Elder Bonds Page 12

  “Maybe.” Balthazar turned to pick up his drink. “They’re currently daring the redhead to approach us.”

  “Curvy?”

  “Totally Jay’s type, yup.”

  Luc sighed. “I’d send Jacque to retrieve him, but we both know the teleporter won’t leave my side.”

  “Said teleporter can hear you too, and you’re right.” The floppy-haired Hydraian spun on his stool as though to add to his proclamation of attendance. “I’ll take the redhead, though.”

  “I think the little brunette is more your speed,” Balthazar murmured. “She thinks you’re cute.”

  Jacque stopped spinning, his silver-gray eyes widening. “She does?”

  “Why is he shocked?” Luc asked conversationally. “It’s not like he’s bad-looking. He’s lean, but athletic. Women like that.”

  “It’s a confidence thing with us here,” Balthazar replied. “He feels overwhelmed by our presence.”

  “I can still hear you,” the teleporter pointed out. “And stop reading my mind.”

  “He’s not sure his sexual ‘prowess’—his term—is up to par either,” Balthazar continued as if Jacque hadn’t spoken. “Which is why I recommended the brunette. She doesn’t need a night of fun, just an hour or two.”

  Luc nodded. “Good thinking.”

  “I hate both of you,” Jacque muttered.

  Balthazar took another sip before setting his drink down. “But what he really wants to do is observe one of us in action to learn, which I’m happy to take on so long as he promises not to write notes like he’s thinking of doing.”

  “I’m not—”

  “That would be a buzzkill,” Luc agreed, cutting off the teleporter. “But also explains why he requires a lesson.”

  Balthazar smirked. “Oh, there are many more reasons for that, including his young age and shy demeanor. Even now, he’s uncertain about the brunette despite my confirming her mutual attraction. We’ll have to work on him.”

  “I’m going to teleport you both to the ocean and watch you drown,” Jacque growled, causing Luc to chuckle.

  “I think you’ve upset him, B,” he murmured, understanding the game.

  “Have I?” B finally looked at the teleporter. “I’m sorry. I merely meant to explain the situation fully. Unless you’d like to prove me wrong?”

  “Oh, he can’t do that. He’s too intimidated, right? We might outshine him.” Luc gazed pityingly at his favorite Guardian. “Do you want me to demonstrate while you take notes? Mentally, of course. I can’t have you scribbling things down. It’s distracting.”

  Fury and annoyance glared back at him. “I do not require a lesson. I know how to seduce and fuck a woman.”

  Luc feigned surprise. “Do you?”

  “Oh my God.” He hopped off the stool. “Brunette, right?”

  “With the glasses,” Balthazar added helpfully. “Her name is Rosie, and she enjoys intellectual conversation. Turns her on.”

  Jacque rolled his eyes. “I can do this without the tips.”

  “Sure,” Luc replied, rotating to face the crowd so he could better observe. “Show us.”

  “Fine.” Jacque stalked off with a confident stride toward the group of women.

  “How long until he realizes we set him up as bait?” Luc asked.

  Balthazar leaned against the bar with one elbow, his body partially angled toward Jacque, but mostly facing Luc. “With how riled up he is? Probably not until after he’s taken Rosie to bed, and even then, he might not get it.”

  Luc chuckled. “Clever. He deserves the female company.”

  “Yes. He does.” Balthazar fell silent, an indication that he was busy reading minds. Luc didn’t need to be able to hear the females to see their interest. It was written all over their bodies with the way they angled themselves toward Jacque while he spoke.

  “Should we leave him to all five?” Luc wondered. There were several other women in the bar whom they could pick up.

  “I don’t know if he can handle them all.” Balthazar folded his arms, his chocolate gaze thoughtful. “Perhaps one of us should join while the other takes the trio at the back?”

  Luc glanced at the three women in question. They were eyeing them with obvious interest. “That looks promising.”

  “Oh, the blonde is thinking all sorts of kinky thoughts about what you can do with your mouth.”

  “Is she now?” Luc grinned at the woman in question and winked.

