Renegade (14 page)

“A diluted sample. They’d washed the urn but left some residue. I hope it’ll be enough. We’ll scry it tomorrow at dawn.”

“By then, we should have an idea how widespread the stuff is,” Javier said.

“Don’t test the coffee before dawn,” Lorelei added, “any of you. I’m guessing you don’t intend to, but don’t be tempted.” She looked around the table. “With all Will has told us, any time other than dawn, when dark magic is weakest, is too risky.”

“Agreed,” Griff said. “Anyone want to add anything?”

Most of the group shook their heads. After a moment, Will said, “Walk out with me, Val.”

That didn’t sound good. Griff stood. “I can—”

“If I’d wanted you,” Will said, raising an eyebrow, “I’d have asked for you. Ms. Banning?”

She followed him without a backward glance. Griff watched them go. Will didn’t keep secrets from him, so this must be something Will thought she should know first. If he wanted privacy, it had to be something bad.

Val let Will lead her through the pine trees behind the house, toward the river. What could he have to say that he wouldn’t say in front of Griffin? Did he intend to warn her off his friend? If so, he didn’t have to bother, not after this morning. She might want Griffin, but she didn’t mean to act on that desire.

At the water’s edge, Will turned to her. “You’re good for him.”

Of all things he might’ve said, this was one she hadn’t expected. “No warning, no ‘screw with him and you’re done for’ routine?”

He grinned, though the humor didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s more Tasha’s deal. But even she can see his mood’s more up than it has been in quite a while.”

Warmth flicked over Val’s heart. So she’d helped him. Good. “He’s a fine man. He deserves better than he’s had.”

“Yeah.” Will looked out over the water. “It weighs on him, especially the mages he killed.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Tromping on his privacy, you mean?” When she nodded, he said, “There’s a light in his eyes when he looks at you that I haven’t seen in a long time. If anyone can teach him to hope again, you can.”

Val sighed. “That’s a heavy load, Will, and I don’t think he wants comfort or encouragement from me. He’s very…closed in, sometimes.”

Will was giving her his blessing, and that meant a lot. He was also giving her way too much credit. She’d tried to help Griffin this morning, when her heart felt shredded over his losses, only to have him snap at her and pull away. She wasn’t putting herself out there to get smacked again.

“I know how he can be.” Will picked up a rock and skipped it over the water. “Three jumps. Not bad.” He turned another stone over between his fingers. “There’s something else. Stefan’s telling Griff, but I wanted you to have some privacy when you heard it.”

“That’s the main reason you asked me to come out here.” The realization gave her stomach a sinking feeling.

When he looked at her again, his eyes were grim. “There’s no way to ease this blow, so I’ll just say it. The High Council has issued a warrant for your arrest on charges of aiding and abetting a fugitive, resisting arrest, and treason.”

Val stared at him. God, she should’ve expected this. Should’ve seen it coming. If only she’d stopped to think. But she hadn’t, and the news hit her like a bolt of lightning.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She nodded at him, forcing words through her tight throat. “Thanks for letting me know.”

Griffin materialized at her side. He reached for her with his face hard, eyes blazing. “Valeria, honey, I—”

“Don’t.” She drew a breath that felt as though knives raked her lungs. “Just don’t.”

She couldn’t accept comfort from a man who rejected her concern for him. With her chest heavy and her eyes stinging, she walked down the bank to get as far away from him as she could.

T
wo hours after leaving Tasha’s, Stefan sat in the Council chamber listening to a lunatic proposal. Joe Healey had pushed more than half the Council into supporting his insanely dangerous counterstrike against the ghouls.

Stefan’s eyes met Will’s disgusted ones briefly. Maybe they hadn’t credited Healey with enough drive. Or maybe he really wanted to keep his temporary job.

Stefan stared hard at him. “Joe, what makes you think you have enough deputies to storm any nest after what happened to Banning at Milledgeville?”

