The Brotherhood Read online

  “If you say so,” Iosif said in haste, pudgy hands up, diamond ring flashing. The squeak of a girl’s voice caught my attention, a slender young woman in a rumpled uniform disappearing through the kitchen door just the merest flash of movement. Smart. Part of me wished I could go with her.

  Liar, my demon sent, grinning.

  Okay, yeah.

  “All I know,” Iosif went on when neither Piers nor I crushed him like a bug, “is my bosses want them both dead for instigating takeovers in our territories.” He shrugged his round shoulders inside his pinstriped suit. “She’s as busy as he is and they have been photographed together.”

  It has to be a trick, Piers sent, a faint tone of desperation reaching me through his power. But I wasn’t so sure. I let him think what he wanted while I mulled it over.

  When Eva was deposed she already had a plan, forming her own sorcerer’s union, the Sorcerer Guild. And while I didn’t expect her to run off to Belaisle, she’d already been in cahoots not only with the Empress of vampires—someone I struggled to respect and yet despised for her terrible choices—but also with Piotr Wilhelm. Eva had been present when Yana was kidnapped and stood next to the king of the Wilhelm blood clan that day. Not to mention the fact she’d imprisoned her own son after the near fatal mistake of trusting the former Brotherhood soldiers who came to the Steam Union after Belaisle’s failure eight years ago.

  But work with Belaisle? Maybe to gain his trust so she could betray him. Still, I wouldn’t put it past her to use him to her own ends if she thought she could get away with it. Power seemed to be the only thing that mattered to Eva now.

  And yet, none of this really made sense. “What does Belaisle want with guns and drugs?” I shook my head as Piers relaxed further, brow furrowed, but in thought. “He doesn’t need either.”

  “Money?” Piers turned sideways, physically cutting Iosif out of the conversation, if only by body position. “Power?”

  I chewed my left thumbnail as I dug around my aching brain for answers. I’d been here before, trying to suss out the reasons for Belaisle’s actions, only to be left by the wayside and him three steps ahead. But he’d had access to the Helios Oracles, something I had no clue about at the time. So it was possible he wasn’t actually as clever as he made out to be.

  Which worried me, really. Because I didn’t consider myself particularly sneaky. And if he could still outthink me… yikes.

  I stepped away from Iosif. “I’ll do my best to take care of Belaisle for you.” My demon came through my smile, her amber fire burning in my vision. The pudgy mafia man stepped away, paler than ever.

  Piers leaned in, grasping Iosif’s lapel. I caught the sound of a scuffle, someone grunting, falling heavily. Charlotte was entertaining herself. “But if anything happens to my mother,” he said in a deadly quiet voice that even worried me, to be honest, “I’ll be coming for you personally. Understood?”

  Iosif just stared. I pulled Piers away again as Charlotte joined us at last. She dusted her hands off, face rock hard and cold.

  “I suggest you gather your things,” she said. “We’re leaving.”

  What are you doing? I caught her gaze out of the corner of my eye as Iosif spun and scrambled toward the back of the room, disappearing into the kitchen.

  He gave us what we needed, she sent. The least we can do is dump him somewhere his bosses won’t find him for a while.

  Fine, I sent. But he’s your responsibility.

  Charlotte grinned at me, teeth glistening. I didn’t say I’d drop him anywhere nice, she sent. And sighed in my head. He’s not a bad sort, really. Once you get to know him. He did help Sage and me, Syd. I owe him. And I always pay my debts.

  I thought of Andre and nodded.

  Piers at my side, I spun and left, retreating to the dark street and the fresher air. A quick sniff of my clothes told me I’d be carrying the stink of garlic and cabbage until I had a shower. Delightful. My friend stared off into the night, entire body stiff and silent until I prodded him with power.

  “Talk to me.” I took his hand, cold in mine, tugged gently.

  “What is she doing, Syd?” The pain in his voice hurt me. I hated to see him so broken up over a woman who obviously didn’t care about him at all anymore. And yet, I always had the feeling everything Eva did was for Piers. That she loved him far more than his sister, Clover, more even her husband, Felix. That Piers was her whole world, until he “betrayed” her by leaving the Steam Union out of frustration.

