, his body planted directly between her and the door. “Why did you drug me, Felicity?”
Ivan Bychkov paced his office, staring out at the Seattle skyline in a downtown commercial building. The floor was oak, the walls textured, and the furnishings modern. “That bitch.” Fire roared through him, and for once, he wished he could throw flames like a witch. A bar was set against the far wall, and he eyed the Scotch in the crystal decanter.
Rudger chuckled, seated on a tight leather guest chair across the sprawling desk. “She is innovative.”
Ivan spun around to face his partner, his shoes squeaking on the wooden floor. “Innovative? The sociopath had twelve of our mines blown up. Twelve.” At least four of them would never be operational again. “When we created our partnership, I figured you’d do a better job with security.”
Rudger’s fingers tapped against the arm of his chair. “My brother is checking out the security right now, and since Sjenerøse mine is still operational, we’re putting additional forces there. It has enough planekite to suit our immediate needs.”
What had he been thinking, getting involved with witches? Ivan shook his head. “This was a mistake.”
Rudger shrugged. “Not my problem.”
Ivan lowered his chin and studied the witch. Black hair, blue eyes, about four centuries old, Rudger had provided needed capital in exchange for ownership in the planekite mines. “I don’t think you’re quite understanding the issue here,” Ivan ground out, fighting the incredible urge to melt the asshole’s brain in his head. “All of my mines except for Sjenerøse were attacked, including the coal and diamond mines. My people are going to be furious.” Not only were the mines affected, but several of his stock portfolios were facing attack. Felicity had used the last thirty years well, preparing to take him down.
Rudger shrugged. “Again, not my problem. Besides, we have enough cash and gold stashed around the world, don’t we?”
Yes, but only half of that belonged to Ivan and his people. “We had an agreement that I wouldn’t ask why you’re creating a drug that will harm your own people.” Damn witches never made sense.
“Yes, so stick with it.” Rudger stood.
Ivan smiled. “I’ve kept to our agreement and haven’t asked.”
The witch stilled, his eyes flashing a lighter blue. “Good.”
“Yet my investigators have turned up a bit of information on you and why you’re after the Coven Nine.” The sizzle of upcoming negotiation straightened Ivan’s spine, which made him tower at least five inches over the six-foot-one witch.
“Is that a fact?” Rudger drawled.
“Yes.” Ivan gathered energy in case he needed to demolish the man, although that would just bring Rudger’s twin brother running, and that guy was psycho. “Turns out your mother was kicked off the Council of the Coven Nine . . . decades ago. In fact, I believe her ass was kicked in battle by one of the Dunnes.” Turned out Moira Dunne, cousin to the male enforcers, had taken out Grace Sadler in order to place her sister on the council. Witches always went for family.
Fire crackled down Rudger’s arms. “Believe me. That fact is only one of several that went into our decision.”
“Ah, but what’s your end game?” Ivan braced for a ball of fire, just in case. He really did want to know.
“None of your business.” Rudger shook his head. “Watch yourself, demon.”
Ivan clasped his hands at his back. “I’m thinking this would be a good time to renegotiate ownership of real property as well as intangible. I mean, if you want me to stop the e-mail headed to the Coven Nine right now.”
The fireplace came out of nowhere, hit his chest, and threw him into the wall. Pain radiated and burrowed deep. Sucking in air, he ducked his head and aimed devastating images and pain at Rudger’s frontal cortex. The impact jerked the witch’s head back. He hissed and tried to gather more fire in his palms.
Ivan narrowed his gaze and pinpointed raw agony to the center of Rudger’s brain with the finesse of any surgeon with a blade. The witch cried out, slapping both hands to his temples.
Almost casually keeping up the assault, Ivan reached into his drawer for a dagger. Ancient and jeweled with diamonds from his mines, the blade had been sharpened to a deadly glint. He crossed around the desk, his body shaking from the fight, and reached his enemy.
“M-my brother will kill you,” Rudger gasped out.
Ivan smiled. He was a two-century-old demon, with immeasurable power. How had the witches ever even thought they were on the same footing? Immature idiots. “Your brother is the least of my worries.” He had enforcers and a pissed-off demon on his ass, not to mention his angry people. They were a greedy bunch of bastards, and the fact that he’d lost billions of their money was setting rumblings through the group. “I’ll take care of him when he shows up.” Or he’d have his right-hand man, Vadim, take care of Phillipe. Vadim hadn’t killed anybody in at least a month, and that made him edgy.
With a graceful arc, Ivan plunged the knife into the witch’s throat and then twisted.
Fire burned up his arm.
He bit back a curse and finished slicing through the last bit of cartilage. Rudger’s head rolled off his body and under the desk.
The smell of blood and burned flesh filled the room. A truly grotesque scent. Ivan wiped the bloody knife on the headless corpse. “Millicent?” he called out.
