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Darkness Bound (A Night Prowler Novel) Page 7


  Alejandro turned his attention back to Morgan. He brushed an invisible piece of lint from one of his pristine linen sleeves and said with supreme indifference, “Naturally, I had a few ideas regarding how we might proceed in this area, but you may continue and share yours.”

  Her voice, dripping with what could be interpreted either as sarcasm or abject groveling, depending on where you stood, Morgan said, “Thank you, Sire.” She dipped another curtsy, just as ironic as the first.

  Alejandro beamed, Xander scowled, and Hawk had the startling thought that Morgan might be the smartest person in the room.

  Had she foreseen this entire scenario? Alejandro’s reactions, and his own? Were the two of them playing right into her hands?

  She adopted a brisk, businesslike tone. “What I propose is this. Let’s make this woman aware of our intention to expose the evidence of her, ah . . .” she floundered, but recovered quickly, “exploits, and offer her a chance to avoid public humiliation. If she writes another article denouncing the first, we can destroy the photos. If she refuses, we simply proceed as planned. But if she agrees, we have the opportunity of a lifetime. A highly respected reporter who reconsidered her position and now fully supports Shifters will, if nothing else, grow doubts in the minds of those who agreed with her in the first place. We could even insist she call for a repeal of the anti-Shifter laws, speak in front of the UN. If it doesn’t work we’ve lost nothing either way.”

  Judging by Alejandro’s frown, he was seriously considering the merits of her argument. Hawk gave him another little shove in the right direction just to be sure.

  He sighed and shook his head, looking at the Alpha with fraternal scorn as if to say, This broad is a real piece of work, right?

  Alejandro’s lips thinned. Looking directly at Hawk, he said coolly, “Your logic is impeccable, Morgan. Well done.”

  Hawk tried hard to look crestfallen, but guessed he probably just looked constipated because Alejandro stared at him with venomous intensity like a cobra just before a strike.

  But it was Morgan who went in for the kill.

  “And I think to add credence to her sudden change of opinion, this reporter should be brought here to live with us. To observe us. So when she tells the world how wonderful we really are, she has a response when they ask, ‘How do you know?’ ”

  Hawk’s mouth wasn’t the only one that dropped open. All around the room, mouths gaped. Eyes rounded. Faces stared back at her in disbelief. There were a few low, horrified gasps, some nervous chuckles, a lone curse from one of the older Assembly members, whose astonished face had blanched white.

  “Live with us?” Hawk blurted, dropping his feigned scorn for true incredulity. Was she insane? “Morgan, that’s just crazy. We can’t have a human come live with us—”

  “Why not?” She turned to gaze at him in steady self-confidence.

  “We’ll be completely exposed, that’s why not! I mean, consider for a minute what could happen. Even if she does agree to it and comes here, there’s no guarantee she won’t tell anyone our location. In fact, why wouldn’t she? Blackmailed and kidnapped—I assume she’d have to be kidnapped; she’s not gonna come waltzing through the jungle on her own—and held against her will, forced to write something she doesn’t believe. You think this woman is just going to keep our location a secret? And even if, for some unfathomable reason, she did keep our location a secret after we released her, there’s a few people I can think of who would have absolutely no problem getting it out of her! In some pretty nasty ways! Don’t forget, there’s a huge bounty on all of our heads! We can’t live with humans.”

  That’s when Morgan played her trump card. “The Queen thinks we can.”

  Hawk’s jaw closed with an audible snap. The room fell into crackling silence.

  Ah yes, the Queen. Their powerful, liberal, half-human Queen, the mere mention of whom had the entire room sitting up straighter in their chairs, soiling their underwear.

  Including the Alpha.

  Aside from Morgan and Xander, Alejandro was the only one present who’d ever met the Queen. To hear it told, she was so stunning and powerful he fell at her feet and sniveled like a teething baby.

  In a quiet, menacing voice, Alejandro said, “The Queen is not here.”

