Half-breed’s Bargain by Samantha Wolfe
3
VAN
I exit the limo, then turn to take Móira’s extended hand and help her out of the vehicle, thankful for her gloved hand so I don’t have to touch her skin. I’d let her struggle out of the limo if I dared to do so, but it wouldn’t be worth the trouble it would cause me later. She can be very vindictive when she gets it in her head to take offense to something, even if it’s minor. It’s best to play along so I can get this over with and get back to my own life. What little of it is still mine, anyway.
She looks ridiculous as usual in her 1950s clothing, not to mention her red dress and jacket are wool and it’s mid May. It’s as if someone once told her she looked like Ava Gardner, and she changed her entire wardrobe because of it.
She frowns at me as I close the car door. “Evandro,” she says in a condescending tone that sets my nerves on edge. “Do try to smile. First impressions are important.”
I scowl at her, convinced she only brought me along tonight to lord her power over me and humiliate me. I’m the CEO of my own fucking company, and here I am, relegated to being a bodyguard on this fae woman’s whim. Her amused and infuriating smile convinces me I’m right. I button my suit coat and clench my teeth together to keep from spewing out a few choice phrases in Spanish as she strides past me toward the alley that runs along the side of the seedy-looking night club we pulled up in front of a few moments ago. I follow her like the good little puppet I am and sweep my gaze around the area for any threats. My life would be easier if someone took Móira out, but it’s not that simple or I’d have done it myself a long time ago. My life is tied to hers in more ways than just blood, and I can’t risk letting anything happen to her for fear of what it would do to me.
The alley is clean for this part of town, and the only things in sight are a large dumpster and a black Ninja sport bike parked near the side door we’re approaching. I breathe in and don’t detect anyone nearby, just the stench of garbage and the lingering scent of gasoline and engine oil coming off the motorcycle. I unleash my magical senses, but besides the beacon of brilliant energy emanating from Móira herself, I only feel the powerful warding that surrounds the building.
I nod to her as we approach the door and she steps forward to rap on its surface with her gloved knuckles, her nose wrinkling in distaste. The door is steel and repellent to her, like anything with iron in it is to a full-blooded fae. Hence the black leather gloves she almost always wears outside of her mansion. Thankfully, my mixed blood spares me from that vulnerability, among others.
A few moments pass before the door creaks open to reveal our host, Anson Hale, head of the Unity Coven’s mage council. In days gone by, he would’ve been called the coven’s Grandmaster, but modern times have made some older and more dictatorial sounding titles obsolete, especially given the more democratic way his coven runs things. The Unity Coven is one of the four major supernatural groups that live in the city, along with the fae, the vampires, and the werewolves.
Hale is maybe an inch or two shy of my six-foot-two height, with a similar muscular build, dark shoulder length curls, and intense blue eyes. I can feel his inert magic emanating from him in pulsing waves. He’s strong, which is fitting given his position of power in the coven, as well as his confident and calm demeanor. He’s dressed in a simple T-shirt and jeans, and it only increases my annoyance with this meeting and Móira’s insistence that I wear one of my best suits for it.
“Welcome, Miss Grey,” Hale says with a polite smile, knowing better than to use Móira’s title in a public setting.
Móira tilts her head toward him in greeting. “Thank you for accepting this meeting with me, Mr. Hale.”
I feel eyes on me at the same time as I catch the scent of someone else, a fresh and oddly mesmerizing mix of jasmine and orange. I flick my gaze to the darkness just over Hale’s shoulder. My heart stutters in my chest as I meet an arresting pair of crystal blue eyes attached to the most strikingly beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. Dios mío, she’s breathtaking, and I lose track of everything Hale and Móira are saying as I take her in.
She smells and looks human, but there’s something unworldly about her appearance. Her face is flawless, with dark dramatic eyebrows that highlight big expressive eyes. She has high cheekbones and full pink lips that grace a mouth made to be kissed, and fuck if I don’t want to be the one doing it. Her glowing ivory skin looks soft and supple, and I long to touch her and find out for myself. She has her glorious golden blond hair pulled up into a long ponytail that trails down over one shoulder, and I ache to wrap it around my hand and pull her to me. A black halter top shows off her strong yet still feminine shoulders and arms, and skintight black leather pants hug and define the curves of her hips and long athletic legs. Móira’s voice somehow pulls me out of my fascinated stupor at that point.
