Magick Marked (The DarqRealm Series) (11 page)

Executioner, relic guardian, prom queen.

She grimaced as she added that last one to her resume, trying to focus on her posture instead of the discomfort that came with wearing a corseted torture device.

They arrived at the top of the hill, and a man stepped forward from nowhere to meet them. “Names?”

“Frederick and Rho Vasile,” the prince answered.

Rho glanced around. The moon was out and the night was bright, but she didn’t see any others in the shadows. Five torches were buried in the dirt, forming a massive circle to her right. She raised an eyebrow in question but kept her mouth shut.

The man studied their faces then peered down at the amulet around his neck. The truth charm he bore glowed green, and he gave a quick nod. “You may pass.”

Apparently they’d made the guest list.

Frederick ushered her forward, and they stepped into the circle together. A veil lifted from her eyes. Brilliant shades and sights and sounds emerged, startling her senses and captivating her with color.

A red carpet materialized beneath their feet. The vibrant runner led to a massive white tent, surrounded by oak trees bathed in blue lights. Eerily appropriate for a winter party.

Frederick’s hand fell lightly on her back as he guided her toward the tent. His touch brought her back to reality, shifting her assignment to the forefront of her thoughts with crystal clarity. Tonight wasn’t about fun or laughter or dancing. This evening marked the beginning of the greatest challenge she would ever face.

The idea of meeting people she’d need to entrust with her life scared the shit out of her. Especially knowing they’d never return the favor. No one trusted a vampire. Spending time in the company of trigger-happy DarqDwellers with trust issues only sounded slightly better than whatever fate Costel had planned for her if she failed. Talk about a rock and a hard place.

With Frederick at her side, she stepped inside the tent. Her jaw dropped, dark thoughts briefly overcome by the interior landscape. Draped in fabric, the walls billowed like clouds. Strips of pale blue organza woven into the sides of the tent shimmered in the flames cast by hundreds of scattered candles. Strands of crystals dripped from flowering tree branches, blue flames suspended between the crystals with magick.

The beauty of it all both humbled and awed her as she stared around the room. With the evidence of her murderous occupation hidden beneath layers of silk and lace, she felt completely inept in the presence of such luxury.

“Ready to meet them?” Frederick whispered. His voice abruptly pulled her out of the fog of admiration.

She nodded.

“They’re right over there.” He jerked his head over one shoulder. “I’ll introduce you then step away. Be
polite
, please, and remember that you need their help.”

She snorted. What, like she’d be rude on purpose? Okay, well, maybe.

His eyes narrowed, and she lifted a shoulder in acquiescence. He had a point. Her life was on the line and she wouldn’t be able to find the Kamens on her own. A little kindness never hurt anyone. Much.

“Prince Frederick, so kind of you to join us.” A tall man came forward, interrupting his conversation with a tiny but somehow imposing blue-eyed female to greet them.

Frederick smiled as he strode forward and shook the man’s hand. “Alexander, it’s a pleasure to see you again. Rho, this is Alexander, the ShiftMaster.”

Oh, wow. Alexander was the leader of the entire Shifter nation. Rho extended a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

He grasped it and brought it to his lips. “Likewise.”

Ugh, more hand-kissing. She suppressed the urge to wipe her hand on her dress and slapped a smile on her face.

The female who’d been speaking to Alexander earlier stepped forward. The girl’s chin-length black hair was interwoven with thick sections of white, framing her serious face. Given her no-bullshit style and her obvious association with the ShiftMaster, Rho figured this female must be the shifter on the team. Why wasn’t
she
forced to wear a dress?

Rho caught a glimpse of the girl’s stare, captivated instantly by her shockingly clear eyes. They were such a pale blue they could have passed for white. Something about her seemed familiar, but Rho couldn’t pinpoint where she could have possibly seen her before.

The shifter extended a hand. “I’m Preshea, were-tigress and our ShiftMaster’s right-hand man. Or woman, I suppose.”

“Rho.” They shook hands. “Vasile coven member and executioner.”

“You kill your own?” Preshea raised an eyebrow. “How… proactive.” Her voice was sweet but her insinuation clear, imparting the distinct impression that she didn’t give a shit about making friends. And didn’t that make two of them. Oh, this would be fun.

