Chapter 18

Never in his long life had Midas ever been afraid of his mother, but there was a first time for everything.

"Tisdale," Richter rumbled, sliding his gaze down her body like a caress. "You're as lovely as ever."

The tone, and its implied familiarity, stood Midas's hackles on end, but he kept a leash on his temper.

"You two know each other?" Hadley glanced between them. "Small worlds."

Never taking her eyes off him, his mother enlightened Hadley. "Richter is Natisha's consort."

"I was Natisha's consort," he corrected her, tapping into famed reservoirs of charm. "I am no longer."

"We met when I summoned her the first time." The painful details of that bargain, she kept to herself. "I was younger then, and foolish, but not so ignorant of Faerie or scorned women to entertain his interest. It would have been an insult to my guest, whom I called to me across a great distance to ask for a favor."

A smile twitched in Midas's cheek, but he managed to keep it off his face.

As a mischievous and indulged child, he had received many tongue lashings from his mother. He hadn't appreciated her talent for verbal evisceration then, but he had grown to appreciate her way with words.

Especially when she aimed them at someone else.

"I would have left her for you, stayed with you," Richter countered. "You wouldn't have me."

"You watched my son suffer." A growl laced her words. "You let him be sold. How could I forgive that?"

Leaning in, Hadley pitched her voice low. "I kind of wish I had popcorn."

"Me too," Midas admitted just as softly. "Mom will disembowel him if he keeps it up much longer."

"Has Richter always been stupid? Or does he have a death wish?" She watched as his eyebrows climbed. "He tried to cheat on Natisha. She has a scorched-earth policy when it comes to men who do her wrong."

"I wasn't…" Midas struggled with how to phrase it, "…myself then. I don't remember much about him."

A brush of Hadley's fingers across his lips told him he didn't have to dig deeper for the answers.

"Since he's still alive," she mused, leaning into him, "Natisha must have never learned of his crush."

"Oh, Natisha knew." Richter proved his hearing was as excellent as any gwyllgi. "She beat me within an inch of my life. The only reason she didn't kill me outright was Ferro offered a boon to appease her."

"The concept of loyalty isn't totally foreign to you then," Tisdale said, drawing his attention back to her.

"Ferro and I are of an age. We grew up together. He is, and always will be, my friend."

"His mom was banging his best friend?" Hadley shuddered. "No wonder the guy has issues."

Age was elastic for fae in a way it wasn't yet for her, but he could agree the relationship was in poor taste.

"Why are you here?" Tisdale exhaled. "What do you want?"

"As I told your son," Richter said, pious, "he has defeated our alpha, and now we are his."

A barely imperceptible jerk was the only acknowledgment she allowed for his shocking revelation.

"Midas?" Her clear voice rang. "Do you wish to take control of this pack?"

"No."

"There you have it." Tisdale spread her hands. "He releases you to settle the matter among yourselves."

"We didn't come all this way to be turned on our heels." He sounded apologetic about it, but not like he would change a thing. "Ferro promised us a hunt, that the streets would run red with human blood, that our bellies would grow tight with man-flesh."

As Midas recalled, Richter was Ferro's beta, meaning he could quell a rebellion if he chose.

Yet he chose to leave his "friend" behind, broken, and come to this world with the others for sport.

"Ferro is no longer your alpha," Midas reminded him. "You're no longer bound by his whims."

"That is so," Richter agreed, "but you can't tempt a starving lion with a raw steak then jerk it back, or you might lose an arm."

The threat was clear, and Midas clenched his jaw to avoid going for Richter's throat.

"I have a task for you then." Hadley engaged Richter. "As your lady alpha, I can command you, yes?"

Amusement laced his features as he inclined his head in a mocking bow. "Of course, my lady."

"Help us bring down the coven." Her voice grew icicles. "Take out as many as you can."

Crimson glittered in his eyes, and he wet his lips. "As you command—"

"But touch one hair on the head of an innocent, and I will personally introduce you to mortality."

A feral pride swelled behind Midas's breastbone at her ruthlessness, the predator in him reveling in the strength of his mate.

"Your task will be done." Richter smiled wide, teeth on display. "With relish."

"And then you go home." She set her jaw. "Midas will kick your ass first, if that's what you need in order for your ego to be assuaged, but we want you out of our city."

"Let's not be too hasty." He called on his magic, crimson and bright. "I will report to you shortly."