  No way I was bringing that up with him. Knowing his clever brain, he was already thinking, and had been for quite some time, that all the horrible things his mother did had been his fault.

  Birds of a feather, we two.

  Charlotte emerged behind us, Iosif in tow, no sign of his two bodyguards. He’d donned a heavy leather jacket lined in fur and carried two large bags. Looked like he’d planned for this escape ahead of time.

  “Pays to be prepared in my business,” he said when he caught me looking.

  Piers spun before I could comment. “I’m going after her.”

  I could tell by the look on his face there was no stopping him. But I also knew if Eva was with Belaisle, Piers would never find her. Still, it would be good for my friend to run off some steam—no pun intended. I needed him thinking straight.

  He hugged me abruptly, lips brushing my cheek before he did the same to Charlotte. A black tunnel appeared beside me, the sorcery channel waiting for him to step through. He was upset to create such in the wide open like this, but it was late enough I didn’t worry so much some random normal might see it. More that Piers really wasn’t thinking straight.

  Maybe I should have stopped him. But, I was too late. With a wave more a salute than a goodbye, my sorcerer friend disappeared into the black just as it collapsed behind him with a whoosh of air.

  I turned to Charlotte, jerking my thumb at Iosif. “Now what?”

  She shrugged. “Home, first,” she said. “We must talk to Danilo.”

  Which meant she was taking her responsibility for Iosif seriously. Her casual eyebrow raise told me not to worry my little head about the rotund and staring mafia man who gazed after where Piers had been with wonder befitting a child witnessing magic for the first time.

  Okay then.

  I took the lead this time, clasping Charlotte’s hand, knowing she would have a firm grip on Iosif on the other end. The veil parted to me, welcomed me as I did the same as Piers and stepped into it in the open street. But my magic masked our passing, blending the edges of the tear so only one who possessed power would even notice we were there.

  The front lawn of the werepalace was wet with rain, my feet quickly soaked as I stepped out into the grass, bits clinging to my heels and coating the tops of my bare feet. Lovely. The circumstance just added to my most excellent mood. I’d come a long way in smoothing out my temper, but seriously. There was only so much a girl could take before she turned cranky ass on a body.

  I marched to the front doors, the wide stone steps ringing with my passage, and to the entry. Where four big wereguards barred my way.

  Oh, hell no they did not just do that.

  Oh, hell NO.

  Before I could hurt someone, Charlotte snapped something in Ukrainian. Only then did I see the fear on their faces, the way they shifted uncomfortably in my presence. They didn’t want to be here, would rather be anywhere else from their anxiety and the internal whining of their wolves.

  Orders to keep me out, then.

  Oh, Danilo.

  Calmer now, anger diffusing away from the innocent guards and toward their troubled king, I gently inserted some power between the middle two, Shaylee assisting with solid earth magic, and pressed them apart. Unable to resist the strength of my suggestion, they finally relented, though without gaining wereform, a good sign they just wanted this to be over with.

  “He will punish us,” one whispered to me on the way by.

  I stopped and faced the young wereguard. “He will no
t,” I said, crisp and commanding. “This is on my head.”

  The four nodded, backed away, relief on their faces. Don’t get me wrong. Werewolves aren’t cowards. When they are given orders, they’ll lay down their lives and honor and all that stupid duty caн stuff just to prove they’re werewolf enough. But it was a testament to the disarray of Danilo’s rule their entire auras felt miserable, strained, pushed to the brink of disloyalty.

  They don’t know what to do, Charlotte sent, sadness in her mind and magic. They love him, our family. And they hate the vampires who killed Yana. But they see the loss of Piotr as a loss of a target. They feel my brother spiraling down into vengeance they can’t comprehend. It is the nature of a wolf to seek revenge only against the perpetrator, not an entire race. Our animosity toward vampires is long gone and they have enjoyed friendships with the spirit ones. She strode beside me across the purple carpet bisecting the grandiose interior of the palace foyer, reminiscent of walking through the middle of a Faberge egg. Danilo’s insistence is hurting them as much as it hurts him.

