Married (31 page)

“Graves in love?” Eliasz scoffed. “I doubt that.”

“So do I,” Tulah agreed. “Graves loves himself and no one else. It’s more likely Warner gives great head.”

“Ugh.” Georgie glanced at the clock. “I need more information. Preferably before the wedding.”

“I can’t find anything more,” Eliasz said. “I’ll continue looking, of course, but I keep running into a block.”

“I can help.” Tulah could hardly believe the words had come from her mouth. Her brain buzzed in protest, her heart kicked out a hot blast of adrenaline. But she didn’t take it back. There was a deeply ingrained instinct urging her to obey the voice of authority ringing from the Davenold heir.

Tulah put it down to being born a patriarchal witch. Nature versus nurture, and nature had the upper hand. It had been bred into her DNA to follow a strong leader and let them worry about the consequences.

Georgie spun on her heel, gaze raking Tulah’s body before her curly hair stopped swinging against her chin. The spark of understanding in her eyes only made Tulah more nervous. “A kitsune witch. I wondered why your magic was different. Fox?”

“Cat.”

The Davenold heir shrugged. “Less conspicuous. Thank God it’s not a badger. That would be hard to explain.”

Tulah was surprised Georgeanne knew there was more than the fox form, but she refused to show it. “I can see what I can learn.”

Georgie studied her for a moment. “Are you the cat that’s been haunting the hotel?”

“Yes.”

Georgie was in her face before Tulah could blink. Lip lifted, her eyes hard as jet, the Davenold woman snarled, “Don’t lie to me.”

Tulah’s heart thumped, her mouth worked. She blinked and shook her head. “My mother is here, too, but Graves doesn’t know that. He manipulated things so we would be separated and threatened that I would never see her again.”

“So you brought her here in the form of a cat?”

“Yes.”

Georgie glanced at Eliasz, who was completely impassive, before easing back and sitting on the sofa. “How useful. I want to know the connections, Tulah. Warner and Daniel and Graves. That’s what I want to focus on.”

“Not Muso?”

“No, I’ll leave that to Silviu. Besides, he’ll be predictable now that you’ve told us of their history.”

Tulah took a breath but it didn’t help her confusion. “What do you mean?”

Georgie only shrugged, her mind clearly on other things. “He’ll try to kill Graves and we’ll let him because, otherwise, Silviu will, and that would be worse for us. If he doesn’t try to kill Graves, Silviu will try to provoke him into it. I think it’s likely Muso will do it on his own, though. He’ll want to reclaim face after the brawl you started at dinner.”

“I shouldn’t have done that.” Tulah offered a half-hearted apology.

“Don’t worry about it,” Georgie said blithely. “It put us in a better position than we’d been in.”

Eliasz shifted to the edge of his chair. “What are you looking for?”

Georgie thought about it for a moment. “I want to know why everyone is ignoring Warner’s presence in Graves’ bed, and why he chose to get in that bed in the first place.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“It’s too
un
remarkable not to be important,” she said. “Like how your father was essentially cheated out of running the Family, Eliasz. The Levys have a way of pretending the important things never happened. Maybe Warner is one of those things, and maybe we’ll uncover something we can use to cement your position on the Council.”

The man blinked and settled back in his chair. “You’re right, as usual.”

Georgie wasn’t listening. “Do you think Daniel’s goal is Graves’ death?”

Margaret sputtered. “But why…?”

Georgie rolled her eyes. “Daniel would gain an advantage with the Ngozi Family through Constance, especially if she has a child, and still be able to undo the harm Graves will no doubt cause Daniel’s reputation.”

“My mother overheard Daniel telling Graves to behave himself until
after
the wedding,” Tulah offered.

Eliasz hummed. “The man will eventually do
something
that gives Daniel the right to kill him, and God knows Daniel’s smart enough to make it look like an accident, but it’s unlikely he’ll manage to succeed. Graves has more magic.”

“Graves puts his Family in danger,” Georgie mused. “If I was the Mother and a member of my Family did what Graves does, I’d kill him without hesitation or remorse. Family safety comes before all.”

Georgie’s voice was icy, deadly serious. A new wave of anxiety swept through Tulah and acid burned holes in her belly. She dropped her eyes and turned her back on the group, tugging at her shirt. “I’ll go now.”