“I’d like to introduce you to my associate, Evandro Cabrera,” she says as she waves a negligent hand in my direction.
I step forward to shake Hales hand, only pulling my gaze away from the blond woman for a moment, until he waves her out of the darkness. “This is Harlow Walsh.”
Oh, how I like the sound of her somehow familiar name, and I barely keep myself from shoving Móira out of the way to get to her first. It takes every ounce of control I have as I watch her shake the woman’s hand. Then I reach out with my hand, eager to touch her, and almost groan in relief as I enfold my fingers around her palm. The touch of her skin on mine sends a near electric jolt of heat through my entire body. I stare deep into her eyes and breathe her in again, and it’s still just as captivating to me as it was the first time. But this time it’s laced with the musky scent of her arousal, and an almost painful surge of lust shoots through my entire body, hardening my cock in an instant.
“Please, call me Van,” I say as I suppress a shiver, my voice gruffer than normal.
I want this woman with every fiber of my being and an animalistic and possessive fury like I’ve never experienced before, comes over me. I want to snarl at Hale for standing so close to what’s mine. I’ve never felt like this over a woman before in all my life, and I still when I realize what it means. It can’t and shouldn’t be possible since I’m half fae, but somehow my dormant werewolf half has been awoken by the last thing I wanted or ever expected to find, a mate. It’s also the last thing I can afford to happen for Harlow’s safety, even more so than mine. I won’t give my mother any more ammunition to use against me. It could end very badly for this woman, and I won’t let my affiliation with Móira hurt someone important to me ever again. The only reason Mercer and Ethan are safe from my mother is because she thinks I’m using them like she been using me for most of my life. She can’t even comprehend someone sticking around out of genuine loyalty instead of being coerced into it.
I yank my gaze away from Harlow before Móira notices my interest and school my features into a blank mask. I just need to make it through this meeting, and then I’ll make sure I never set eyes on her again. I can’t be tempted by something that’s not around.
Hale invites us inside and waves a hand to disrupt the warding on the building long enough for us to enter. I walk inside ahead of Móira and follow in Harlow’s wake, her clean intoxicating scent washing over me as I admire all that bare skin exposed by the open back of her top. An urge to run my tongue up her spine and nip at the silky skin on the side of her slender neck has me stifling a shudder. I need to shut that line of thinking down or I’ll give my interest away to Móira.
We trail Hale into his office, a large brick walled affair with an old school steel desk on the far end of the room and a sitting area to the right with two black leather sofas and a glass coffee table between them. Hale motions toward one sofa, then waits for Móira to take a seat first before he sits down across from her on the other. I hover nearby, partly to protect Móira, but also to keep some distance between Harlow and me. Not that it matters since her delectable scent is still filling nose with every breath, heightening my attraction to her. I’m grateful neither Hale nor Móira can scent our arousal as it perfumes the surrounding air.
Harlow leans against the brick wall next to the sofa Hale is sitting on with her arms crossed and her eyes darting around the room, looking at everything but me. Does she know what we are to each other? Does she not want it anymore than I do? I hope so. I don’t want her to come looking for me after tonight and think we have any kind of future together. We can’t, and not just because of my mother. My life just isn’t compatible with a happily ever after, even if Móira didn’t already own it.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Hale asks, aware of how much stock the fae put in being hosted properly. Not offering one would be considered rude.
“A scotch, please,” Móira answers as she pulls her gloves off.
Hale looks at Harlow and she nods before moving off to a small wet bar in the corner. She grabs a bottle and pours a few fingers of amber liquid into two glasses, then walks back over and sets them on the coffee table. Móira daintily picks up her glass and lifts it to her lips to take a small sip, then sets it down with the tiniest of grimaces. I almost snort in disgust at her. Did she expect Hale to keep five-figure bottles of scotch around like she does? Even I don’t indulge in such frivolities. I’d rather donate it to charity instead. At least that eases some of the guilt stamped all over my soul for all the wretched things I’ve done for her over the years.
I hear a snort and look up to find Harlow giving Móira a disdainful glare. Apparently, she noticed the fae woman’s reaction to the scotch too. Luckily, my mother ignores it and addresses Hale as he sips his own scotch.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I wished to meet with you tonight,” she says.
Hale grins over his glass with a flinty edge to his gaze. “Well, I know it wasn’t to drink my sub-par scotch.”