  “And…” He trailed off. “It’s Tristan.”

  Luc looked back at him, confused until he spied the phone in his hand. “Ah.”

  It was quiet enough in the bar for Balthazar to answer. “How’s my favorite Ichorian?” he asked.

  Luc smirked. Balthazar favored the Ichorian because of his proclivity for mischief. He gave Issac—his maker—absolute hell sometimes, despite being the man’s best friend.

  Luc’s focus returned to the trio, his mind analyzing all the ways he could pleasure them at the same time. His gift would be helpful, if he chose to use it. Sometimes he preferred the skill of his hands and mouth, which the blonde seemed to be studying intently.

  What an easy game. Almost boring, really. The pleasure was nice—enjoyable, even—but sometimes it just felt empty. “Don’t comment,” Luc said, knowing full well Balthazar could hear him. He grinned over his shoulder at the mind reader, and the amusement froze on his face.

  Balthazar had gone pale.

  His best friend never paled.

  Luc stood. “What is it?” he asked.

  The phone was still to Balthazar’s ear, and he seemed to be growing paler by the second. “We’re on our way, Tristan,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. He slid the device into his pocket with shaking hands. “We need to go to the Hamptons. Now.” He started toward Jacque, who met them halfway having already sensed the tension.

  “What’s wrong?” the teleporter asked.

  “I…” Balthazar visibly trembled. “Take us to Wakefield Manor.”

  Jacque met Luc’s stare and cocked a brow. “Now? Here?”

  Luc didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” Something had happened that was horrible enough to render Balthazar, of all people, speechless. And were those tears in his eyes? “Right now.”

  “Okay.” Jacque grabbed them both by the wrist, and the world whirled around them. Luc had experienced teleportation a thousand times, yet he always felt dizzy afterward—a side effect of the tunnel sensation. He ran his fingers through his windswept hair while catching his balance in the foyer of Amelia and Eli’s home.

  Mateo stood waiting for them, his dark blond head bent over an electronic device. When he glanced upward, his blue irises radiated pain.

  “What’s happened?” Luc demanded.

  The technologically savvy Ichorian cleared his throat. “I thought Tristan—”

  “Ballroom,” Balthazar choked out. “They’re in the ballroom.” He fell to his knees, his hand to his chest.

  Luc fell beside him. “Talk to me, B.”

  “Can’t,” he whispered, his face ashen as he lowered his head to the ground.

  Fuck. He couldn’t leave Balthazar like this. What the fuck is happening?

  Then it hit him square in the heart as his own gift registered. Not his intelligence, but the one that allowed him to increase sensations—both good and bad.

  Unspeakable pain, Luc realized. It had overwhelmed his oldest friend, so much so that he seemed to be having trouble breathing. He tried to identify the source of it and realized that everyone in the manor was experiencing it.

  Eli, his instincts whispered.

  No. The Hydraian was too powerful, too old, and there would be signs of something, right? A fight? Blood splatter?

  He searched the room and found both Mateo and Jacque staring at him with concerned expressions.

  A leader never shows weakness or fear. He cleared his throat.

  For Eli…

  Luc blinked away his thoughts as he stood and focused on Jacque. “
I need you to go grab Alik and Jayson.” Because if what he suspected was true, he needed his Elders.

  “Y-yes, sir.” The teleporter vanished.

  And Balthazar…Leaving him like this…He swallowed. His mind reader needed a moment to collect his thoughts. Luc could grant him that while he determined what happened here.

  Eli, his instincts whispered again. Which can only mean…

  No. Not yet. He didn’t know anything yet.

  “I’ll be right back, B,” he promised.

  Balthazar gave no sign of hearing him.

  Luc hadn’t seen him this upset in centuries—no, millennia.

  It has to be Eli…and Amelia. It was the only explanation. “They’re in the ballroom,” Balthazar had said.

  With a forced swallow, Luc headed toward the dreaded room. The moon lit his path through the oversized windows. No other lights were on, something that was distinctly ominous.