Margaret stopped her with a word. “Adam won’t be happy about that, and Silviu will be downright livid.”

Georgie lifted an eyebrow, waving Tulah on as Eliasz got to his feet and turned his back. “Silviu is not in charge of my Family. I will make the decisions until Madeleine is well enough to do it herself.”

“Tulah isn’t your Family, dear.”

“Adam’s promise of protection makes her my responsibility. If Silviu has a problem, he can take it up with me.”

“Be careful,” Margaret warned. “I don’t believe he’s as tolerant as you seem to think.”

Eliasz laughed. Georgie’s face hardened and a distinct chill swept the room—not magic, just her force of will.

“Silviu is a strong man,” she said calmly, her voice smoothing into a register that discouraged all argument. “I am a strong woman. Silviu has been raised to be a leader, but I have been raised to be Mother. Do not question me again, Margaret.”

The other woman blinked and surrendered. Tulah wasn’t the only one for whom obedience to Georgeanne Davenold seemed to be instinct. She quickly shook the thought off, folded her jeans over the arm of the sofa and let her magic burst through the dam containing it.

The air distorted, her muscles shifted and rolled, her spine loosened. Her body folded down over its own form, painlessly changing shape. Tulah shook her head, stretched her back and sent her claws scraping through the carpet.

“Nice.” Georgie’s eyes were unreadable, but Tulah suddenly knew what an amoeba under a microscope felt like. “Very nice. Basic black, just that bit of white to distinguish your coat from another’s. Subtle. It’s surprising your eyes don’t change. The Shimizu witches I’ve met all had green eyes in animal form, but I suppose the amber hue works just as well.”

Georgeanne led the way toward the door, opening it and waving Tulah through. “Be careful and quick. Oh, and, Tulah? Don’t even think of launching a career as a double agent, you understand me? If you put my Family in harm’s way by any thought, word or deed, my cousin’s promise won’t stop me from seeking my revenge.”

Tulah froze. A dramatic statement, but Tulah didn’t doubt the other woman at all. Georgeanne Davenold had taken the gloves off, preparing for war now that her Family was caught in the middle of an unseen trap, and diplomacy would only slow her down.

She would be a good Mother.

Tulah spun, jogging off with her tail held high, ears swiveling to collect sound. She looked neither left nor right as she made her way toward the steps leading to the third floor. Her thoughts were consumed by how to aid the Davenolds, knowing it would be to her advantage as well.

Adam had promised to protect her. Tulah hoped it was enough, but it wouldn’t stop her from trying to gain a similar promise from his cousin and Silviu. Tulah could use all the help she could get, especially since she’d abandoned the plan her mother favored. The best way to back Georgie and Silviu into the right corner would be to give them all the information she could gather and make them indebted to her.

A few rooms before the stairwell, a door swung open. Her room. Tulah slowed. Her mother stepped past the door, shooting a quick look toward the stairs rising to the upper floor as she beckoned Tulah inside.

“Come in here. Where have you been? I was worried.”

Tulah darted into the room.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Adam

Instinct urged Adam to pause and evaluate the situation as the cat darted up the hall in front of him. It was black, like Tulah’s pet, but there was something different about it. Not quite right—an unshakeable feeling that he was missing something. He never ignored that feeling.

A door opened. Adam stopped with his foot on the top step, holding his breath as he pulled his magic to him, cloaking himself to avoid notice. There was no need. A woman with delicate Asian features leaned out, looking in the opposite direction from him as the cat veered toward her. The woman never looked his way.

There was a telltale lack of noise coming from the other side of the door when he reached it, which could only mean they’d used a silencing spell. Intrigued enough to let his magic rise, Adam popped the spell like a bubble—a laughably easy feat, the magical strength behind it far weaker than his own. Whoever cast the spell had just enough juice to get it done, and none of the talent to make it hold firm.

“Were you in the Davenold Mother’s suite? Are you all right?” An unfamiliar voice coasted from the room, heavily tinged with a British accent. “How is it going with Adam?”

He froze, suspicion rooting him in place. His ears strained for an answer, but it wasn’t the one he’d expected.

