The cottage was rarely ever quiet. Especially in the morning when they were usually getting ready to open their homerun shop. But today was their day off. And since Delilah was in the bath, Hattie and Xavier were shopping, and Anabel was experimenting with potions in her bedroom, Wynter found herself alone in the kitchen and … yeah, the silence was almost eerie.
Still, it was kind of nice to be able to sit at the table drinking tea and be alone with her thoughts. So her mouth tightened when there was a gentle knock on the front door.
Wynter pushed away from the table, crossed the living area, and pulled open the door. She tensed as she took in the astonishingly beautiful blonde standing on her doorstep with a female aide at her side. What in the hell … ?
Ishtar gave her a soft, practiced smile. “Good morning, I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
Wynter highly doubted the woman would care if she was. The words were polite but empty.
“We’ve never officially met, have we?”
Careful to keep her expression neutral, Wynter said, “No, we haven’t.”
“I am Ishtar.”
“Wynter.”
She peered over Wynter’s shoulder. “I do hope you don’t rudely intend to leave me standing on the doorstep.”
The Ancient wanted to enter her home? The same Ancient who’d glared at her several times? Not funny, universe. Not funny.
Unable to turn the woman away without insulting her, Wynter stepped aside and invited her to enter.
Ishtar instructed her aide to remain outside and then slowly strolled through the door and into the living area. She glanced around, unimpressed. “I sometimes forget how small these houses are. It must be frightfully inconvenient to have so little space. Why, you couldn’t swing a cat in here.”
Wynter really wouldn’t want to swing a cat anywhere, but whatever. Her inner monster tilted its head, studying the visitor. It didn’t want her in its domain. Didn’t trust her near Wynter. But it remained calm, not getting the sense that the woman meant her physical harm. At least not today.
“Can I get you a drink? Tea? Coffee?” Cyanide?
“No, thank you.” Ishtar gingerly sat on the armchair, her brow creasing in concern. “I heard about the attempted kidnapping. It must have been quite an upsetting experience for you.”
Wynter sank onto the sofa. “You could say that.” It wouldn’t be true, but it could be said.
“You know people will keep coming on behalf of the Aeons, don’t you? It will be never-ending. I am aware that Cain and the other Ancients believe that one of the Aeons will eventually come here. I am more of the opinion that they will continue sending others to do their dirty work. But if they do come here, you will need to be ready for what happens next.”
“What does that mean?”
Ishtar smoothed a non-existent wrinkle out of her long, flowing skirt. “I know you are involved with Cain. I can see why you would be drawn to him at a time when your life is in such peril. He is, after all, more than a match for the people who would do you harm.” She paused. “This is the first time we have ever had something that they want. And so, it is the first time we are in a position to barter with them for what we want. I cannot elaborate on that. Not without the full support of the other Ancients, and they would never grant it to me. What I mean to say … is that you should brace yourself for what will feel like a betrayal.”
Wynter’s insides seized. “A betrayal?”
“I am sure it is easy to believe that you matter to Cain. He is good at making a woman believe that—it is something I know from experience. He is a master manipulator, which I can admit I admire. The people around him who are of use to him … they are simply pieces on his chessboard. He moves them to wherever he wants them. Each move he himself makes is practiced. Cunning. Calculated.
“And you … you he wishes to keep close, because you may gain him what he wants. As such, that is where he placed you on his board. If the Aeons offer him what he seeks in exchange for you, he will make that trade.”
Wynter barely stopped her eyes from narrowing. Was Cain good at manipulation? She believed so. Would he use people however he pleased? Undoubtedly, since he didn’t see many as relevant. But would he trade Wynter for something he wanted? That she didn’t know. What she did know was that she couldn’t trust this woman’s intentions for even a second.
From her peripheral vision, Wynter sensed Delilah silently descend the stairs but didn’t look her way. “Why are you telling me this?” she asked Ishtar.