His secretary, a mousy demon with dirty blond hair and oddly fat thighs, lumbered inside. “Yes, sir?”
“Clean this up.”
Daire crossed his arms over his chest, facing inside the cabin’s cozy bedroom and blocking the way out. He didn’t give one shit whether or not he looked intimidating. He was finished handling Cee Cee with kid gloves, and he was done trying to hold on to patience. He’d never had any, and trying to find some with her had only backfired. So the woman could just get used to the real him, cranky bastard or not. “Talk.”
She backed away until her thighs hit the bed.
After their jaunt in the forest, her eyes glowed with bright contentment, and a flush covered her fine cheekbones. All of her glorious hair cascaded down her back, drying slowly. Her hand trembled as she reached for the bed and sat, scooting back until her shoulders rested against the headboard. “You don’t want to know. Just trust me.”
He barked out a laugh. “Trust you? No dice. Try again.” While he kept his voice hard, he had to appreciate her gumption. Even now, she was trying to play him, which wasn’t easy and definitely took balls. “We’re not moving until you talk.”
She eyed his body, the door, and the rest of the room.
He grinned. “We can fight first, but I don’t play fair, baby.” His legs tensed with the anticipation of a good tackle.
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve already kicked you in the head, and apparently there’s nothing in there. The kick didn’t knock one semblance of sense into you.”
Warmth rolled through his chest. Spunky and cute, wasn’t she? “I do have a hard head.” As did she. In fact, he hadn’t met anybody more stubborn than the little demon. But the woman had a heart, and he could get to it. Though she tried to hide her soft side, she wasn’t very good at it. “You’re hurting my feelings by not trusting me.”
Her eyelashes fluttered, and she studied him, her fingers picking at the bedspread. “I’m trying to protect you from having to make impossible choices, you big oaf.”
“How sweet,” he drawled. “How about you let the big, bad enforcer protect himself?” And her. Whether she liked it or not.
She shook her head. “Go away.”
“Nope.” He let loose his brogue. “Not garna happen. You have a choice here. Either start talking, or I’ll see if you’re ticklish.”
Her eyes widened, and she wrapped her arms around her legs. “You’re joking. The big, bad enforcer tickles for information?”
He slowly nodded, enjoying her discomfort. Yeah, he’d thought she was ticklish after sleeping with her in the tent. When his foot had rubbed the bottom of hers, she’d nearly jumped out of the sleeping bag. Was that only a couple of days ago? “I often tickle for data, and by the panic in your eyes, I’m thinking I’d get what I want.”
She swallowed and didn’t move.
“All right.” He prowled toward her, keeping his movements slow. Where to start? Feet or ribs? He liked her ribs. Then he put one knee on the bed.
“Wait.” She held out a hand. “Fine.”
He bit back another grin. She must be incredibly ticklish, and boy, was he going to explore that later. “Well?”
She drew in a deep breath and then exhaled, dark regret filling her eyes. “Fine, but I warned you. One of the banks I’m planning to rob holds evidence against Simone Brightston, the woman you love as a sister. She’s involved with Bychkov and Rudger, and she owns two of the mines currently supplying planekite to the manufacturer of Apollo.”
Chapter 17
Fire crackled and spread warmth across the cabin’s main room. Felicity sat at the long table and moved from the maps to the laptop, quickly accessing her online storage server. “I’m sorry, but I’ve looked at the documents I could find, and I’ve traced the original incorporation documents to the bank in the Caymans.”
Daire shook his head, no warmth in his gaze. “Impossible.”
She shivered, not realizing until right that second how heated he’d been with her. “It’s true. Simone initially signed on to a limited liability corporation with Trevan Demidov, another witch, and when he died, his son took over. It’s called Triad Financing, and it owns the land that contains the mines owned by Ivan.”
Daire frowned. “Ivan doesn’t own the land?”
“No. He, or rather, his people control the mineral rights and several easements to bring material in and out. He actually does not own the property.” The arrangement was fairly normal, even in the Pacific Northwest with silver mines.
Daire relaxed. “Trevan was Simone’s lover, and he used her to go after our family. He died decades ago, and his son died very recently.”
“I figured.” There hadn’t been any activity in Yuri Demidov’s accounts for the last week, and considering his connection to the planekite mines, she’d figured the enforcers had taken him down. “Did you kill him?”
“No. Kellach did.” Daire leaned back. “So any connection Simone had with Demidov ended years ago, and she must’ve forgotten about the corporation.”
Felicity’s stomach cramped. “The corporation has gone through several restructurings, and one time, Simone was even out of the documents. But she joined back in about five years ago and has been an integral part of moving property.” She swallowed. “The connection of Triad to the planekite mines was difficult to find, but I’ve had years to plan and study Bychkov. He’s in bed with a witch, and they’re going after the Coven Nine, I believe.”