  Tristan stood just outside the double doors at the end of the long hallway, his green irises thinned around dilated pupils. If the Ichorian looked like this, then—

  “It’s bad, Luc,” he whispered, his expression paler than Luc had ever seen it. “They left his head on the floor and her ashes in a vase on his lap.”

  Luc’s heart stopped beating.

  It’s true.

  He hadn’t wanted to believe his instincts, had refused to acknowledge them until he had proof, and now it sat staring him in the face. Literally. From the center of the room beyond Tristan.

  He grabbed the wall beside him for support, his lungs forgetting how to function.

  Eli and Amelia.

  Dead.

  Irrevocably.

  The world spun around him even as his mind began running through scenarios. Eli was a warrior who lived several thousand years. To get through his defenses should have been impossible.

  And yet the evidence spoke for itself. In the form of a headless body sitting in a chair. Issac knelt beside it, his head bowed over what Luc assumed were Amelia’s remains.

  Our sister.

  My brother.

  This can’t be happening.

  “What can I do?” Tristan asked, his voice shaking.

  Luc met the Ichorian’s tortured gaze. He appeared so young in that moment, so helpless.

  And he was asking Luc for direction, as everyone always did.

  A leader bears the impossible and carries the burdens of his people. He is the one others look to for guidance, the rock under which his people hide, and the glue that holds a society together.

  He wasn’t allowed to feel. Not openly. Not when his people relied on him to provide direction. These were the moments that mattered most. His leadership was never more important than it was right now.

  Luc swallowed the emotion threatening to overcome him. He could break after he took care of those who relied on him. In the comfort of his home, where no one would know.

  He needed to think. To catalog every detail. To focus.

  “Alik and Jayson are coming. I may need your help when they arrive,” Luc said. “Can I rely on you for that?” In his experience, assigning tasks helped in these situations. Everyone craved a distraction, a purpose, something to help them feel better even if it was moot or temporary.

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “Thank you,” Luc replied, meaning it. “I need a moment to study the scene.”

  Tristan nodded.

  Luc gathered his resolve and forced his feet to move him into the room. His chest ached as he took in the dark hair and bloody mess on the floor beside Eli’s body. Whoever had killed him wanted to make sure the method stuck, hence the beheading. His old friend would never wake again.

  His hands fisted at his sides, his blood heating and cooling at the same time.

  How had someone bested Eli? Especially in the presence of Amelia—Luc had never known a more protective male over his female.

  It didn’t make any sense.

  Focus, his mind demanded. See the big picture.

  But he couldn’t. There were too many emotions…too many memories…and Issac. Oh, fuck, Issac. He hadn’t moved or even acknowledged Luc; he just sat there with his hands covered in ash.

  Their sister’s remains, or so he assumed. A step closer confirmed it, for resting in Issac’s palm was Amelia’s ring. The Ichorian seemed entranced by it. His gaze unflinching as he stared at the massive diamond everyone would recognize.

  A permanent death. An unnecessary cruelty. To burn to death was a fate Luc refused to imagine.

  My darling sister…

  Don’t.

  Not now.

  He shut his eyes, just for a moment. One single second. And breathed slowly through his nose.

  Everyone is counting on you. Figure this out. Analyze. Redirect your focus.

  He could do this.

  He had to do this. The others would be here soon, and they would require direction from him, a plan, information, something.

  There was no other choice.

  “I’m here,” Luc whispered to Issac. “We’re going to get through this.”

  “Are we?” Issac asked, his tone lacking life and emotion.

  He’s shutting himself off.

  A practical response to the pain. A necessary one.

  “Yes,” Luc assured him as he cataloged the rest of the room—the exposed floor-to-ceiling windows allowing the moon to cast an eerie glow over the crimson scene and the two mortals cowering in a corner.

  The house staff, he recognized as he returned his gaze to Eli’s body in what appeared to be a patio chair. They must have found him.

  Keep going, his strategic gift urged. Assessing the scene, while gruesome, helped alleviate the pain. Helped him focus.

