Page List


Font:  

“Yes. He is being called in for a diagnosis,” he said.

“We already know his diagnosis. It only gets worse with age. The only possible cure is a risky procedure. End of story.”

“The field of magical medicine has come a long way in the last few years. The procedure to cure Mordecai’s situation is now commonplace. No riskier than, say, heart bypass surgery. And just as easy to schedule. The cure would be within reach for a great many people.”

“Fine. But I’m not one of those people. Which means his condition isn’t going to change.”

The stranger took a drink of his Guinness, sucking down a good helping in one gulp. Mick’s muttering invaded the silence.

“You are shortsighted if you think the alpha of the Green Hills pack won’t circle back at some point when Mordecai is of age to make sure the potential threat is wiped out. Will is thorough and ruthless.”

Fear froze me. “But they think he’s dead.”

“Every alpha signs off on a death certificate for the shifters in his or her pack. It’s protocol to identify the cause of death. Mordecai is technically in the Green Hills pack. Will has noticed the death certificate hasn’t passed his desk, trust me. I don’t know the man well, but he sits on a very fragile throne. He isn’t well liked. He’ll make sure all viable threats are squashed, no matter how sickly.”

“Then why don’t they kick his ass out?”

“Because, like I said, he is thorough and ruthless. Not to mention cunning and he doesn’t fight fair. Do you know how he killed Mordecai’s parents?”

“Happened upon them late one evening, I heard.”

“Yes. Ambushed them. Came upon them when they were out on a date night. The two were heavily intoxicated and walking home. They were at a severe disadvantage. The official report is that Will challenged a sober Ray. Moesha, Ray’s wife and beta, Mordecai’s mom, apparently jumped in to help, so Will killed her, too. There was no mention of the bar, the late hour, or the couple’s disadvantage… But Will and his closest followers handled the forms related to the takeover. Backdating is an easy way to get around sticky situations like murder, especially when you’re in a shifter pack and killing isn’t all that uncommon.”

I couldn’t do much but stare at him in shock. “I’d never heard that.”

“It wasn’t advertised. The governing body tends to let the alphas handle their own affairs as long as all the i’s are dotted and t’s are crossed. The autopsy reports acknowledged some inconsistencies, but the matter was dropped.” His jaw clenched. “This outlook is viewed by…many as a weakness in the current magical governing body.”

“Yeah. I’ll say. So what happens to the weaker members of the pack? How do they get help if they need it?”

“They can leave, if they want. They can appeal for a transfer. There are options. Many more options than back before magic was out in the open.”

I shook my head. “I’m thankful I’m not a shifter. A self-serving asshole trying to boss me around would not sit well.”

“No.” A smile tugged at his lips and his eyes intensified as he looked down on me. “I don’t suppose it would. Your fire and determination wouldn’t allow it. You would be a wise and just leader, but a mouthy, troublemaking subordinate.”

“I don’t know about one of those things—half the time the kids act like the parents and I’m schooled on how to properly behave. But the subordinate thing is true enough.”

“You lead when you must, and you allow others their free will. It’s the sign of a good leader. And many of the packs have good leaders. I never met Ray and Moesha, but the reports say they were well liked and respected. They led their people to prosperity. A prosperity that has dwindled.”

“So how will a renewed diagnosis help? Why bring him in to reestablish what is already in the files?”

“His condition, if left untreated for too long, will have permanent effects. It may damage his body to the point that he can no longer be healed. He’ll then have to be on medication until he dies.”

“O-kay, but still, how will knowing that help? You may be right, but even if the alpha comes after him, it won’t be for another few years. Besides, the guy could very well have forgotten. You can’t say for sure. But if you bring Mordecai in and check him out, and we can kiss even that small chance goodbye.”

“It’s worth the risk.”

“For who?”

“Don’t you want to know if he can ever be cured?”