Daire shook his head. “Simone wouldn’t ever do that.”
Felicity sighed. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” His face darkened. “For years, she got involved with one bad choice after another, but that’s over.”
No, it wasn’t. Ivan was handsome and charming, and even though Simone was a tough bitch, Felicity had studied her from afar. The woman had a gooey center and was looking for love. “You might be blind where family is concerned.”
“I am not.” He crossed his arms, muscles flexing. “Simone doesn’t know anything about Triad, and her involvement stopped when Trevan Demidov died.”
Felicity twirled the laptop so he could see the screen. “Simone made a series of bank transfers a week ago, and here’s her signature.”
Daire leaned over, his expression revealing nothing. Yet his jaw clenched. “That’s her signature, but it was just to transfer money.”
Felicity swallowed, trying not to throw up as she reclaimed the laptop and typed in keys. “And here?”
He crossed around to read over her shoulder. “Aye. That’s her signature.”
“This was on a shipping manifest from Russia to Seattle that should arrive any day.” Keys clacked as she typed in an order, and the manifest came up in full view. “This is one of the five shipments from planekite mines, and the manifest states that it is mining materials and minerals to be studied at the University of Washington.”
Daire moved away, taking his heat with him. A clank of crystal on crystal echoed behind her. “Tell me you didn’t drug all of the cognac,” he muttered.
She stiffened. “No. Just your glass.”
“Good.” Swirling a snifter, he prowled toward the fireplace. “Simone would never bring planekite into the country, and she’d never betray her family or her people. There’s no reason.”
An extremely strong urge to bang her head on the table made Felicity clench her teeth. “There’s a movement, a strong one, to remove Simone from the Coven Nine.”
The line of Daire’s back tensed. “Bullshit.”
“I’m sorry,” Felicity whispered. “Simone has been in the States for too long and has made it apparent she doesn’t want to return to Dublin. She has a history of affairs with bad men, enemies of the Coven Nine, and she no longer is representative of the mild council. You know they’re trying to redo their image into wholesome and kind.”
He jerked around. “Simone is both wholesome and kind.”
“Simone is perceived as a wild woman with terrible taste in men. There’s a demon in her past, and while I think that should be a mark in her favor, apparently it is not with your people.” Felicity sat back, wanting to offer comfort but knowing better.
Daire growled. “Simone’s affair with Nicholai Veis happened a century ago.”
“Right. Then she took up with a few renegades, a couple of mercenaries, and finally Trevan Demidov, the guy who wanted to take down the Realm.” Felicity winced. “I believe she also dated Dage Kayrs, the king of the Realm?”
Anger flushed across Daire’s rugged face. “So?”
“So? Considering the Realm has now aligned itself with the main demon nation, pissing them off is a bad idea. Having any awkwardness at functions is a bad idea, and you freakin’ witches love functions and balls and stuff like that.”
She drummed her fingers on the tabletop. “The movement is gaining force, and even her mother won’t be able to keep her from being challenged. Tell me, Daire. When was the last time Simone actively fought another witch?”
He jerked his head. “She doesn’t fight. I do.”
Felicity bit her lip. “Right. But if she’s challenged, she either has to fight, or she has to step down. Would she win a fight?”
He didn’t answer.
“I didn’t think so.” She didn’t want to finish this conversation. “If Simone found out she was about to be ousted from the Coven Nine, her entire existence and sense of purpose, what would she do?”
Daire swigged back the remainder of the cognac. “She wouldna’ do this.”
Felicity shook her head. “You’re being blind, and as an enforcer, you have a duty to report any threat to the Coven Nine.” Which was exactly why she’d tried to drug him and go rob banks on her own.
He wiped off his bottom lip. “You’re wrong, and I’m going to prove it.” Grabbing his phone off the table, he quickly dialed. His nostrils flared. “Simone? Call me when you get this message.” He shoved the phone in his pocket. “Looks like we’re off to rob the Cayman bank first, baby, so I can get my hands on those papers that show Simone’s trail.”
“You think it’s possible Simone is involved?”
“Hell, no. But I’ll need the papers to save her ass, if somebody is setting her up. Pack a bag, and get ready to be a Bonnie to my Clyde.”
Daire settled himself into the leather seat, forcing his fingers to remain uncurled on the armrest as the private airplane rose into the air. He’d hated flying even before crashing into the Arctic, and now he knew how quickly metal plummeted from the sky.
This plane was a rental and probably hadn’t even been checked out properly. Even the chairs, six in all, were sprawled around the cabin in an odd configuration he couldn’t quite figure out. Yet the pilots were his—a couple of witches the Coven Nine kept on retainer, and boy, could they fly. Thank the gods.
Felicity reached over and patted his hand, hers several shades lighter and far more delicate. What was he thinking, taking her away from safety in Seattle? Her kindness warmed his chest as she tried to offer comfort.