“As I said, I know from experience how good he is at making a woman believe she means something to him. I bought it. I wish someone had warned me to keep my guard up. Then I would have been ready for that moment when he kicked me completely off his chessboard. That is the thing with Cain. He constantly replaces his pawns, because he tires of them so quickly.” She paused at a bang upstairs.
Wynter inwardly sighed. Anabel and her fucking experiments. Wynter just hoped the woman hadn’t set herself on fire again.
“Each new game comes with new pawns,” Ishtar went on. “Right now, he is playing a game with the Aeons. Like it or not, you are a key piece on his board right now. But once you have served your purpose, he will kick you off it too.”
Quite possibly. Wynter wasn’t under the impression that she was important to Cain. He was possessive of her and seemed intent on keeping her around, but it didn’t automatically follow that he felt any deeper emotions for her. She’d never allowed herself to think differently.
Still, she wasn’t convinced he’d so callously set her aside. Or maybe she simply didn’t want to consider it. “You really believe he’ll hand me over to the Aeons if they make him the right offer?”
Ishtar gave her a sympathetic smile. “Darling girl, he has tunnel vision where this particular matter is concerned. They betrayed us all, but they have also deprived Cain of something his entire life. Someone, I should say. For a millennia, his whole focus has been on retrieving what should never have been taken from him. He has known you, what, a few weeks? Do you think he would truly turn down the opportunity to obtain what he’s sought for so long just to ensure your safety? Especially when you are mortal and will die soon enough in any case?”
“What do you suggest I do?”
“There is nothing you really can do. Cain will not give you space. He will not move you to another square on his chessboard until he is ready. And there is no way to ensure he doesn’t trade you if the opportunity arises. You would have no way to fight him.
“None of the other Ancients—not even myself—would wish to stand against him to help you. We want him to have what he seeks. Seth, though … Seth may help you. He has a good heart, unlike the rest of us. He would empathize with your situation. He is also the one person who Cain would not harm, so if Seth gave you sanctuary at his Keep, you would be free of Cain’s clutches.”
So, what, she wanted Wynter to pit one brother off against the other? Was that it? Or was it just a simple case that Ishtar wanted her away from Cain and figured that Seth was the one person who could keep them apart without there being any bloodshed?
Ugh, Wynter didn’t have the patience for this. Deciding the best way to get the Ancient to leave would be to let her think this ‘play’ she was making had worked, Wynter said, “I suppose it’s worth a shot.”
Triumph very briefly flashed in Ishtar’s eyes. Again, she gave Wynter a gentle smile. “All you can do is try. And you should. This is your life at stake. I know Cain is contracted to not give you up to anyone who may come for you, but there are loopholes. All he would have to do is return the rights to your soul, and he would no longer be obliged to do anything to protect you. Until then, he will indeed keep you safe. But only because you are of use to him.”
Maybe, maybe not. But wanting this conversation over with, Wynter continued to play the part of the crushed female. “It’s so hard to accept that he had me so fooled. He said so many sweet things to me. And he always insisted on me sleeping in his bed at night.”
A hardness slid into Ishtar’s expression at the latter comment, but it quickly melted away. “Of course he did. As I said, he wishes to keep you close.”
Wynter groaned. “I feel so stupid.”
“You are not stupid, dear girl. He is simply a very accomplished liar who reads people well. He senses what they’ll need to hear, and he tells them those very things.” Seemingly satisfied that her work was done, Ishtar rose. “Now I must go. I am sure I will see you at the festivities tonight. Do enjoy yourself. And best of luck with Seth. If anyone can keep you safe from Cain, it is him.” The Ancient then breezed out of the cottage.
Delilah stepped into the doorway of the living area. “What in the world was that?”
“A play of some kind,” Wynter replied. “Whether or not she’s telling the truth about Cain being willing to hand me over to the Aeons at a later date, I don’t know. But she did not come here out of any concern for me, so why else tell me all that?”