  So they had some sense after all, did they? Wonders and never ceasing and such things.

  Sage met us at the doors to the throne room, shoulders stiff, face set. We were in for a fight, were we?

  I don’t suppose suggesting you go lightly will do much good? My vampire’s ironic tone just spurred me on.

  He needs his ass firmly and roundly kicked for being such an idiot, my demon snapped at her. Stay out of this. Let me handle it.

  If he’s put us at risk, Shaylee said, thunder behind her mental voice, reminding me of the great black hound, Galleytrot, I’ll bring this whole palace down around his damned fool head.

  You ladies all chillaroonie, I sent. I’ve got it. Nice to know I had them on my side, though. Even my reluctant vampire who wiggled closer to me and whispered so the other two wouldn’t hear.

  Cautiously, she sent. But firmly. This must end.

  The massive doors to the throne room were closed, another double set of wereguards standing in my way. I’d been here before, back when the Czar ruled the werenation, when Danilo was trapped in full wolf form and Charlotte and her grandfather, Oleksander, were still slaves along with the rest of their people. I’d done some damage during that visit. Brought down a few walls, a couple of floors. Destroyed these very doors in a fit of anger and enthusiasm.

  This situation called for more subtlety.

  Subtle? My demon snorted. This should be good.

  Smartass.

  King Danilo Moreau of the werenation. I sent the words at full volume, the whole palace seeming to echo with the sound of my mental voice. Knock, knock.

  The four wereguards paled, one shifting sideways away from me. I pushed gently on the doors with witch power, but they remained sealed, Danilo's power holding them closed.

  I said, I sent, knock. And hit the door. Knock. Again. This time with Shaylee’s help. They shook on their hinges, a faint powder of crushed marble falling to dust the wereguards on their shoulders. Their eyes rolled with fear but they stood their ground. I wasn’t interested in them.

  Again, no response from Danilo. I sighed, turned to Charlotte, remembering only then Iosif stood with her, staring at me like I was some kind of horror come to life. Let him stare. He was about to get a thorough education in paranormal activity.

  “I tried,” I said, flicking some imaginary dirt from my sleeve.

  She shrugged. “You really did,” she said, almost bright, before gesturing to the wereguards. “You lot might want to make a path.”

  I smiled. They quivered. “Before I make one through you.”

  They scrambled out of the way even as Shaylee laughed in pure glee and shattered the throne room doors. I caught all the bits and pieces with my elemental magic, pulling the mess tight together and set it gently aside in a pile of crushed wood.

  “That’s two pairs of doors I owe your people,” I said to Charlotte as the pair of us strode into the throne room, Sage grinning behind one hand.

  “I’m sure you’re good for it,” Charlotte said.

  Iosif just gurgled, tripping over his feet as he struggled to keep up.

  Danilo sat on his throne, glaring down at me, fury on his handsome face. His heavy, black beard made him look more bear than wolf, giant shoulders rippling under his robe. I was so not impressed.

  I really don’t want to do this here, I sent to him with a hammer blow. Damn him for making me turn this public at all.

  He stood abruptly and spun on his heel, disappearing behind the throne through a door draped with a purple curtain. I followed into the small anteroom where, to my shock, I found an old, gray haired werewolf waiting for me.

  Charlotte’s grandfather watched in grim silence as I entered, head down, eyes tired and full of grief. Oleksander had been wereking before Danilo. He ruled fairly and led his people through one of the most difficult times in their history—their initial years of freedom. Charlotte had been meant to follow him, to be his heir. But with Danilo’s recovery and her reticence to become queen it made more sense for the elder brother to take the throne. Still, I wondered if my werefriend had stepped up…

  No. If the vampires killed Sage, Charlotte would have turned the world upside down to destroy them, no matter the cost. I truly believed that. And, as selfish as it sounded, I was glad I wasn’t facing off with my friend instead of her brother. So, Danilo it was.