  The Conclave did this. It had their handiwork written all over it, especially the incineration of Amelia’s body. They meant to send a message. After centuries of perceived peace, the Ichorians wished to inspire another war. That was the only logical reason for going after an Elder—one they knew mattered to the Hydraians—in the comfort of his own home. Yes, they were close to the Ichorian boundary here, but they weren’t inside of it.

  And yet, it technically broke no laws. Only Hydria and New York City were considered safe zones. There was also an unspoken rule about touching high-ranking officers on either side. It was the primary reason Alik had yet to go after Lucinda—Osiris valued her immensely. They all knew if she died, it would stir resentment and provoke a violent response. Just as everyone recognized that touching an Elder would do the same.

  Issac gazed up at him then, his midnight-blue eyes vacant. “She’s gone, Lucian. Amelia—”

  “What the fuck is going on?” Jayson demanded as he jogged into the room. One look at the massacre before him froze him midstep, causing Alik to bump into him from behind. “Oh, fuck.” He fell to his knees in the same way Balthazar had. “Eli?”

  Alik stepped around him, his dark eyes brewing with malice. “Who? How?”

  Luc wished he could answer that, but right now he only had one guess and he knew it wasn’t good enough. “The Conclave’s motives are written all over this, but I’m not certain yet.” He looked at the humans. Robert and Cherie, his memory provided. “I need every detail of what happened today.”

  Cherie shook against Robert’s chest while the male cleared his throat. “I, we”—he coughed to cover his choked-up voice—“our daughter had a recital. Amelia gave us the night off but left us a note saying to stop by the main house when we returned. Something about preparing extra food. And…and…Cherie went to pick it up, but…” He visibly shuddered as his wife clutched him harder.

  Issac stood, distracting Luc from further questioning. The ornate vase filled with Amelia’s ashes rested on the floor at their feet.

  “I need to check something” was all the Ichorian said as he left with a vacant expression. The only sign of his emotion lay in the palm of his hand where he still clutched Amelia’s ring.

  “Shit,” Jayson whispered brokenly. �
�Eli? I don’t understand.”

  “We need to review his surveillance system,” Alik growled. “See which of those fuckers managed to break in.”

  “It wasn’t on.” Mateo’s voice drifted in from the hallway. He must have followed everyone—including Jacque—toward the ballroom. The only one missing was Balthazar, and now Issac.

  I’ll be back soon, B. I promise. Luc hoped his oldest friend heard him. Leaving him in the foyer…Fuck. Luc hated all of this.

  Fuck!

  “What do you mean, ‘it wasn’t on’?” Alik faced the Ichorian with his hands fisted. “Eli always uses his security system. It’s why he doesn’t need Guardians.”

  “I checked it when we arrived, and everything was off, all the data erased.” Mateo sounded just as disgruntled as Alik. “I tried to fix it, but there’s nothing there.”

  Meaning whoever had done this, had done their homework. Could the Conclave know about the security system?

  Luc rubbed a hand over his face.

  Something wasn’t right. I’m missing a piece of the puzzle. But what?

  He frowned. “If the Conclave did this, then why were you all not involved in the decision? Has Osiris discovered your true allegiance?” The questions were directed at the two Ichorians in the room.

  Tristan snorted. “If that were true, we would be dead.”

  “He’s right. Osiris would have made an example of Issac and Aidan, but he’s called no such meeting or trial. The last Conclave meeting was nearly a decade ago.” Mateo stuffed his hands into the pockets of his tailored pants. “Osiris has known about Issac’s relationship with Amelia for centuries and has done nothing. Why would he act now?”

  That’s precisely what Luc wanted to know. It was no secret Issac and Aidan both had ties to Hydria and that neither seemed all that keen on harming their family members. Several of the Ichorians had family ties to the Hydraians, which complicated matters. It was part of the reason Aidan had been able to convince them all to form a treaty in 1747.

  The armistice, in essence, allowed everyone to coexist without conflict so long as certain guidelines were followed.

  Why act now?

  Luc studied Eli’s remains.

  Too quick.

  Osiris preferred decadence and grandiose affairs, not covert missions. Unless his goal was to provoke a war, but to what end?