  “She will be. Soon,” said Thiago, the young man in charge of building the new compound that would house the Queen and her family. She’d given birth to twins a few months back, and hadn’t been able to relocate to Brazil until the babies were old enough. They were expected within weeks.

  Morgan nodded. “And I daresay, it would reflect so well on you, Sire, that you had the foresight and compassion to bring this reporter here in the hopes of giving humans a better understanding of our kind. I know the Queen well. This is exactly the kind of thing that would please her.”

  With an air of virgin innocence as false as a pair of wooden teeth, Morgan folded her hands together at her waist, smiled at the Alpha—gazing up at him demurely from beneath a fringe of black lashes—and stood waiting for him to speak.

  And Hawk saw the genius in her plan.

  Alejandro was now in a pickle of epic proportion.

  If he agreed to Morgan’s plan, he’d look weak. Weakness was the one thing an Alpha could never show, because it would call his entire rule into question. But if he disregarded the plan, he risked the Queen’s displeasure. And a creature who could turn not only to panther and Vapor, but also to any animal she wished, to any element, to any thing—including her currently favored form of a fire-breathing, enormous white dragon—was not a creature you wanted to piss off.

  Hawk watched Alejandro squirm over the conundrum with a glee he hadn’t felt in years.

  “The colony is stretched to capacity as it is,” the Alpha began slowly, thoughts churning behind his glittering eyes. “We’ve already had to assimilate the members of the Nepal, Quebec, and Sommerley colonies because of the threats against us. Not only are we overcrowded, but we are the last bastion of safety for our kind. We’re the only colony that hasn’t been discovered by the Expurgari. And, as far as we know, the only one Caesar hasn’t discovered as well. If we bring this human woman here, we risk not only discovery . . . we risk the extinction of our entire species. If this colony falls, we all fall. Forever.”

  Morgan’s reply came in a voice clear and strong. “The risk of extinction is upon us no matter how we proceed with this reporter, Sire. There’s no going back to the old ways of hiding and pretending that kept us safe for so long. The world has shrunk far too small for us to hide any longer. Even the rainforest is disappearing, eaten up by logging and agriculture, by human development. How long will it be before they find us simply because the forest has been devoured by their civilization? How long can we reasonably expect to survive here like this—one generation longer? Two?”

  Men moved their weight uncomfortably in their seats. It was the unspoken, gnawing fear among them, the question of what would happen when there were no longer any wild places left to hide. How would they survive as they had been for millennia, in secrecy and silence? What would become of them once Man consumed all the shadowed, untouched places, breached the dark heart of the rainforest that had shielded them for so long?

  “Our discovery is inevitable,” Morgan continued. “Even if we move from here, there are few places left on the planet where we can hide. Humans already know we exist; they have the most terrible proof. Caesar—the traitor, the murderer—is who they think we all are. Let’s give them reason to believe we shouldn’t be judged by the worst among us. Let’s give them reason to step back from their hate and hysteria, and consider us not as enemies, but as equals. Let’s give them something more powerful than hate. Something even more powerful, possibly, than love.”

  Morgan glanced away from Alejandro. Her gaze rested on Xander’s anxious face, and she looked at him with such unconcealed adoration that a pang of som
ething akin to jealousy twisted Hawk’s heart.

  What would it be like to have a woman like her look at you like that?

  “And what might that be?” Alejandro prompted.

  Morgan turned her eyes back to the Alpha. She said simply, “Hope.”

  Silence, loud as thunder. Off in the distance a bird screeched. The cry was cut off abruptly, as if it had been swallowed.

  Morgan continued, softer than before. “Humans aren’t so different from us. They want better lives for themselves. They want better lives for their children. They want a better world. They hope for all these things, just like we do, and that’s what makes us the same. That’s why we have to show them we’re better as friends than enemies. That the world can be a better place if we can learn to coexist. But they can’t know about us unless we take the risk and show them. And we have no better opportunity than with this reporter. Here, in a controlled environment, she can see us . . . and she can testify to the rest of the world what she saw.”

  Morgan stepped forward from her place at the table, her hands clasped against her chest, her face full of fervent emotion. Every eye in the room was trained on her.