“Are we making introductions over here?” The deep voice came from across the room. Still captivated by those domineering eyes, Rho watched as Preshea’s face transformed from ice to warmth. Rho twisted around to find the source of her mood change.

Oh, yeah. That was worth smiling about.

The man stood around six feet tall, his arms and chest too thick to hide beneath the button-down clinging tightly to his tan body. Preshea cut across the small circle to embrace the stranger. He laughed and spun her around effortlessly before setting her down with care.

Happiness painted Preshea’s dark features. “I didn’t know they’d send you!”

The man smiled. “And I didn’t know they’d send you.” The height difference between them was easily a foot. Preshea had been so intense in their introductions earlier, Rho hadn’t noticed just how short she was. The shifter was
maybe
five feet tall.

The man turned to face Rho. “Oh, sorry. I’m Timber.” He extended a hand. “But you can call me Tim. You’re Rho Vasile. I’ve heard about you.”

Rho smiled and nodded. Something about him put her at ease. He seemed so… happy.

“I’m a wolf,” Tim continued. “The Alpha of the Austin pack. Preshea and I go way back.”

Trying to keep her expression blank, Rho glanced from the wolf to the shifter. Interesting that these two were friends of sorts. She’d always been under the impression that the shifters and werewolves were enemies. The wars between those races were legendary.

Rho surveyed their small circle. Frederick and Alexander had removed themselves from the group and were speaking quietly to each other in a corner.

Time to focus. “Who are we missing?” she asked.

Four people had been volunteered—er, more like volun-told—to join the team, but only three were here. At least Tim and Preshea seemed happy with the arrangement. Her two teammates glanced around the room quickly and shrugged before resuming their conversation about the good old days.

Once again, Rho was ignored and alone, but she didn’t dwell on it. She’d grown used to the feeling over the years. Letting her gaze drift, she tried to pick out a mover in the crowd. Unfortunately, most Dwellers looked the same. If they weren’t casting spells or throwing fireballs or shifting forms, they could easily be mistaken for human.

She glanced at the punchbowl. Then froze.

Damn it all. Eldon was here and so were those bitchy little sisters of his. He was standing across the room and speaking to them both, his hands in the pockets of his starched black suit pants. The jacket complemented his broad shoulders and narrow waist, his shape reminding her of a professional swimmer.

Rho met the blazing green eyes of Eldon’s brunette sister, who was clearly irritated by her presence. Or possibly disgusted at being within throwing distance of a vampire. Eldon’s gaze followed his sister’s.

Their eyes locked. Rho’s stomach flip-flopped and she abruptly turned her attention to her nails, examining them thoroughly in an attempt to ignore that entire family.

Magick movers were an elitist bunch of assholes.

She held on to that thought as Eldon continued to peg her with his stare. That gaze brushed along her skin, stroking her though he wasn’t standing anywhere near her and she wasn’t looking at him. Her sheer proximity to that mover stirred her lust and she growled in frustration. What was it with this guy?

“You okay?” Preshea crept up behind her.

Rho’s breath caught as she swiveled toward the shifter. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just waiting for our tardy teammate.”

Timber pointed behind her. “I think he’s arrived.”

Rho spun around to see Eldon advancing toward her.

“No, he’s only an acquaintance,” she answered quickly. The glare she shot him all but screamed
‘go away!’
as she motioned with her hand in an attempt to wave him off. He didn’t stop. God, she
so
didn’t need him distracting her right now.

“No what?” Eldon stepped forward, making himself a part of the circle.

“Nothing,” Preshea answered, taking Rho’s cue. No one outside of the team could know what they were doing here.

“Oh, well, that’s too bad.” Eldon lowered his voice so only the four of them could hear him. “I’m here to meet up with a team to retrieve something stolen. Must have the wrong group.”

Rho closed her eyes and shook her head. “Freaking solstice balls, you have got to be kidding me.”

Oops. The words flew out of her mouth before she could catch them. Not at all appropriate for a classy party. No Miss Congeniality award for her tonight, that was for sure.

Eldon smirked. “No joke. The Collective sent me.”

Rho grasped his muscular arm and yanked him to the side, grateful the wizard didn’t light her ass on fire again when they touched. She held up a finger to her teammates. “One second, guys.”

Eldon gave her a curious glance, and she shot him a glare to let him know he wasn’t welcome. And this wasn’t funny.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she snapped.