I traced the sweat down the side of my glass. “I’m dreaming small at the moment. Right now I’m job hunting and working on increasing my stockpile of money. I did well at the freak show the other night, even though you stiffed me. If I keep getting that kind of business, I can hit the fair for a month or so and then—”

“No,” he said.

“What?”

“You won’t be going back to that fair. You’re above that.”

“Thanks, Mom. That’s nice of you to say. But I will be going back, because I need the money—”

“Alexis, no.” His commanding look jabbed through me, followed by a jolt of his magic. I felt it in every inch of my body, filling me in a way I would be hard pressed to explain. My chest tightened and my blood heated, the magic’s presence inside of me…delicious.

I grabbed on to the bar and closed my eyes. This magic was different than the sexy magic from earlier in the week, but no less pleasurable. I’d never felt anything like it, unique and potent, exciting yet homey. It spiked my energy while covering me in a blanket of safety.

Aggressively protective. Primal. Sensual. Butterflies filled my stomach as the feeling of his magic settled low, tightening my core and making my sex ache with need. I craved fulfillment. I wanted to feel the stranger’s exquisite body as it pressed me into a soft mattress. To run my palms over his back as the muscles flexed and relaxed, moving to the rhythm of his powerful thrusts. The man was so damn sexy that it defied logic. Almost made me want to forget the way he’d tampered with my life so I could go to bed with him.

“I’m not sure what your magic is meant to do,” I said, slowly coming up to the surface. “But you’re not the boss of me. You have no control over the freak show. It’s a non-magical affair, and they’ve granted me access. That’s the end of it.”

His intense look held utter bewilderment, but not anger. He wasn’t pissed off that I’d thwarted a direct order, just confused. Possibly no one had ever said no to him before, and he needed a little time to adjust.

“Anyway, to answer your question, no, I don’t want to know if I’ve damaged Mordecai beyond repair. Because if I have, I will never forgive myself. And if I haven’t, I’ll be terrified I will. When a miracle falls in my lap, and I can get him that procedure, then I’ll want someone to look at him.”

“I am your miracle,” he said, his voice husky and his eyes hungry. “Because if you work for me, I’ll make sure you and your wards have magical medical. The ability to cure him will be within your grasp.”

26

Alexis

Fireworks went off in my middle—joy and fury both. I’d known he would try to get me to work for him. I’d felt it the other night. I’d also known he would piece together the one-sided part of my conversation with his mother and realize I’d lied.

I just hadn’t known he would use emotional blackmail to get me in the door.

“What do you have in mind?” I asked, staring at my drink.

“I want you to help me put my mother to rest.”

I closed my eyes and minutely shook my head. “I don’t know how. I’ve researched the matter a bit further, and her inability to call her seal skin doesn’t make sense. She should be able to summon it.”

“I think you’re the only person capable of figuring out why that is.”

I put out my hands and half turned to him. “Who am I gonna ask? A bunch of derelicts at a forgotten pub in the dual-society zone? That’s the extent of my social circle. And I can’t even ask them if they know anyone I can talk to, because they’re all dead.”

A few of the guys looked up, one clearly angry. He’d get lippy if I didn’t head him off. It had happened more times than I could count, and it wasn’t cool to look crazy while arguing with what others thought was an empty seat.

I stared at him. “Don’t pretend what I said is a surprise. Only a sad sack doesn’t want to cross over because he’d rather sit in the bar all day, which is the thing that killed him in the first place.” I refocused on the stranger, who had paused patiently. “You’re the one with the connections. Why don’t you consult a few selkies about how this type of problem might manifest?”

“I have. They don’t know. Largely because no one has heard of this situation. If it has happened before, and someone figured it out, they didn’t or couldn’t pass the information on.”

“Right. Correct. And they are gone now. I can’t randomly call out across the Line and hope someone turns up to help me. I need an actual person or thing to focus on. Without specifics, I’m no good. And any spirits on this side of the Line are unlikely to have any answers. Either way, I can’t help.”


Tags: K.F. Breene Demigod of San Francisco Fantasy