Well, kudos to Anson Hale. I like him even better now for calling my mother out on her poor manners. There’s far more to him than meets the eyes, just like the rumors I’ve heard. Despite his easygoing demeanor, he’s cunning and shrewd, and far more observant than most give him credit for. I guess there’s a reason the Unity Coven voted him in as their leader. Fortunately for him, most fae relish a good verbal sparing match. My mother is no exception and tilts her head back to let out a melodious peal of laughter at Hale’s comment, taking no offense.
“I suppose not,” she says with a smile that fades as she continues. “It’s come to attention that someone is planning on violating the Unity Treaty.”
Hale’s eyes widen in surprise, as do mine and Harlow’s. The four big power players in the city have been co-existing in relative peace for a while now, minus a few exceptions that were dealt with, thanks to the treaty. But it’s only as good as the participants’ willingness to follow it.
“Who?” Hale asks as he sits up and places his drink on the table, his interest piqued.
“Lynch,” she answers, and Hale and Harlow both scowl at the name.
I don’t blame them for their reaction. Randall Lynch is the master of Unity’s vampire brood and all around power-hungry bastard. I’m not shocked he’s planning to violate the treaty. I’m just surprised it took him this long to do it. The treaty he plans to break was made almost six years ago by the mages, the fae, the werewolves, and the vampires, after one of Lynch’s vamps went against vampire law and attempted to create his own brood to supplant Lynch as master. In the process, he murdered multiple humans, and also attacked and almost killed Anson’s sister. An all out war threatened to break out between the Unity Coven and Lynch’s brood and would surely have sucked the fae and werewolves into it too. The treaty stopped a city wide bloodbath and brought a hired assassin in to cull all the rogue vampires involved as part of the agreement, but obviously Hale is still sore about it since his sister was involved.
“Do you know what that piece of shit has planned?” Hale asks, his eyes hard and his mouth a grim line.
“I don’t,” Móira replies. “My source only reports rumors and whispers of a coup, but isn’t in any position to dig any deeper without the risk of violating the treaty. ”
From that statement, I gather her source is a fae spy under her employ that can’t act directly to find out more thanks to the constraints of the treaty. The fae consider any kind of bargain as sacrosanct and would never willingly violate one, especially if it’s invoked with magic. I’ve heard it would cost them their magic and maybe even their lives if they did. I’ve never heard of it happening, but that could be because none of them were foolish enough to break a magically invoked contract. I certainly wouldn’t test that theory myself. Of course, that never stopped them from exploiting any loopholes they find to get around one without actually breaking it. The fae are well-known for their cunningness, after all.
Hale scowls. “Well, that’s helpful,” he says, his tone annoyed. “I can’t look into it anymore than you can, so what’s the point of this meeting?”
Móira leans forward, her eyes fixed on Hale with near maniacal glee. “The point is that if we can find proof of Lynch’s duplicity, then his life is forfeit. Then we both get what we want. No more Randall Lynch.”
Hale lets out an exasperated sigh. “And again I say, I can’t look into it,” -he tilts his head toward Móira- “and neither can you.”
“True,” she replies with a wry twist of her red lips. “But what if we send in someone with no formal affiliation to either of us?”
A sick feeling arises in my stomach at her words.
“I’m listening,” Hale says with an arched brow.
She waves a negligent hand toward me. “Evandro here is a half-breed.” Her lips curl in unmistakable disdain, even though she’s the reason I even exist. “He has no official affiliation with me or any of my subjects and is more than capable of the job.”
My heart drops like a stone in my chest and feels like it falls clear down into the floor beneath my feet. This is the real reason she wanted me here. Humiliating me was just a fucking bonus for her.
Hale frowns. “You can’t expect me to trust someone I don’t know for this and who is clearly one of yours, even if it’s not official.” He uses finger quotes to emphasize that last word.
She nods. “I thought you might say that, so I propose that you pick an outsider of your own to work with Evandro and represent the mage council’s interests in this matter.” Her eyes flick over to Harlow. “And since the fewer who know about this the better, I suggest you choose Miss Walsh, who I understand is just as suited for the job as Evandro.”
I look at Harlow, who’s staring back at me with wide eyes and a panicked expression that I’m sure looks a lot like mine. Now I’m convinced she knows exactly what’s happening between us and doesn’t want it anymore than I do. But it doesn’t matter what either of us wants or doesn’t want. She knows it. I know it. We’re both fucked.