“Northeast Collegium has offered us some fill-ins until our injured recover, and the Midwest has said—”

“Not what I meant,” Stefan snapped. “Ghoul defenses cut Banning’s group to ribbons, and you want to attack this place near Americus just because it was described on her whiteboard as a breeding center? For all you know, you’ll be as vulnerable as she was.”

A few heads nodded. A couple of councilors rolled their eyes.

“You’re not a tactician, Dr. Harper,” Healey began.

“No, I’m the man who patches up the tactician’s wounded.”

Lisa Turner, the plump, graying-blond headmistress of the academy, leaned out to look at Stefan. “We have to do something. Those ghoul bastards are laughing at us. Payback provides not only retribution but intimidation.”

“Only,” Gerry Armitage said, “if the payback succeeds. I agree with Stefan. This is too risky.”

“Far too risky,” Gene Blake said. “Joe, we’ve no business borrowing personnel only to put them at risk.”

Healey’s grin looked sharkish. “With the Milledgeville nest abandoned now, the Goodwin kid may be in the Americus one. Northeast wants payback, too. They’re on board.”

Well, of course they were, with their high councilor’s son a prisoner.

“For all you know,” Blake said, “this is a trap. Dare might have left that on the board for your people to find.”

“He’d erased the board,” Healey returned. “We scried back in time half an hour to see what’d been on it. Earlier, he and Banning had up diagrams of the Milledgeville raid.”

“That isn’t enough to warrant launching an attack,” Teresa DiMaggio, the stocky weaponsmistress, said. “Anybody ever stop to think maybe Dare told Banning something worth listening to?”

“More likely, he conned her.” Healey glared at Teresa. “Somebody’d put a circle around Americus. Might be where Dare and Banning are headed, to take refuge with his ghoul buddies.”

“That’s a ridiculous leap.” Teresa spoke a beat ahead of Stefan’s heated, “Or maybe they’re just checking it out.”

Teresa sounded pissed. At Healey? Or was she defending Griff? Some mages, a minority but better than none, still didn’t think Griff deserved to be ranked with demons on the listing of evil menaces.

“Really, Joe,” Pansy Wilson said. “No one ever proved Dare was allied with ghouls.” She flung up a hand to stop the arguments coming from several councilors. “However, if this is a breeding nest, it’s as good a candidate as any for the place the ghouls are holding young Dan Goodwin. We owe it to the Northeast Collegium to recover him and punish his captors. I see no reason not to proceed.”

Several heads nodded. Damned overeager idiots.

“We should table this,” Blake said. He glanced down the table and got a few nods of agreement. “I’ll call the Northeast high councilor and convince her this raid’s too dangerous for her son.”

“I call for a vote,” Healey snapped.

Blake narrowed his eyes, but Healey didn’t seem to notice.

Fucking ambitious bastard.
Stefan glared at him.

Blake shrugged, his face hard. “We’ll vote, then.”

There was no way to tell from the debate or the votes who might have a secret agenda. Stefan listened grimly to the tally. He didn’t know enough to judge whether someone’s reluctance came from a desire to protect that nest or some other reason, like basic common sense.

In the end, the Council approved the raid. Stefan couldn’t believe it. Would this force also walk into a trap, or was there a chance for a straight fight here? Either way, there would be mage casualties tomorrow.

Will caught his eye as the room emptied. “I have those sources you wanted, Dr. Harper, the ones on ancient mass-healing techniques from Asia.”

“Good.” Stefan glanced at the infirmary director, Dr. Callie Malone. “We’re going to need them.”

“Yeah.” Callie scowled at the departing councilors. “I’ll go start prepping the infirmary, Stefan,” she muttered.

“Thanks. I’ll be down in a few.” Stefan cocked an eyebrow at Will. “If Will has time to give me his insights on the best articles to start with, maybe we can have an edge tomorrow.”

“I can do that,” Will said. With cover for a talk thus established, Stefan and Will followed Callie out.

In the hall, Sybil Harrison stood, arms crossed at her waist, staring at nothing. Misery vibrated in the magic around her.

Stefan touched her shoulder lightly. “Deputy Harrison, are you all right?”