A wave of power splashed over him and drained away to reveal the lean hunter we first met. He walked a circle around Tisdale, his tail wagging, then trotted off with a booming howl guaranteed to bring the rest of the Faerie pack running.

"What are you doing here?" Midas appraised his mother. "How did you find us?"

"Bishop texted me." She folded her arms over her chest. "Why didn't you?"

"The address wasn't mine to give." He firmed his stance. "The explanation isn't either."

"This was one of the OPA's HQ sites." Hadley came to his defense. "We don't give away that information to anyone. Bishop only contacted you after the Faerie pack located us. This location will be burned, and we'll open a new one in a secure location. There was no harm in sharing details after the fact."

"Ah." Tisdale nodded. "I understand."

Hunting songs pierced the night, warg and gwyllgi and lion, and their pack's own unique voice.

Midas noted the familiar scents of his mother's guards, but they were good at their jobs, and he couldn't spot them. "Do we still have control of the Faraday?"

"Barely." Her arms fell to her sides. "Do we know what the coven wants?"

"Revenge." Midas let his exhaustion show. "What else?"

As quick as he could, Midas filled his mother in on what they had learned from Natisha.

"I wish I could say I'm surprised, but I'm not." His mother pressed a hand to her lower stomach. "She took from me the ability to have more children. She wants our bloodline ended. This would ensure it dies right in front of her instead of during her lifetime."

Midas had no interest in children, and neither did Hadley. That might change, if what Ambrose had told them about their life expectancies was accurate. But for now, they were content with one another. She deserved more time to smooth the scars from her childhood before she made up her mind for certain, for always. If they decided to become parents, they wanted to do it right. The way his mother had raised him.

"Any idea how bloodline curses work?" Hadley exhaled hard. "It sounds pretty vague, as spells go."

"The power required to wipe out an entire bloodline on a whim is beyond even her. There is a cost." The lines bracketing her mouth told him she wasn't comforted by that fact. "It's likely she chose one sacrifice to represent each person she wants dead. She'll use the sacrifice's relationship to her as a conduit to her descendants, and their life force will act as fuel to power the spell."

"A life for a life six times over." Midas balled his fists. "You, Lethe, Eva, and me. Who else?"

"Spares, maybe?" Hadley checked with Tisdale. "Or more powerful targets might require extra oomph?"

"Makes sense," Midas agreed. "They might even be insurance if our bloodline connection is too weak."

"They'd be hard-pressed to do it without a full coven of thirteen." His mother noticed where her hand rested and lowered it. "Seven would have been risky."

"Natisha has access to six hearts," Midas reminded her, "not seven."

The burner phone rang in his pocket, and Midas handed it to Hadley after recognizing the number.

"Bish?" She scrunched up her face. "I can't hear you." She stuck a finger in her ear. "What?"

Midas exchanged a glance with his mother, and her expression turned grim.

"Natisha just exited the portal with half her coven," Hadley reported. "The Faraday will have to wait."

"How do we get there?" Midas checked with Hadley. "Did Bishop leave the keys here?"

Rapid-fire questions peppered the air, OPA business mixed in, and then she ended the call.

"He lost the Faerie pack downtown and is circling back. They probably peeled off when Richter called them, but I'll let Bishop keep thinking he was clever." She pocketed the phone. "He'll meet us at Ford's truck."

The three of them went to wait while Tisdale's bodyguards peeled off to scout the exits.

When Bishop arrived, Midas and Hadley gave his mother the bench seat then piled into the bed.

The oppressive silence and the moonless night left his feral half uneasy. Atlanta wasn't meant to be so quiet, so vacant. She was loud and vibrant, bold and chaotic. And…it looked like Hadley's viewpoint was rubbing off on him if he was starting to see the city as a person, or in possession of a personality.

Slanting his gaze down at her, he noticed her distraction. "What are you thinking?"

"How do we defeat Natisha?" Hadley rested her head on his shoulder. "Do you think Richter will help?"

As long as Ferro lived, ensuring Richter his beta title, Midas doubted Richter would throw in with Hadley.

Old fae grew ancient by keeping their heads down and their noses in their own business.

"He's loyal to Ferro, which means he's loyal to Natisha." He scoffed at the idea of her being worthy of it. "The whole pack will be useless against her."

"Even with the alpha lip service they're paying us?"