  “My Lord,” she entreated in a low voice that throbbed with emotion, “let us lead the revolution. Let us be the ones who finally have the courage to step into the light. Let us be the bringers of hope to a world that so desperately needs it.”

  Hearing these words, Hawk was moved to the core of his soul.

  He was moved by Morgan’s bravery and her eloquence, by her passion and idealism, but most of all by the inescapable realization that she had indeed planned this entire scenario, right down to the words she would speak.

  She was risking everything, including her life, for the cause of peace. For people who misunderstood her, who because of the actions of a madman actually hated her, Morgan was risking death.

  This might have been the most blatant display of sheer courage he’d ever seen. It was a small thing, just standing there alone, but colossal in scope in the effect it might have.

  It was genius.

  “Alexander,” said Alejandro in a flat tone, without looking away from Morgan, “your wife continually surprises me. What a warrior she would have made had she been born male.”

  In exactly the same tone Xander replied, “She’s twice the warrior of any male I’ve ever met.” He added a curt, “Brother.”

  Alejandro cut his gaze to Xander. “I’m sure you meant ‘Sire,’ ” he said, deadly soft, his fingers white around the stem of his wineglass.

  The smile that spread over Xander’s mouth was grim. He inclined his head and said nothing, the muscles in his broad shoulders rippling with tension.

  Morgan, sensing an impending disaster, intervened. “My Lord, please forgive me if I’ve overstepped my—”

  “No.” Alejandro’s voice rang out through the open-air space. “You’ve done the right thing. There’s nothing to forgive. From you.” His icy gaze swept over the gathered men, who’d frozen at the anger ringing in his voice. “I expected more, however, from the rest of you. How is it that Morgan—a new addition to our colony, I might add—has my best interests at heart, and shares my exact thoughts on the proper way to proceed with this Dolan woman, yet the rest of you do not?”

  The silence that echoed throughout the Assembly room was cavernous and fraught. Everyone present knew there was no correct answer to this question. Judging by the way tension ebbed from Xander’s shoulders, however, Hawk realized that Morgan was out of imminent danger.

  Alejandro had decided to pretend the entire thing was his idea, his earlier disagreement only for show.

  “My apologies for my short-sightedness. You’re right.”

  Alejandro’s eyes raked over Hawk with a fury that was palpable. “Of course I’m right,” he hissed. “I. Am. The. Alpha!”

  “Yes. You are.” Hawk kept his voice devoid of emotion or inflection. “And I’m sure you’ve already thought of how we should next proceed.”

  The Alpha paused just long enough so the tension in the room rose to a new high. He said, “Naturally.” Then he smiled with such malevolence it sent a tingle of sinister premonition down Hawk’s spine.

  Whatever he was going to say next wouldn’t be good.

  “You’re going to get this Dolan woman. You’re going to bring her back here—unharmed, mind you—and she’ll stay with us for a period of time that I’ll determine.” His ugly smile grew wider, and so did Hawk’s certainty of impending doom.

  The Alpha proved him right with his next words. “And during her time here . . . she’ll be living with you.”

  Hawk’s heart screeched to a stop inside his chest. The thought of sharing his home—his sanctuary—with a woman was about as appealing as having all of his teeth pulled out with a pair of pliers, one by one. Without anesthesia.

  Which Alejandro undoubtedly knew. Everyone knew it: Hawk was a loner. He hated petty conversation almost as much as he hated any kind of obligation, and women were chock-full of both. Of all the females he’d wooed since he was a young man, not a single one had ever been inside his home. He went to theirs or they met in the forest or, in the cases of the human females he met in the city on the procurement trips he was regularly assigned to, at hotels with rooms rentable by the hour. Anywhere he could make a quick, clean getaway once the fun had been had.

  And after what he’d done to her, Jacqueline Dolan would, no doubt, make regular efforts to kill him in his sleep.

  Disaster.

  Morgan was blinking in surprise. Beside her, Xander gazed at him in sympathy. The other Assembly members looked as if they might break into hysterical laughter.