She raised anguished eyes to his face. “The deputies chasing Val last night saw Griffin Dare with her. Dr. Harper, she’s so levelheaded. She’s nobody’s fool. How could she do something like this?”

“I’ll catch up to you,” he told Will, drawing Harrison back into the empty meeting room.

“Is it possible—could he have bewitched her?” the chief deputy asked. Hope flickered in her eyes.

“I doubt it.” He squeezed her shoulder as the hope died. To keep her from sensing anything from his touch, he tucked his hands into his pockets. “Maybe it’s as Teresa said. Maybe Dare told Ms. Banning something worth listening to.”

She gave her head a vehement shake. “That’s ridiculous. Dare’s…You know what he is.”

“Yes.” Better than she did. She was Banning’s friend, but that didn’t mean she was open-minded about Griff. Even more important, though, she was Stefan’s patient, and she needed something to hold on to. He chose his words with care. “At least, I know what we say he is.”

“‘What we say’? Everyone who was there that day saw him kill Alden and the deputy reeves who tried to stop him. Are you saying we’re wrong about him?” She almost seemed to hope for a yes. She must care a lot about Banning.

He shrugged. “I think we sometimes rush to judgment. It’s a normal human reaction, and we’re no different from Mundanes in that regard, especially when our world has been jolted and we’re frightened. That was the situation six years ago.”

That was no more than others said, if rarely. His response should be safe.

Harrison stared at him thoughtfully. At last, she said, “I just hope she’s okay.”

“So do I.” If she was, Griff was, but Stefan had to warn them. Whatever Griff and Banning were doing, for whatever reason they’d circled the name Americus, they’d better stay away from that nest.

Griff watched Valeria covertly as they walked along the second-floor gallery at the Big Satilla Motel. The slanting afternoon sunlight cast harsh shadows over her face, highlighting its tight, pinched look. Not that he blamed her.

She’d called the Collegium home her entire life, and now the High Council, and most likely, much of the Council, had turned against her. Because of him. That burned. So did her suffering on his account. He’d wanted to comfort her, and she’d walked away. But she had no one else now.

They both needed rest, the final part of recharging, before they searched the homes of the people from the diner. Those houses might well contain dark magic traps. Facing them at less than full strength would be suicidal, but the tension in her body meant sleep wouldn’t come easily for her.

He opened the door and stepped back to let her in. She gave him a quick glance in thanks as she walked by. They set their gear by the low, fake-wood dresser. The room wasn’t great, but it was better than last night’s cabin. At least this place smelled and looked clean. He’d stayed in worse. Yet he suddenly hated it.

She deserved luxury. The Ritz Carlton on Atlanta’s Peachtree Street. The Westin Peachtree Plaza with its revolving bar, skyline view and plush beds. The Waldorf Astoria in New York. She should be with someone who could give her those things, who wouldn’t have to hide her in motels one step up from rat traps.

She stood in the center of the room as though she didn’t know what to do next. Finally, she sank onto one of the beds, her gaze distant and unfocused.

He couldn’t stand by and do nothing. He knew that kind of disillusionment, of having those you’d trusted and served despise you.

“I’m sorry,” she said, visibly gathering herself. “For being so shaky.”

“Give yourself a break.” He knelt in front of her and took her hands, felt her misery through the connection. “The hits have been nonstop these last two days, and you’re still standing.”

“More or less.” Her lips tightened, and she shook her head.

Standing, he said, “Come here,” and tugged on her hands.

She let him pull her upright but looked wary. “I’m okay.”

“You’re not.” Her eyes were huge in her pale face. Staring into them, willing her to trust him, he slid his hands up to her shoulders and tugged. “Come here, Valeria.”

With a strangled gasp, she fell into his arms. He closed them tightly around her, and she pressed her face into his neck. His heart thudded in his chest. Resting his cheek against her thick, soft hair seemed natural. Inevitable. She shuddered, fighting tears.

Fucking bastard traitors.
Just how many of them were there, anyway? He tightened his hold, wishing he could take away her pain as well as the danger.