Adam loped in from the cockpit, eating a ham sandwich. He wore long dark slacks with a button-down shirt, looking more like a paid assassin than ever. His eyes were serious, and his jaw hard. “I swear, if Alexandra doesn’t take care of the issue of a bear shifter dating her younger sister, I will.”
Felicity sat back and released Daire. “Tori seemed to be in her mid-twenties and more than able to choose her own dates.”
Adam muttered a bunch of somethings about shifters being lower than dung as he dropped into a chair.
Daire barely caught Felicity’s quick grin before she smoothed her pretty lips into a straight line. The woman was just messing with Adam. Brave girl. She opened her mouth to say something that would probably put Adam over the edge, so Daire leaned over and yanked her hair.
Her expression was priceless. “Did you just pull my hair?”
Man, he loved when she got all regal and royal on him. “Aye.”
She turned all sorts of crimson, clearly searching for something to say. “I thought you’d be mad at me.”
“Nope. You’re wrong about Simone, but your research was good.” His body relaxed as the plane leveled off. “Protecting me for my own good was a bad idea, and I hope to hell you don’t try that one again. In fact, I strongly recommend you don’t.”
Adam finished off his sandwich. “You two going to fight?”
“No.” Daire released his seat belt and stretched to his full height. “I have a phone call to make, and you two need to play nice while I’m gone.”
Adam’s brow wrinkled, and Felicity’s lips smoothed into an innocent smile.
Oh man. Daire shook his head, fought the urge to pull her hair again, and stalked toward the cockpit. A console desk was located to the left of the two witches flying the plane. He gave a head jerk to the co-pilot before sitting at the desk, turning on the monitor and dialing a call. As the call went through space, he drew headphones down over his ears and positioned the microphone closer to his mouth.
Vivienne Northcutt took shape before him. She’d pulled her dark hair back in a ponytail that could’ve been softened with some escaping curls. But not Aunt Viv. No curls and no softness. Dark red lipstick slashed across her mouth, and deep coal made up her dark eyes.
She was a looker, but a severe one.
“Aunt Viv,” he murmured.
She leaned toward the camera, her lips pursed. “I’ve heard a rumor you’ve become intimate with the demonness.”
He blinked slowly. “My personal life is irrelevant.”
Viv waved perfectly manicured nails. “Don’t be ridiculous. A mating between a Coven enforcer and the mother of the demon leader would be very advantageous for us. Talk about allies that remain allies.” Her eyes widened. “If you procreated, that’d be even better.”
“Then I’d better go fuck her silly,” he ground out before he could stop himself.
Viv paused and then rolled her eyes. “For goodness’ sake. Political matings have taken place for eons, and often they’re the ones where people seem to be the happiest. Stop being such a wimp.”
His shoulders went back. “Watch it, Auntie, or I’ll come up with an imminent threat and have to shut you down somewhere safe.” For an eternity.
She sighed, and quite possibly mouthed the word pussy, but he must have misread her. “Fine. Update me on the situation in Seattle.”
He gave a quick rundown of the recent human deaths as well as the known five shipments headed for Seattle. “No more attacks on witches that we know about.” The previous week, somebody had fired darts of Apollo into several witches in the area, who had died torturous deaths. “We think Titans of Fire is still distributing Apollo, and we intercepted an e-mail message about a week ago, but it was routed through several different servers all over the world, and we can’t trace the source.”
“Who was the message meant for?” Viv asked.
“Parker Monzelle. We took his phone when he was arrested again.”
Viv sat back. “I’m surprised that human is still alive, considering.”
Aye. Monzelle was actually Alexandra and Tori’s father, and he’d shot Alexandra not too long ago. The police had taken him away before Kellach could rip out his heart, and Daire wouldn’t be surprised if Kell still had a plan to rid his mate of Monzelle forever. “For now, Aunt Viv, Kellach is the closest to the leaders of the Titan’s of Fire MC, and he’s still in Dublin.”
Viv nodded. “Your point is well taken. I will send Kell and Alexandra back to Seattle tomorrow.”
Daire lifted an eyebrow. “Alexandra works for the Seattle Police Department, not the Coven Nine.”
Viv shrugged. “She’s mated to Kellach, which means she does work for us now. Or she will in a century or so, since she can’t very well stay in Seattle as the fact that she’s not aging becomes apparent.” She pursed her lips. “I like Alexandra, quite a bit, although she doesn’t seem taken with the idea of being immortal.”
Daire grinned. His brother’s mate was a paradox, to be sure. When a human mated a witch, the mating increased the human’s chromosomal pairs, leaving the mate immortal. Alexandra hadn’t quite wrapped her mind around that reality. “Aunt Viv, is there a movement to remove your daughter from the Coven Nine?”
Viv leaned away from the camera. “The political workings of the Nine are not an enforcer’s business.”