  The loner, the outsider, the infamous Bastard, forced to share his own personal space with a human female who despised him as much as he despised her, for an indeterminate amount of time, under the watchful eyes of the entire tribe.

  Hawk couldn’t think of a worse fate.

  But Alejandro wasn’t done. “You’ll be in charge of making sure everything goes according to plan, and that this reporter forms a more favorable opinion of us. You’ll be in charge of ensuring that article is written—”

  “And in return?” he interrupted, seething. “If I successfully bring her here and convince her that not only should she not kill me because of how I used her, but that she should also produce an article in direct contradiction to the one that won her such fame, what do I get?”

  Alejandro grinned. “You get to keep your head attached to your body.”

  Morgan went white, Xander turned red, and Hawk wished, for not the first time, he’d been born anyone else, in any other time, in any other place than this.

  “Run along now, Hawk,” said Alejandro, still grinning. “And try not to cock it up.”

  Having survived the dreaded annual birthday pilgrimage to her father’s house, Jack returned to her apartment in the city. Exhausted and in dire need of a shower, she greeted the stark stillness of her empty apartment with the same level of enthusiasm one approaches a trip to the gynecologist.

  Standing in the dark foyer—the overhead light had burned out again—she looked around, weighing the silence.

  High ceilings. Tall, uncovered windows across the length of two walls. Yawning space, devoid of furniture or even rugs to muffle the walnut floors that echoed with every step. Hoping a home of her own would help fill the gaping hole inside her chest that seemed to grow larger with every passing year, Jack had purchased the loft three years ago with the idea of putting down roots, of making a welcoming space she could return to from her travels, a spot uniquely her own.

  The roots she hoped to grow had failed to flourish. She’d never had the time—more honestly the inclination—to decorate beyond the mere basics. Bed. Desk. Chest of drawers. She didn’t even have a dining room table. After three years the place was almost as bare as the day she’d m
oved in.

  It fits though, Jack thought wryly. Unembellished and unwelcoming, the space was undoubtedly hers.

  She dropped her duffel bag on the floor just inside the door, and stripped off her jacket and T-shirt. She left them both atop the bag, kicked off her shoes, and headed to the kitchen in her bra and jeans. The fridge revealed its usual array of barren shelves and empty drawers, with the exception of a single bottle of Stella Artois.

  “Hello, beautiful,” Jack said, reaching for the beer. She made quick work of popping the top, and leaned against the counter to drink it, swallowing in long, greedy gulps.

  Thank you, God, for getting me through today. The bickering of car horns in traffic drifted up from the street twenty stories below, and Jack enjoyed a moment’s peace.

  Until the phone rang.

  “Not home,” she said aloud, hearing her voice echo through the loft as if through the walls of a canyon. “Leave a message.”

  When the machine on the kitchen counter clicked on—she still kept the bulky answering machine she’d had since her freshman year in college—Nola’s voice broke the silence.

  “Your cell is off. Just checking to make sure you didn’t get shot in Brazil. Because, you know, with you that’s always a possibility.”

  Smiling, Jack picked up the phone.

  “Shot with a sex pistol,” she drawled, her smile growing wider. Hearing her friend’s voice, and thinking about the handsome stranger named Hawk, both managed to lift Jack’s spirits.

  “Hey! You’re home! When did you get in?”

  “Literally right this second.” Jack looked at the half-empty bottle in her hand. “I was just getting something to eat.”

  “Let me guess. Beer and veggie pizza.”

  Jack laughed. “Minus the pizza. You know me too well, lady. How are you?”

  “Just making sure you’re not dead in some jungle somewhere, like I said. And calling to wish you a happy belated birthday. Did you think I forgot?”

  “Oh, you obviously didn’t forget! I gotta hand it to you, No, that was one hell of a birthday present. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you. The guy was like some supermodel assassin rock-star sex god. Unbelievable. I won’t ask you how much you had to shell out for that kind of quality, but whatever you paid, he was worth it. I think I’ll be sore for a week.”