“I can manage,” she choked, pushing against him.

“Sssh.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “You’ve had two days from hell. There’s nothing wrong with needing to lean on someone once in a while.”

She looked directly into his eyes, her own bright and watery, but focused. Defiant. “There’s nothing wrong with letting someone share your grief for your lost friends, either.”

Her expression held no pity, only concern that made him ashamed of his earlier reaction, but he wasn’t going to spew his feelings all over her. Wallowing in them just gave them more power.

“Okay,” he managed at last. He couldn’t think what else to say. At least Valeria seemed satisfied, lowering her head to his shoulder again.

She wasn’t only letting him hold her now but was holding him in return, with her arms locked around his waist. He slid a hand into the silky strands of her honey-brown hair, stroking. Easing her, he hoped.

As they stood together, tender warmth stole into his heart. He’d had no one to offer him the simple comfort of an embrace in years. He held her closer, breathing in her honeysuckle scent.

Gradually, he noticed her firm breasts pressed against his chest, her belly against his. Memory taunted him with the feel of her curves under his palms, the taste of her skin on his lips. His blood stirred. He should step back before his body betrayed him, but his hands refused to slide away from her.

Valeria lifted her head, a questioning look in her soft, warm eyes. Maybe he was crazy, maybe he’d regret this, maybe he was taking advantage, but he couldn’t stop himself.

He lowered his head and kissed her.

Her lips parted on a sigh that made him hard instantly. Her hands slid up his back, stroking in a caress that was tender, like her lips against his. They were unbearably sweet and had him aching for more.

Deepening the kiss, he plunged his tongue into her warm, soft mouth, stroking and claiming. Her tongue met his, welcoming him, igniting his blood. He barely heard the faint, wordless sound she made as she tightened her hold on his waist. Her body sagged into his, yielding, and he burned for her.

Kissing Valeria’s neck, reveling in her gasps of pleasure and the feel of her fingers roaming his body, he caressed her smooth hips, ripe breasts. Every touch ratcheted up his craving for her. She slid a hand into the back of his jeans, inside his briefs, squeezing his ass while her other hand slid up his back.

Kissing and touching, exploring each other, they tumbled onto the bed. He yanked her shirt off and finally got to run his mouth down those gorgeous arms.

“So sexy,” he murmured, watching her.

Valeria flashed him a grin before she tugged his head up to kiss him.

Through the lacy cup of her bra, he stroked her nipple, and it pebbled under his hand. She gave a wordless cry, arching her back in a silent plea for more, and her hips ground against him.

His cock throbbed with the need to be inside her. His heart ached for that too, for the chance to express with his body the longing he felt when he touched her.

As they shoved off their remaining clothes, her hands glided over his chest and belly. She trailed slow kisses along his waist, traced his abs with her tongue and made him shudder with need. Her skin felt soft and warm. He kneaded the plump, smooth mound of her breast and gloried in the way her breath hitched.

Her fingers closed around his cock and lust blinded him. Thrusting against her hand, he rolled her onto her back. He tasted the light salting of sweat on that long neck of hers, and she whimpered.

She flicked her tongue over his ear, the touch shooting straight to his throbbing cock. He couldn’t touch her enough. Taste her enough. When he lifted his head, her smile knocked away the last shadows of the day’s worries.

They rolled together over the bed, learning each other’s bodies, laughing at each other as their legs tangled. When he thumbed her nipple, Valeria gasped and clutched his shoulders. He slid his arm under her, arching her body so her breasts lifted.

Val stroked Griffin’s cheek as his fierce, demanding gaze locked on her face. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered. As the words seared her heart, he closed his mouth over her breast.

Her senses reeling, she clutched his head to her. Then he slid his fingers between her moist folds. Stroked. Delved.

Her hips jerked in response, and another whimper escaped her. Caught in the arc of pleasure from his mouth and hand, she could only cling to him and accept what he chose to give.

He raised his head, leaving her nipple tight and wanting. “You’re so hot and wet for me.”