“Damn it, Tulah! Change your form and answer me. Is he any closer to caring for you? It’s our only chance. You
do
realize that, don’t you?”

Adam’s eyes narrowed, he leaned closer to the door, pressing his ear flush against the wood. Ice crept down his spine, stealing his ability to breathe properly before numbness locked around him.

“Tulah! Don’t just sit there staring at me. Have you had sex with him? You haven’t let Constance get her claws into him again, have you? I told you to watch her. You have to play her game better than her, to win him to your side.”

Betrayal brought physical pain, knife-sharp and slicing deep. Adam shoved it down, surprised at its ferocity, but didn’t attempt to stop it from feeding his anger. Nausea roiled. For a heartbeat, his blood boiled, then it froze in chunks that clogged his veins. Icy emotion, beyond his ability to define, spiraled from his gut to his skull. He stopped trying to identify what he felt and simply gave it free rein, instead.

He threw open the door in time to see a shimmering distortion surround the black cat. The animal melted in reverse, gaining mass and height until Tulah stood naked before him. The unfamiliar woman whirled to face him, her long hair whipping out around her shoulders as her mouth dropped.

“Adam!” Tulah took a step forward and lifted her hand. Her shocked face showed everything he needed to know—her guilt and shame, her regret and sorrow. The apology was glowing in her eyes, but he refused to accept it. Refused to admit to its presence.

His head pounded but his voice didn’t waver. It was too low and mean for that. “Tell her your opinion, Tulah. Do you think your pussy was enough to trap me?”

“That’s not—”

He cut her off. “Better women than you have tried it, baby doll. More talented, more experienced. Women that know exactly how to make a man melt, how to make him cry with the pleasure. Did you think you actually stood a chance against that? Do you have any idea how many women I’ve fucked?”

The ice was starting to crack. Fast, and Adam was usually better at controlling his emotions. Rage engulfed him. Twin knives stabbed him in the back and twisted in his gut. Bitterness danced in his skull, reminding him that he was merely a stepping stone to greatness, a tool and nothing more.

“Women throw themselves at my feet,” he snarled. “They throw themselves in my bed and they throw themselves on my dick. I have my choice, and I could snap my fingers in the fucking dining room downstairs and have another ten women lined up to take your place in a minute. All of them eager to please me in ways you’ve never dreamed of, ways you don’t have the creativity to compete with. You have to do better than a fucking sob story about your dead daddy to catch me.”

Tears gathered in Tulah’s eyes but she blinked them back. She shook her head until her halo of hair became a moving cloud framing her features. “No, it wasn’t like that. I just needed help getting out of here. Away from Graves but—”

“And you couldn’t simply ask.” Adam prowled the room, looking Tulah over, front and back, forcing derision to fill his eyes and overflow into his words. He glanced at her pale-faced mother and felt his lips thin with disgust. “Pimping your daughter out. No better than Graves, are you? Your whole fucking Family is eyeballs deep in the sex trade, and the only female you all have to barter is Tulah.”

“That is not true,” the woman said. Her chin shot up, her fists clenched at her sides. “We just needed a way out.”

“So you tried to sell her to me, but I’m not in the market for a whore.” He circled Tulah again. She raised her hands to cover her body but he barked out a command. “Let me take another look at the wares, baby doll. It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”

Tulah’s face flushed darkly and pain flashed in her beautiful caramel eyes. Adam couldn’t afford to care. He squelched the whisper of remorse and kept pushing, striking out until her pain equaled his.

He was a master of words. They were his weapons of choice, the only thing at his disposal, and he used the sharpest in his arsenal, to both lash her and purge his ire. Adam barely heard himself as he ripped apart Tulah’s character and her mother’s, and verbally spit on her father’s grave.

It didn’t help. The betrayal continued to tear him apart, the anger continued to haze his vision. His muscles burned, his throat tasted sour. He felt suckered by a delicate face, a fragile composure. Her vulnerability had slammed through his barriers and touched the core of him that demanded he protect. She’d wriggled deeper than any other woman ever had, hurt him worse than any other woman ever could.

She was no better than the rest of them, and worse than most. A least their treachery was an open secret, not hiding behind a heart-twisting defenselessness and a sweet surrender to his needs.