"Richter took your deal, so the objective is not in direct defiance of any order from Natisha. The coven must fall into a gray area for him. That, or he has no idea how deep Natisha is in with them. Given the personal nature of Natisha's vendetta, there's every reason to believe she would have kept her plans between her and Ferro."

"Plus, she was planning to pit the coven against the pack for control the city when she was done."

The two groups she intended to pit against one another couldn't be in close contact, or they might talk.

"Exactly."

"I was hoping our two problems would cancel each other out, but it figures we can't get that lucky."

"The odds are better than they could have been." He kissed the top of her head. "Thanks to you."

"Natisha is a nasty piece of work." She cuddled against him. "I don't want our people getting hurt to put her down."

"Neither do I." Midas breathed in the scent of her shampoo. "But she's coming for Mom and me, and Lethe and Eva. We have no choice but to fight. We can't run. We won't run. Atlanta is our home. We aren't leaving it to face Natisha alone."

"Aww." She beamed up at him. "You're on Team Atlanta."

"I always have been."

"No, you were on Team Hadley. This is different. This is you caring about more than the pack."

"You're a bad influence on me."

"Why, thank you."

"This is also our fault," he admitted as Bishop parked the truck across from the Active Oval portal.

"No." She got to her feet, stretched. "It's not."

"Not directly," he agreed, "but we're descended from the reason Natisha craves revenge. We kept the link to her past, and to the area, alive through calling on her in times of need."

Lips parted on her argument, Hadley leaned forward and squinted. "Is that…Ares?"

Sure enough, among the enforcers positioned around the portal, stood Ares.

She was leaner, paler, and her eyes were glassy, but she appeared determined to hold the line.

Leaping over the side of the truck, Midas opened the door for his mother. "Why is Ares here?"

"She had a seizure after you left." She stepped onto the asphalt. "Thank God, Abbott was still in the infirmary when the building went on lockdown. He evaluated her, and when he couldn't find the problem, he sedated her."

Midas pivoted to help Hadley down, who was listening in, and she came to stand beside him.

"Abbott got another call, about thirty minutes later, saying Liz was experiencing the same symptoms."

Usually, his mother didn't make him fight this hard for answers, but there were too many ears here.

"She almost lost the baby," she confided with a hand pressed over her heart. "She was terrified." Pain in her eyes urged him to reach out, take her hand in his. "She had two choices. Come clean with Abbott, or risk her pregnancy terminating." She squeezed his fingers then let him go, an alpha standing on her own. "That's the only reason she confessed to lacing Ares's food with burundanga."

"That sounds familiar." Hadley rubbed the base of her skull. "I can't remember why."

"Burundanga is the street name for the drug scopolamine," his mother explained. "It's called ‘Devil's Breath' or ‘the zombie drug.' It's odorless and tasteless and lethal in high doses. No surprise, as it's made from plants in the nightshade family. It stupefies its victims, making them more open to suggestion, and they wake with no memory of what they did—or what was done to them. The drug vanishes from the bloodstream within four hours, so there was no way to test for it."

Midas heard his doubt, sharp and thick. "You're saying Liz had Ares under her control the whole time?"

"I'm saying we might never know how much influence Liz exerted over Ares," Tisdale said carefully, "but Ares fought to undermine her every step of the way, and that makes me believe she was aware her control was slipping." Her lips thinned. "She blamed her behavior on protecting her mate. That might be true, to an extent, but it could also be the answer her mind grasped when she was unable to comprehend the reasons behind her actions."

As much as he wanted his mother to be right, for Ares to be innocent, he recalled the heartbreak Hadley endured while she believed Boaz and Adelaide were dead too clearly to walk over and shake Ares's hand or welcome her back.

Right now, they needed every able fighter in the streets, he got that, but a thorough investigation waited for Ares when this was over if she wanted to resume her job with its present security clearance.

Those results, he knew, would go a long way toward helping him and Hadley make their peace with her.

A throbbing at the base of his skull made it hard to focus. "What does the drug have to do with Liz?"

"The drug was laced with magic to make it more potent," she explained. "Ares's metabolism would have chewed it up and spat it out otherwise." Drugs and alcohol had little effect on shifters. They had to work hard to get drunk or high, and neither lasted long enough to be worth the expense. "Liz was already in withdrawal from not using her magic. Either she wasn't careful with the drug, or she was desperate for a hit. She became addicted in the process." Her silver hair gleamed as she shook her head. "Abbott found Liz's stash right where she said it would be. In their apartment, in a sugar tin. He's analyzing the compound to create a better treatment, but until then, he's using it to wean her and Ares off it."