  Oleksander acknowledged my presence with the barest nod of his head and it was only when Sage closed the door behind me I realized there was one more person in the room. Olena, Charlotte’s mother, sat in a chair, looking as weary as her father, if less willing to bend. Charlotte’s eyes looked back at me from her mother’s lined face, the beautiful older woman appearing worn out by the revenge drive of her son. And though I knew she supported Danilo’s need to avenge Yana, it seemed even Olena had grown tired of the fight.

  Not so Danilo. Grief radiated from him still, feeding his rage, a burning, coiling monster in the core of his soul. I reached for him with magic but he was too far gone. Sadly, wishing I could do more, that I’d been able to alter this outcome, I retreated.

  “Your presence is no longer welcome here,” he said, gruff and wolfish, his animal rising to elongate his jawline, to color his eyes.

  “You need to get one thing straight,” I snapped at him, poking him firmly in the chest with one finger. “I come and go as I please. Just try to stop me.”

  Even Charlotte winced at that. Okay, I really didn’t think that way. Of course I honored other people’s privacy. But this was huge and he was being an asshat.

  Danilo didn’t back down. “I’ve already informed Council Leader Svennson of your intrusion,” he said. “Leave or face the consequences.”

  He reported me to Femke? Okay, this had gone way too far.

  “What the hell are you thinking, telling normals about us?” I hit him with power this time, shoving him back into the small table. His mother scrambled out of the way, but I didn’t care she was almost caught in the crossfire. She was part of the problem as far as I was concerned. “Do you realize what you’ve done? I could report you, Danilo. And me breaking down your throne room doors will be the least of your worries.”

  Guilt rose in his eyes, his face twisting with resentment, so much bitterness I was amazed he didn’t choke on it. “It was their price,” he grumbled.

  Price? For what?

  Charlotte moved before I could, slamming into her brother’s chest with both fists, fury like I’d never seen on her face. Oleksander looked away, grief twisting his expression and even Olena looked ill.

  What had Danilo done?

  “I needed their cooperation,” Danilo said, voice cracking and warbling in the face of his sister’s fury. “Their network. To find the bastard who killed Yana.” He sagged as Charlotte’s face paled and drew tight.

  “Dani,” she snarled. “What did you do?”

  “He indebted the werenation to the mafia once again,” Oleksander
said with defeat in his entire body. “All for the sake of vengeance.”

  ***

  Chapter Twelve

  I don’t know what I was expecting, but that answer wasn’t it. Sure, the arrests and charges of drug trafficking and human sales were damning, but I never considered Danilo might do something so reprehensible. Partnership, sure. Slavery? Never.

  Guess I was wrong. Charlotte’s reaction happened so fast, and I was so stunned by the revelation Oleksander shared, she was already beating her brother with her fists by the time I understood what happened.

  “YOU BASTARD!” Charlotte’s wolf emerged, her voice dropping from a shout to a gravelly cry, claws appearing, tearing through the velvet robe Danilo wore. I suppose I should have been shocked he didn’t fight her, instead just stood there and let her attack him. Nor that his mother and Oleksander simply stared, mute, hurt as Charlotte’s body twisted in the need to turn wolf.

  But, she didn’t. Instead, a moment after the beating began she stepped back, away from him, human face returning, panting air out past her flushed, red lips filled with color compared to the paleness of her face.

  “Traitor,” she said, all the anger rushing out of her. “You enslaved our people for what, Dani? For a dead woman who would hate you for doing it in her name.”

  He flinched as though that hurt more than the physical blows, but his anger didn’t return. It was as though his grandfather’s statement took all the fight out of Danilo.

  “Think of your people,” Charlotte said. “Of what we went through to free ourselves.” She sobbed once, more out of frustration than the need to cry. “Think of your own children, Dani. What you’ve delivered them into!”

  “I KNOW!” He roared at her, the pressure of his power shaking the room, though Charlotte stood her ground before him, unfazed, unafraid. “I know.” Danilo’s shoulders sagged, but the rage had returned to his face, the burning need for revenge now as much a part of him as his wolf. I feared he’d never be free of it now. “And yet, I’d do it again. I won’t stop until Piotr Wilhelm is dead.”