Delilah leaned against the doorjamb. “To shake any faith you might have in Cain? To make you distance yourself from him?”
“But why, though? I know she wants Cain, but she can’t possibly view me as a true threat. She sees me as a mere mortal—weak, naïve, easily manipulated. She thinks nothing of mortals.”
“Exactly. To her, you’re nothing. And yet, you have him; she doesn’t. That stabs her ego. It’s all about how she feels.”
“I guess. Still, this doesn’t add up to me. I mean, she put a whole lot of effort into trying to make me believe that Cain will one day betray me. Why warn me, when she’d surely be finding it amusing that I’m being played? Why shorten her fun? Why not prefer to wait for the day where I get to see for myself that I’m nothing to him so she can laugh at my expense?”
Delilah frowned. “Maybe you’re wrong in believing she doesn’t see you as a threat. Something about your relationship with Cain unsettled her enough to inspire her uppity ass to come all the way here and sow some seeds of distrust.” She paused. “Are you going to tell him about her impromptu visit?”
“Probably not. He wouldn’t like it. I don’t want the Ancients arguing among themselves at a time when their enemies could potentially arrive.”
“You don’t want to ask Cain about it? You don’t want to find out if just maybe there is something they’ll offer him in trade?”
“You think he’d really be upfront about it if there was?”
“I guess not, but it’s worth asking. We need to know, Wyn. We need to be sure these people will truly keep you safe.”
Wynter leaned forward in her seat. “You’re now thinking it might be good for us to just cut and run.”
“Yeah, I am.”
“Maybe that’s what she intended. Maybe that was the purpose of her little visit.”
Delilah squinted. “Huh. Maybe.”
“Look, I’m not going to dash out of here in a blind panic. For all we know, the Aeons have people watching Devil’s Cradle. If I get the sense—or an otherworldly warning—that we need to leave, then that’s what we’ll do. At the moment, I’m not feeling that. And I have to consider that Ishtar could simply be playing mind games.”
“Do you trust Cain to keep you safe?”
“At all costs? No. I don’t trust that any of the Ancients will. But there is a strong chance that they’ll back me, even though it would only be to piss off the Aeons.”
“And if they don’t back you?”
Wynter felt her face harden. “I’ll wreak the kind of havoc they’ll have never seen coming.”
*
Okay, so she hadn’t expected this when she walked into the arena. People weren’t ushered into the spectator area. They were guided to the performance space, which had been made into a makeshift gambling area. There were blackjack tables, roulette wheels, craps tables, and roped-off poker games. There were also several stalls scattered around featuring carnival games such as Hoopla, Basketball, Ball and Bucket Toss, and Tin Can Alley. The battle square was once more exposed, and the people surrounding it took bets as others went head to head in the square.
The combination should have been weird, but it worked. There was something for everyone.
Hattie glanced around, excited. “All that’s missing are male pole dancers. That would make my night complete.”
Xavier snickered. “I don’t think George would like watching you ogle other men. But hey, there’s apparently gonna be some kind of Vegas-like show after everyone’s eaten, so maybe they’ll have some male strippers.”
“We won’t have to stay long, will we?” Anabel held her arms close to her sides. “It’s bad enough that the place is packed with people. All the bunnies are making it hard to take a step without crushing something. And why are they wearing top hats? It’s just weird.”
Wynter turned to her with a sigh. “See, this is why we ask you not to experiment on yourself. There are no bunnies. Or top hats. You’re hallucinating again.”
A line dented Anabel’s brow. “But they look so real. Are you sure?”
“As sure as I am that Bruce Willis was not hanging out in our cottage earlier talking to you about herbs, despite what you insisted.” That had been a weird half hour.
“He seemed so real.” Anabel looked at her bare arms. “Just like this hideous rash.”
“Oh no, that’s real.”
She stomped her foot. “Dammit.”
Delilah gently elbowed the blonde. “Hey, on the upside, I don’t think Diego will wanna touch you tonight.”