Fingers laced at her navel, Hadley asked, "Will that affect the baby?"

"The magical nature of Liz's conception means we can't be certain whether or not the baby will be born with the serious health issues associated with addicts' pregnancies."

As much as he hated to ask, he had to know. "How sure are you that we can trust Ares?"

"Liz was willing to tell us everything," his mother said, "in order to make the pain stop."

Hope kindled within him for his friend, but he tempered it with caution. "How's the baby?"

"There's still a heartbeat." Lines gathered across her forehead. "Lisbeth is guarding her."

Abbott, he knew, would be caring for the wounded. Lisbeth was a solid second choice, given her nursing certification and position within the OPA, to monitor Liz.

"We outfitted Ares with an ankle monitor," his mother added. "If she turns on us, she won't get far."

The thick bands contained GPS chips for tracking but could also deploy several needlelike spikes designed to pierce skin and pump the wearer full of bronze nitrate with a press of a button. Between the two, Ares wouldn't evade recapture. It was as good as they could hope for, given the circumstances.

"Hope for the best," he said. "Plan for the worst."

"The coven has reminded us of that," she said somberly. "We take nothing for granted."

Midas turned to Hadley, but her troubled expression hinted she was chewing over all they had learned.

"I have to go." His mother smiled as two enforcers, who had chased after them on four legs, caught up with them. The few blocks barely winded them. "I need to check in with the others."

Tongues lolling, her guards followed her out to organize their forces from the frontline.

"I'm going to coordinate with Tisdale," Bishop said. "We need to keep our people all on the same page."

The pair set a course for the enforcers, heads bowed in conversation, the guards trotting after them.

The scent of witchborn fae blood tickled his nose, and Midas spun to find Remy, bathed in flaking crimson and reeking of copper and black magic, walking toward them.

"You made it out." Hadley tackled her with a hug. "Thank the goddess."

"Ow, ow, ow."Remy shoved at her. "Even my bruises have bruises right now."

Midas examined her, but she appeared to be all in one piece. "How did you escape?"

"Natisha thought she knocked me unconscious. I wasn't out, I just had to catch my breath. I bolted up the stairs the second she turned her back."

Hadley beat him to it. "The hearts?"

"She passed out the hearts from the backpack to five of her daughters and kept one for herself. They ate them, and then left with five more coven members." Remy lifted her tee to reveal vicious gashes crisscrossing her side and back, made by gwyllgi claws. "The remaining daughter was supposed to force me to sacrifice the last practitioner in exchange for my life, but I wasn't in the mood."

Natisha's ruthless practicality didn't surprise him, but her disregard for life still turned his stomach.

"How much of that blood is yours?" Hadley's hands shook. "Are you okay?"

"Okay as I'm going to get." She tugged her shirt down again. "I hamstrung the final daughter, and the practitioner stayed to watch over her. I couldn't get through to Faerie. You guys smashed the portal too well. I had to return to Buckhead, pick up my car, and race back here."

The way she drove, race was the exact word he would use.

"The circle is still holding then." Hadley blew out a huff of breath. "No one's broken it to trip the alarm."

For whatever reason, Natisha had decided to stay within the circle, close to the portal.

"There are strange gwyllgi in the streets with the stink of Faerie on them." Remy rubbed at a dry stain on her cheek. "How did they get here?"

A deep frown gathered in the corners of Hadley's mouth. "Good question."

As they watched, Natisha linked hands with her daughters and their sacrifices around the portal.

Bothhands, as in, she had two arms. He looked again, counted again, and was stunned all over again.

Hours passed at half-speed in the archive, but he had never witnessed such a feat in so short a time.

There were definite perks to being a fae healer as old as stardust.

"We need to get in there," Hadley murmured. "Break up their party before it gets started."

"I know what Liz is carrying." Remy grabbed her arm. "You can use her, and the baby, as leverage."

The idea of bartering a child left a bad taste in his mouth, but the coven had brought them here. He despised the idea of Hadley lowering herself to the coven's level, but she had to speak a language they understood.

Torn between hanging back to listen and rushing forward to confront Natisha, Hadley rocked on her heels. "This is about to get worse, isn't it?"

