Alive.
That had been the most egregious fault thus far. There had been no reason to leave that loose end. If Whestmorel wanted the male out because he was a weak link, then kill him. But no, the ego had always been more important to their supposed overlord. He’d known damn well the Brotherhood would soon enough take possession of thatmansion as the treasonous plot had come to fruition, and he’d been determined to provide them with proof of his cruelty, proof of his aggression… that he could torture someone to within an inch of death and walk away. Of course, he’d taken for granted that Jenshen would expire before he was discovered, but who could know whether that actually had occurred.
And what a loose end.
Following that? This move out here to this glass house on the shores of Lake George. They needed to be underground in a bunker, not drinking bourbon and staring out over the view like there was any kind of imperial horizon to contemplate. There was not anythingto regard. Yet. There was nothing but plans and work, and the reach-out to the Omega’s son.
Which had clearly not gone well.
Not that there were any details.
So now they were here, with Whestmorel overcome with some kind of exhaustion, and no communication, no plan.
“How goes he?”
Conrahd sensed the remaining members of the inner consortium standing behind him, and in the silence, he weighed his options. He might be able to assume power now, if he killed Whestmorel by smothering him with a pillow. But his sense was that the coalition was failing, the gentlemales lined up behind him rightfully concerned that two of their ilk had been killed recently, especially last night.
This was getting far too bloody for their constitutions.
Their participation was required, however. Their money was needed, their support was paramount, their commitment the only way to make any of this plot work.
Though there were many others on the periphery, these were the core of the plot.
“He is just resting,” Conrahd lied. “The meeting went very well indeed, and the Omega’s son and he will be in touch promptly to coordinate the raid on the Audience House.”
There was a grumble that could have meant anything.
“We must bear up, fellows,” he said levelly. “We shall give him the day to rest, and come nightfall the next, all will be well.”
With any luck, Whestmorel would die of whatever ailed him and then the road would be clear to do this properly.
And if not? Then needs must and all that.
Conrahd pivoted around and smiled at his comrades. “Come, let us enjoy a bourbon by the fire.”
As he led them off to the study, he was certain they would follow him, for they wanted to be led out of this whole situation. Separated from their families, enemies of the King and the Black Dagger Brotherhood, they were in way over their heads and all they wanted was relief. So he would provide it to them—as he himself took solace in knowing that if Whestmorel did not die… Conrahd, unlike the others, was not above getting his hands dirty.
Very, very dirty.
“Worry not, gentlemales,” he said as he went over to Whestmorel’s display of rare, collectible bottles. “Everything is in hand.”
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Dev had always hated where he came from. Who his parents were. What they did, what they were doing, and what they would do in the future. He had recognized them by inches as he had grown up, his realization starting with the vicious little games they played with each other and then propagating properly to the dark magic that had surrounded all three of them, the evil that had seeped from their pores, the hatred they had shown the world and others.
In secret, he had developed his own powers.
And then when he’d felt like he was ready, when he was confident in his ability to mask himself in their presences, to hide in thin air, to disappear from their senses… he had gotten the fuck out.
There had been no big blowout, no coming to them hurt and in search of explanations he knew would just be lies to calm him down—and no looking back, either. In the aftermath? Just the dull, solitary life he had lived for so long, and been prepared to continue to endure, using only enough magic to make sure they never, ever could find him.
They would know he still existed, however. He was sure to leave just enough of a footprint so they were certain that he had chosen the estrangement—and was keeping it in place on purpose, not because he’d eradicated himself somehow.
Every day that dawned was a way to stick it to the pair of them. His existence, on the earth but not with them, was the payback they deserved, and he knew they were suffering. In their own fucked-up ways, they both loved him, and immortality being what it was, he was more than prepared to make them hurt for eternity.
Except then, one snowy night in Caldwell, New York, everything had changed.
And it was changing again now, as the blond female he had come to love in such a short time ceased to breathe.