He leveled her with his stare. “You told me that whatever you were protecting disappeared. I’m a member of the Collective. When we received word that our relic went missing as well, I put two and two together. I volunteered to be on this team.”

She clenched her jaw and heaved a deep breath, trying to get a hold on her temper. This was no place to lose her cool. “You had no right to do that.”

“I’m a member of the Collective and the eldest of my bloodline. I have every right to do exactly as I please. I don’t require your permission.”

The glint in his eyes was a challenge, and she drew a jagged breath. They were fire and ice, alive and undead, the embodiment of duality in nature. The extreme of both their conditions. Somehow she knew that no matter how hard she pressed him, he’d press right back. They were the same type of person.

His defiance fractured her steely nerves. She’d been forced into this team upon penalty of death, and he’d simply volunteered? What could he possibly be thinking?

She shook her head. “This is total bullshit.”

At least he wasn’t in her head this time. Hopefully that had been a fluke, or they had some serious problems.

He leaned in to her, his lips only inches from her own. “The Collective needs me. This team needs me. And you’re in no position to kick me out, so I’m here to stay, sweetheart. Get over it.”

His hot breath sent a tremor down her spine, but she refused to allow him see her reaction. “You’re certainly an arrogant son of a bitch, aren’t you?”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

Rho opened her mouth to give him an earful then shut her trap. His lips twitched in amusement before he turned away from her to approach Tim.

She fought the burning instinct to smack him into the ground using every ounce of vampire strength at her disposal. The memory of his touch was branded in her thoughts, her fingertips still tingling with the burn of ley line fire.

Not worth it.

She rejoined the group, resolving to put on her big girl panties and not bitch about the new recruit. They didn’t have the time and didn’t need the distraction.

“Sorry about that. Old friends, catching up,” Eldon said.

Tim extended his hand. “That’s cool. I’m Timber, Alpha of the Austin werewolf pack, but friends call me Tim. This is Preshea.” He nodded to Rho. “Sounds like you’ve already met Rho.”

Eldon shook his hand, then Preshea’s. Rho folded her arms across her chest, making no secret of the fact she didn’t want to touch him. Ever.

Tim was nice enough, and between the three of them, he was swiftly becoming the only person on the team she didn’t want to stake. She wasn’t exactly sure if a stake was effective on anything other than a vampire, but she wasn’t opposed to a little trial and error.

Eldon held up a hand to offer a small wave. “I’m Eldon, your friendly neighborhood mover.”

“Looks like that’s everyone,” Preshea said.

Rho glanced up at her teammates. A vampire, a werewolf, a shifter and a mover, selected to find the vampire relic or risk the lives of everyone in the room. Yeah, no pressure.

Tim leaned forward. “We need to go somewhere else to talk about this. The four of us together are too suspicious.”

Casually surveying the room, Rho saw exactly what he meant. Their interracial circle of soldiers was starting to attract a few stares. Aside from this annual party, Dweller races did not mix. Each race stayed with its kind. She’d never quite understood why, but as far as she knew, that’s how it had always been.

Tim’s face pinched in thought. “Preshea, you come with me. Eldon and Rho, you go the opposite way. Act casual. We’ll meet up outside the tent by the farthest pillar of fire.”

Rho wanted to protest the matchup, but opted to keep her mouth shut instead. Tim and Preshea were clearly friends before this little matchup. Besides, it was just a quick trip outside, and walking with a wizard wasn’t exactly a battle worth fighting. Trudging forward, she avoided making eye contact with her escort.

Preshea and Tim broke off to the right, and Eldon steered Rho toward the rear of the tent. His hand fell on her lower back as he guided her, heat radiating through her flesh where they touched. She gulped, trying to keep her lust in check. The very last thing she needed was to stink of desire in a room full of Dwellers with ridiculously keen noses.

They stepped outside together, the chilly wind replacing the residual warmth of the tent and his touch, refocusing her on the task at hand.

This team would help her retrieve the Kamen. Or she would die.

Rho and Eldon stood together outside the tent and waited for their teammates. The brisk night air blew past them in rushes, the blasts of frigid wind squashing her lust like a fire hose to a flame. Thank God. Her dress fluttered with the breeze, reminding her of its tight hold on her curves.