21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

A runner arrived at the warehouse, requesting Aya and Alexios's attendance for a council meeting. It was one of Nora's syrens, a young woman who handed the letter over with shaky hands. As the door closed, leaving her staring at the wood, Aya wondered if she was from the order or if she simply worked at the club. She pondered it a little further as she returned upstairs, seeking the larger room with the crackling fire.

As she sunk in one of the deep armchairs, she tore open the letter and dissected the contents.

Her brow slipped into a deep frown, and she set it aside, Alexios sauntered in with Tobias.

"Ah, you received the message," Alexios said as she dropped down in front of her. "Loraina wanted to summon a meeting."

"It's too soon." Her gaze slid to the flames, wondering what the hell had happened, and hoping that fate wasn't being a bastard again. "Something must've happened but what?"

Alexios shrugged. "None of my own kind have reported anything."

She didn't want to point out that there was a great deal that had escaped both of their attentions, and that neither of them had any idea of who the mysterious threat on the council was.

"I should go." She glanced at him. "What about you?"

"I would rather gouge my own eyes out than attend," Alexios muttered; he released a long-suffering sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. "But at least this offers a distraction from my current predicament."

"No luck on someone to take on your illustrious mantle?"

"I think given current circumstances; few want to deal with the very real threat against our very existence." Alexios rose with a groan. "I just wanted to see if you had received the message."

"And to make sure I would join you?"

He paused at the door, flashing her a feral grin in the firelight. "I'm not going to suffer alone. Where is the fun in that?"

Aya glowered at the council hall, basking in the midday light. Buttery sunlight danced over polished alabaster, glinting in the flecks of silver and gold in the pillars. Her stomach twisted into knots, cramping until she nearly doubled over and emptied her last meal onto the stones. She was tempted. It'd be an improvement, in her honest opinion, on the gaudy display. But she also had little interest in offering fodder to Alexios.

More than she was already providing by staring at the building, arms folded across her chest.

"If you stare at it any harder, the building will catch fire." Alexios chuckled. "But if that happens, then I won't have to attend the meeting."

"Fuck off and die."

She followed him through the main hall and down the labyrinth of hallways until they reached the towering doors of the meeting chamber. Loraina awaited them, pacing back and forth. Her hands were clasped firmly behind her back, fingers interlocked. Little attention was given to them, even as they came to a stop. Alexios started to reach out.

Loraina stopped sharply, her breath hitching as she took them in. "You both came."

"You didn't think we would?"

One of Loraina's brows shot up.

Aya smiled, teeth flashing, as she pushed the doors open. Inside, Ryker was already in attendance, idly inspecting a pocket watch. He snapped it shut as she approached, eyeing her warily. Tension ratcheted through his limbs. Aya resisted a frown, not liking the air that hung about the alpha. Her dread deepened.

It crawled over her skin, burrowing until it wrapped around her bones. She bit back a shiver and picked her chair at the end of the table. It was the furthest one away, though to her frustration, Alexios dropped down beside her.

"Can't let you be the only one to brood here," Alexios murmured under his breath.

"You're ruining all my fun."

"Ah, now you have seen through all my ambitions."

"My eternal torment?"

"Naturally."

She shot him a peevish look. "Isn't your mate the one you're meant to be tormenting?"

Alexios leaned back in his chair. "Somehow, I don't think you want me to describe in detail how I plan to torment my mate. Not after you squirmed and snarled after my latest—"

"Say another word and I will rip off your right hand."

His mouth opened when the door opened again. Loraina glided in but, to Aya's surprise, she was not alone. A young man followed behind. He towered over her, which was an impressive feat against the tall banshee, moving effortlessly to the chair beside her. Aya scented no magic about him, but something tugged at her gut, a whisper of death brushing against the nape of her neck. She studied him closely, marking the curly blonde hair, pale face, and strong, sharp-featured face. Blue eyes slid across the room with a lazy sort of interest, as if he had somewhere better to be, and this meeting was barely worth his time.

Hell, the indifference rolling off him gave Aya a run for her money.

She wanted to run a knife through his neck.

Even as he sat down, he studied Ryker for a moment, then Alexios, before his attention settled on her. Those piercing depths locked with hers, attempting to cleave through her defenses. Aya offered a predatory smile, the kind that sent most folks running for the hills. His gaze lifted to her wings, narrowed for a split second, before returning back. But she didn't miss the gleam of interest in his eyes.

There was something about him she swore was familiar, and yet so strange that left her on edge. In her ear, she swore she heard Elaine whispering for her to remain calm, and that she could flip the damn male off.

Loraina remained standing as she smoothed down her skirt, as if by instinct, and levelled her gaze across the room. "We are waiting—"

The door opened for a final time before Ingrid hurried inside. The syren appeared frazzled, her hair threatening to spill free of the braid down her back. She dressed simply in a gossamer blue dress, shapely against her willowy frame. She quickly took her seat, murmuring her apologies for being late.

