Predatory

ZOE POV

Fae portals are the fucking worst. In a vehicle, I have no issues with motion sickness, but fae portals never fail to make me queasy and unsteady on my feet long after the swirling lights and sensation of falling fade away. Beside me, Rika offers support, but I nudge her towards Sasha instead. She’s the one who most needs you right now.

Our assassin teammate might as well be made of stone, for all the emotion she’s showing, but she can’t fool us. I wish she hadn’t put off that goodbye with Drake until the last second. Ariadne looks just as concerned as I feel, which is only a little surprising; of the two fae, she’s best at reading people’s auras and emotions and the one who most genuinely cares for Sasha.

“Well. This place certainly looks…different,” Sasha remarks, looking around what used to be Anselm’s office with more than an hint of appreciation.

“You’ve done well,” Rika commends Tempest and Ariadne. The smooth white walls have been covered over with purple curtains and impressionist art, along with some sort of shimmering ward. Anselm’s heavy wooden desk is gone, replaced by multiple low work stations around the room with cushions of violet and lilac scattered in front of them. Soft, warm lighting emanates from sconces on the walls.

“Thank you! We did our best,” Ariadne beams. Tempest scoffs, but the corner of his mouth twitches. I think he’s actually pleased by the compliments.

“Of course. We mean for you to have this position for at least the rest of our contracts,” Tempest tells Sasha.

“You honor me without due cause. How do you know I won’t be as unpleasant to work for as my predecessor?”

“That would require quite a change of character from you, and the likelihood of that seems incredibly low, particularly accounting for recent events and current circumstances,” Ariadne deadpans.

“Speaking of which. It won’t be long before someone comes to check in and see if you’re back yet,” Tempest interjects. “They come every couple of hours or so. It’s horribly annoying.”

“Can we speak freely here?” Sasha inquires, straight to the point as always.

“Safest place for that in all of HQ, with the wards we’ve put up,” Ariadne confirms, gesturing to the shimmering on the walls. “It would require powerful magical intervention to circumvent that soundproofing.”

“Excellent. What should I know before they take me to meet my fate?”

Tempest and Ariadne exchange glances, and my hand moves to the pouch of iron ingots on my hip, ready to persuade them if they try to be difficult.

“Relax, Zoe,” Rika hisses in my ear.

“They’re plotting something,” I whisper back. I don’t care if they can hear me. I know they’ve been true to us, or at least to Sasha, so far, but it’ll be a cold day in Hell before I trust any fae.

“Well. I guess first you should know it hasn’t just been the Ruling Council looking for you,” Ariadne begins, using the formal title for the top brass.

“Oh?” Sasha asks.

“A couple of Anselm’s…most loyal associates dropped by,” Tempest elaborates in his most disdainful tone, “seeking details about your duel with him. Mira and Leyla by name. Both feline shifters. Did you know them?”

Sasha’s nostrils flare. I haven’t heard of these broads Tempest is talking about, but by the sounds of things, I’ve missed my chance to meet them.

“Both assassins. I trained with them a bit. Never really liked either of them, but they were good sparring partners. Especially Mira’s tiger. But I take it they are no longer counted among the living?”

“They left us no choice. They made it very clear that, if any harm had befallen Anselm, they would not suffer you to live.”

“They weren’t just loyal to him,” Ariadne adds, looking like she’s about to throw up, although I’m not sure fae are capable of such a thing. “They were his…um…”

“Pet lovers,” Tempest supplies. “And they seemed to think you, Sasha, were intended to be their third ‘sister,’ if the outcome of your last mission had been different.”

“You mean, if I had put loyalty to Anselm above principles, above justice,” Sasha says, her tone measured but her eyes glittering with fury.

“Why mention this now?!” I demand. This is absolutely the last thing she needs before going into a meeting that will require her best acting skills, rather than rage-fueled assassin mode. There’s no doubt in my mind that, given the chance, Sasha could and would absolutely obliterate Anselm again if he happened to materialize here at this moment.

“We thought you should know. In case…you had any doubts about the choice that you made,” Ariadne explains.

“No doubts. But I thank you for giving me further confidence in my own judgment,” Sasha replies. Her tightly clenched fists and jaw are the only outward signs of how livid she is. I don’t blame her. I always thought Anselm coveted her in that way, given how displeased he always was when she ended up having to use seduction tactics on a mission, but it’s sickening to hear it confirmed.

“Did they happen to say what Anselm planned to do with us, had things gone according to his vision?” Rika asks.

“Back to general support duty would be my guess, from the snooping we did through Anselm’s personal effects,” Ariadne answers. “But Mira and Leyla didn’t say.”

“How did they meet their end?” I inquire.

“Quickly and messily,” Tempest responds, positively gleeful in his smugness. “A blood-bending spell. Forced all of their blood out of their bodies through every orifice, maximum pressure. They never saw it coming and had no chance to fight back.”

Sasha blanches slightly, and my stomach turns. Even Rika, who is the opposite of squeamish, looks uncomfortable.

“I’m just glad he did it before we remodeled in here,” Ariadne adds. Not for the first time, I wonder if she would have chosen to work with Tempest, outside of their punishment contract. She seems super disgusted with him now, and that’s far from an unusual occurrence. “It was more red than white in here, when it was over.”

“Then we used a cleansing spell to get rid of the blood and incinerated the bodies, and so far no one has asked about them. I don’t think they were popular here.”

“Enough of that. Thank you for…handling the potential threat,” Sasha cuts in before Tempest can gloat more. “The Ruling Council. What can you tell me of their…general dispositions before I’m sent in there?”

“The one thing they are all in accord on is that they want the truth.”

“Then they shall have it. I have no aversion to that. Perhaps the two of you would be willing to come along for the hearing, as impartial witnesses to the duel?”

“You know we will do whatever you require of us,” Ariadne answers. “But you must be careful. They’re not to be trifled with, and they’re seeing more clearly than Anselm was when you fought him.”

“I know it well.”

“Berach is the one to be most careful of. Anselm’s demise seems to be quite an inconvenience to him, and he’d jump to thank you for it by dispatching you himself,” Tempest warns. “Anisha is always cold as the grave and impossible to read. Ruadh and Najwa are most likely to take your side, if any of them will.”

“Anisha is cautious,” Ariadne clarifies. “She always seeks her own best interest and the best interest of vampires generally. Right now, achieving any of her goals requires keeping Berach’s favor.”

“Of course it all comes back to Berach,” Sasha mutters. “How long has he been the head of the Ruling Council?”

“As long as anyone can remember, from what we can tell. Even the Faerie Queen said she’s lost track, when we asked her about him.”

“You contacted your Queen on my behalf?”

“She reached out to us, actually, about the situation here. Apparently Berach complained to her about a severe setback in the mortal realm,” Tempest corrects. “But that’s neither here nor there. Berach is ancient and powerful, and he’s the one you most need to win over to get through…whatever it is they have planned for you.”

“They have to keep me alive long enough to hear the truth from my lips.” A slight, devious smile curves Sasha’s lips.

“What are you planning?” I ask her. That smile spells trouble for someone.

“My most spectacular performance yet.”

Before I can ask what she means, a firm knock sounds at the door.

“Fate calls. Ariadne and Tempest, I am making Rika my deputy during this meeting. Whatever she tells you to do, you will do it.”

“Yes, Commander,” Ariadne and Tempest answer.

“Zoe, Rika, to your stations. And don’t worry about me,” Sasha directs. “I am not the only one who will be gambling with Death in this meeting.”