"Archie—whatever his name was—struck a bargain with the coven, okay? He wanted to breed more fae blood into his pack to strengthen their magic. The deal was, the coven kept the girls and the pack kept the boys. It worked until a girl was born with immense power, and Archie decided to keep her. He lied to the coven, told them she was stillborn, but they could sense her. They found the baby, called Archie on his lie, then slapped him in the face with the fine print on their contract. Near as I can tell, he literally sold his soul in the bargain."

"You're not serious." Hadley gawped at her. "His soul?"

"The patriarch of our pack was an idiot," Midas realized. "I'm shocked Natisha let us live this long."

"You've still got your looks." Remy smirked. "That's what really matters." She snickered. "To Hadley."

"Hello?" Hadley snapped her fingers at the end of Remy's nose. "Get to the point."

"Natisha jumped in bed with the coven after they added her wolf man to their closet." She slapped away Hadley's hand. "She wanted him back. Not because she loved him or whatever. She wanted to punish him. They refused. Told her they couldn't hand him over even if they wanted to, which they didn't, but anyway. He was spirit, not flesh."

The origin story for his pack had always been told the same way, handed down from parent to child, as a way to honor those long-distant relatives who founded their pack with an act of love. He figured it had been embellished, the edges smoothed, but he never considered it might be entirely false.

Archimedes had spun a story to earn him condolences and his children acceptance. He spread it as his pack grew, passing it down through the generations until it was known, until it was fact, until it was truth.

But it was a lie.

Maybe not every single detail, but enough to change the narrative in his favor.

To rub salt in the wound, Archimedes had given his daughters their mother's true name so they could call on her in times of great need. They had passed it down through their line, forcing Natisha to watch as her children's children were born, lived, and died. From the outside. Without ever knowing them.

The cycle was never ending.

Neither was the servitude.

No wonder she fisted her grudge with both hands. No wonder she wanted to wipe out his family line.

"She did all this to get his soul back?" Midas pursed his lips. "What good would that do her?"

"Plenty." Reaching out, Remy booped him on the nose. "If she could reincarnate him."

"Oh frak." Hadley got there before he did. "That's the child price?"

"Liz is pregnant with the spirit of Archimedes?" Midas stared, dumbfounded. "That's…"

"Creepy." Hadley shivered. "It's morbid to impregnate someone with your ex-lover's spirit."

Not to mention it cost the baby Liz conceived its soul to make room for Archimedes to claim its body.

"Will he be himself when he's born?" Midas's protective instincts roared to life within him. "Or will he truly be a child?"

"He will be himself," Remy confirmed, "fully awake and aware. That's the point. She wants to make his life a living hell, and she plans on starting from day one."

Using shorthand, he texted his mother a condensed version of what they had learned to prepare her.

"Goddess," Hadley breathed. "Natisha has truly gone around the bend."

Done with his update, he pocketed his phone. "And Archimedes is the one who drove her there."

"We still have to stop her." Hadley rested a hand on his arm. "She's taken her revenge too far."

"I know." He covered her hand with his. "I wish things could have been different."

Old fae were too set in their ways to bend. It never would have occurred to Natisha to ask his mother to simply let her true name die with her generation. She wouldn't have considered asking for help, or a favor. It wasn't how things were done in Faerie. It was more natural for her to use threats, cunning, and hatred to fix a problem.

"We can't let her leave." Hadley turned back to Natisha and her motley coven with a scowl. "She'll head straight for the Faraday and kill anyone who gets in her way."

To have come this far, Natisha wouldn't leave Atlanta without her prize.

"There must be a way," he murmured, his gaze locked onto Natisha. "Maybe if we…"

"No more deals." Hadley cupped his face, forcing him to meet her gaze. "We can't bargain this away."

"You're right." He rested his hands over hers. "No good would come of that."

Power blasted out from Natisha's circle, striking them with a burst of foul black magic.

An almost tangible layer of negative energy encased Midas, leaving a residue on his skin that stung.

He stared at his hands, his arms, then rubbed them, but the sensation persisted, the burn constant.

"It's begun." A chill swept through Hadley, raising gooseflesh on her arms. "We have to end this."

"I need to grab something I stashed." Remy took a step back. "Don't start the party without me."

"Too late for that." Hadley pulled him after her. "I hope you wore your dancing shoes."

They broke apart, Remy sprinting away from danger, and Hadley, as usual, rushing straight for it.