"You aren't late," Loraina assured her.

Ingrid smiled but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Oh, well, that's good."

A beat of silence passed before Loraina joined them and cleared her throat. "I know this meeting is a little short notice, but I wished to have all members in attendance on such an important occasion. The humans have chosen their representative. Might I introduce Orion Fellwood?"

The man rose from his chair and bowed, smooth in his movements.

It was a little too refined, Aya thought, reminding her of some of the nobles she'd met and Calix. An air practiced every day from the moment one walked, burned into their very being until there was no doubt as to what they were.

She tilted her head, studying him a little closer. He was dressed finely, a tidy black tunic with emerald green embroidery. Even the leather gloves on his hands were well-made, shining and barely worn. The pendant around his neck was of a golden chain, the amulet half-concealed beneath his collar. What little she saw resembled a circle-shaped object with a red gem inside.

The man reeked of money.

"Tell us about yourself," Aya said with a silken voice.

Loraina stiffened, as if she were surprised by Aya's interest, but sensing this was, indeed, a question shared by other members, let it happen. Aya didn't miss the way Loraina flashed the tiniest of nods toward the male, as if giving him permission to speak. Perhaps she was angling for the support of the humans. The banshees had never shown much interest—to her knowledge at least—to human representatives before; then again, their circumstances had never been so dire.

Orion smiled across the table, as if the smug bastard was enjoying all attention on him, and that he was somehow pulling Aya under his spell.

Fool.

Her hand itched to reach for the dagger strapped to her thigh.

"I will confess, I was not born in this land," he began with a chuckle. "I came to Purgatory as a young boy and lived for a time in the refuges before I was taken under the wing of the woman who raised me, someone who for all intents and purposes, was my mother. From there, I lived among the families who held the position of council member for my people. I studied under them, learned how I might serve my people in Purgatory."

"How noble of you," Aya drawled. "So, you might consider yourself groomed for this power?"

His smile didn't even crack as he answered. "Well, I must confess that I hadn't imagined taking on the role so soon. Marisol had spoken to me of it before, but I think both of us hoped it might be in many years."

Aya leaned back, letting his words settle in the room. It was a curious thing to admit that you had worked with an enemy of Purgatory, but she supposed there was an angle behind it. Defiance, perhaps? A bold display she might've admired, were it not so careless. The end result was undoubtedly effective, an unsettled council.

She allowed her own feral, wicked grin to widen. "I suppose neither of you anticipated me killing her."

"Aya." Loraina's warning cut like a blade through the thickened air.

"Yes, Loraina?"

She watched with delight as Loraina wrangled to control her temper, managing to pinch the bridge of her nose. A sharp breath hitched over her lips. Aya's smile remained. She wasn't blind to Loraina having some sort of alliance with the human, but her reaction—if not an act—indicated that she'd hoped, perhaps naively, Aya might be okay with it. Hell, a sharp look from the banshee to the human whispered that his own admission wasn't part of the introduction.

"Is there anything else pressing for this meeting to cover or might I be excused?" Aya drawled. "Fate of Purgatory hanging in the balance, remember?"

Ryker snorted. "I don't think anyone has forgotten that. Have you or your kin made any steps toward a solution?"

"It's a work in progress," she said vaguely with a wave of her hand.

"And the meeting with the new Grand Matron?" Ryker levelled her an arch look. "Has that borne any fruit?"

She concealed her surprise behind a shrug. "Not sure what to make of her. She's just as tricky as Honoria."

Though she wasn't about to admit to trusting the woman, she had a better instinct about her than she ever had about Honoria. And it wasn't just Aya's relationship with Elaine softening her opinion of witches. She knew the look of a woman focused on the protection of her people and only that. Honoria always had the stink of ambition and greed, and Tarla was a far cry from that.

"And did the lovely Grand Matron announce when she might join us?"

"I don't know, didn't ask. Felt there were more important issues over this little group."

Orion snorted, drawing her attention. The smug fucking grin remained fixed as he leaned forward, reminding her of the arrogant princes from the stories her mother told her.

"Such contempt for a group whose alliance you need," he crooned.

Aya's brow lifted imperceptibly. "Such arrogance to someone who killed your predecessor."

"Yes, yes, you're a killer. Very scary."

The room darkened in an instant. Shadows flooded in around the table. The lantern overhead sputtered overhead, flickering precariously, threatening to plunge the room into complete darkness at any moment. And that very dark, so cold and menacing, full of ancient whispers and magic, prickled in the air. It eddied around Aya, gossamer ribbons of black spilling from her skin and danced across the tops of her wings. She stared back, unflinching, unyielding, with eyes like pools of death.

"Correction—I'm a fucking monster."

Orion flinched.