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Roark lazed in his chair, a leg thrown over the arm. “Have you found the traitor?”
Though the shifter appeared relaxed, Cerberus had no doubt he was coiled like a snake to act at any moment. An impressive warrior.
“Hmm. No.” Lort scratched his jaw. “But we will uncover him.”
Cerberus smoothed a lapel on his expensive suit jacket. “Another explanation is available. The witch Indigo could have seen the invasion in her river. She oft brought disturbing possibilities to lawgivers and justices so we could avert them. Arisen Dawn must rid Scath of her.” He glanced at Roark. “You will handle the job. Move on, Lort.”
The raven shifter nodded, a smile on his face saying he looked forward to the task.
“As planned, we are pulling back for now. Training. Rebuilding. Recruiting. More and more Aeternals join us. We continue going house-to-house to conscript the able-bodied. Sites are set up to quarter them throughout Darque.”
Cerberus flicked his pen.
Snick. Snick. Snick.
Lort, unlike Roark, sat shoulders straight in his chair. “We lost Karth along with many of his wolf pack in the Sacramento battle. Those who live scattered. Rumor has it, they asked Luka to lead them again. Not to worry. I found another pack to distribute Gold Dust. As always, the addicts are obsessed patriots.”
Gold Dust was a drug which made the user a committed soldier in the Arisen Dawn ranks. Its side effects were not so good. Early on, it messed with more than the mind. Among other things, it affected shifters’ abilities to hold their form or keep their fur from molting. The problem was fixed. Now, it just created addicts who eagerly threw themselves into the cause with no thought to their own safety.
“Though we need our drug-addled recruits for frontline sacrifices, I am most pleased with the huge numbers of Aeternals willing to join us.” Cerberus swiveled toward Boden. “What about the ministries, lawgivers, justices, and power brokers?”
The director of the Ministry of Compliance which controlled the manufacture of portal jumpers clenched the armrest when Cerberus’s gaze pinpointed him. “Including my own, we have four ministries on our team.”
Cerberus pushed back his chair to cross his ankle over his knee. “So few?” He fingered the sharp crease in his pants.
“Yes, the Ministries of Wildings, Prosperity, and Death stand with the Firebrands. Obviously, Alarik’s Ministry of Well Being and Cadmon’s Ministry of the Shield are traitors to our cause.”
“Expected. What about the Temple of Justice?” asked Lort.
“Five of nine, including yourself, are with us. I compiled a list of names for you, my lord.”
Cerberus eyed Boden’s tight grip on the chair. While he appreciated fear in his disciples, too much made a male weak. Boden was weak. “The lawgivers?”
“Six of nine.”
“What is the status of the local governing bodies?” asked Lort. “They have much power among their own breeds.”
Boden released his hold on the armrests to consult his electronic pad. “As presumed, the demon Horach and his Directorate of Seven are allies. They’ve been itching for reprisals since the Demon Insurrection ended in 1645. The ylves’ Triumvirate of the Wise joined the Firebrands, but we knew not to count on them. The Vampire Conclave remains quiet. A surprise. I don’t know which way they’ll fall. The incubus and succubus monarchs sit in council with their leaders, discussing options. They promise a decision is forthcoming. Though the military command of the berserkers has signed on to help, the Amazon War Council aligns itself with the Firebrands. The djinn command abstained.”
“That leaves the nymphs and satyrs’ Dionysia, the shifters’ Supreme Pack, and the mages. What about them?” asked Roark.
“The Dionysia refuses my calls. They declined to see the delegations I sent. The shifters held a conclave. I’m told it resulted in chaos. The Supreme Pack Alpha lost control of the gathering. Rumor has it, the shifters will commit pack by pack. Some for us. Some against. No unity there. The mages’ Grand Coven has reached no agreement.” Boden’s hand shook as he pressed a key on his electronic device, sending a folder to Cerberus. “I’ve put everything in writing.”
Cerberus glanced at his pad. “I’ll study your report later. Boden, have you increased the power of our portal jumpers? We cannot take Earth until we can attack en masse.”
The director of the Ministry of Compliance squirmed in his seat. “The technology continues to support no more than ten through a gateway at once. I thought the Blood Coven descendants you have collected would soon make portal jumpers unnecessary.”
“When the time is right, I will use my descendants to open all portals, erase the Whorl, and create the world whole again. So far, none of them show signs of mage powers. Yet I understand those sheltered by the Firebrands demonstrate active gifts. Why? It is a problem we must solve.” About to drum his fingers on his desk, he caught himself. Never betray anxiety. “Dismissed.”
Cerberus watched the last team member exit his office. He swiveled in his chair to face the portrait of his mother, Echidna, a beautiful but intolerant female with dark, lush hair sweeping over one shoulder. Her erect posture was elegant, set off by a gold brocade gown befitting her station as a powerful, desirous witch married to a respected warlock who sold spells for great coin. Her nose was aquiline, eyes cold but intelligent, lips tinted crimson, chin imperious, neck a graceful arch decorated with a stunning emerald necklace. Every inch of his dam looked the harsh taskmistress.
Many was the night he spent alone in the dark without dinner, wounded by the whip because he failed to live up to his mother’s expectations. In solitude and pain, he learned. He excelled.
Today, the great grandson of Niviane and the legendary Cambion, two creators of the three realms, no longer wore a mask. He had unveiled his true identity. He was Seraphine’s grandson. Echidna’s son, the male who would reunite the world. The warlock destined to rule.
Now, he awaited the activation of the Blood Coven offspring imprisoned in his cells. When that happened, the prophecy would unfold.
Cerberus rose to stand before the portrait, his eyes fixed on his mother, his fingers stroking the ornate gilt frame.