Anabel brightened. “That’s a good point. He’ll give me space for sure.” Her eyes narrowed in thought. “In fact … ” She let out an experimental cough loud enough to make a few people turn. Spotting the rash covering her face, neck, and arms, they understandably took a step back. Many preternaturals were immune to viruses, but not all.
She kept coughing and sniffling, clearly delighted that the crowd parted like the red sea. “I should really do this more often. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before.”
Delilah frowned. “You’d willingly look hideous just so people would give you a wide berth?”
Anabel sniffed. “Unlike you, I do not care what others think of my appearance. I reject vanity in all its forms.”
Wynter sighed. “If you convince people you have a rash, they’re going to worry that it’s contagious, and then they won’t come to our shop anymore.”
Anabel looked at her for a long moment. “Xavier’s right, you really do choose to focus too much on logic.”
He smiled at the blonde. “Thank you.”
Anabel looked off to the side, her mouth curving. “Ah, that’s cute.”
“What?” he asked.
“The pony.”
He cleared his throat. “Not real.”
“Shit.”
“Ooh, I see George.” Hattie pulled a little spray bottle out of her purse, squirted some of the contents into her mouth, and then dropped the small cannister back into the bag. “I’ll catch up with you lot later.” And off she went.
Xavier rubbed his hands. “All right, let’s go waste our money.”
Wandering from table to table and stall to stall, they pretty much did exactly that. Eventually, they made their way to the battle square, where they managed to win back a lot of the cash they’d lost, since they were pretty good at predicting which fighter would come out on top.
At one point, hands clamped on Wynter’s hips, and a mouth grazed her temple. “Thought I might find you over here, little witch.”
She smiled, her body perking up in all the best places. Although her earlier conversation with Ishtar had filled her with doubts, Wynter had chosen to shake them off. He’d given her no reason to believe he was using her, and she wasn’t going to let Ishtar poison what they had unless, or until, proof of such a claim appeared. “I figured you’d be playing poker with the other Ancients or something.”
“One game was enough.” Cain hummed. “What a view.”
Realizing he was looking at her cleavage, she rolled her eyes. Typical boy.
He nipped her earlobe. “Now I’m remembering the time I thrust my cock between your breasts until I came all over them,” he whispered.
She swallowed at the memory, her hormones getting all stirred up. “You’re mean to do this to me here.”
He let out a wicked chuckle and, curling his arm around her waist, moved to her side. “Who did you place your money on?”
“The lamia. And I’m glad. She’s totally wiping the floor with the vampire.” The lamia continued to do exactly that, and victory was very soon hers. The crowd’s winnings were handed out. Wynter happily accepted hers and pocketed the cash.
Just then, another Ancient sidled up to them and nodded. “Cain, Wynter.”
“Hey, Azazel,” she greeted simply.
His gaze cut to Anabel, and his brow creased. “What’s with the rash?”
“I’m allergic to crowds.” The blonde tilted her head. “Why are you wearing a tin foil hat?”
Xavier leaned into her. “Not real,” he muttered.
She closed her eyes. “Dammit.”
Delilah nudged Wynter, chuckling. “Get a look at Hattie staring at George’s ass while he’s tossing hoops at the bottles. I don’t know how to feel about the fact that her sex life is currently better than mine.”
“And mine,” added Xavier.
“Only because you’re set on fighting Elias and his boyfriend,” Delilah pointed out. “A threesome would spice things up for sure.”
Xavier narrowed his eyes. “You know as well as I do that Elias is just messing with me.”
“That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t gladly fuck you.”
Anabel’s face softened, her eyes landing on her shoulder. “Aw, how beautiful. I love butterflies.” She began uttering soft, non-intelligible sounds to the flying insect that only she could see. But then her brow puckered, and she glanced up at Xavier. “It’s not real, is it?”
“Oh no, it’s real,” he assured her.
A sigh of relief slipped out of Anabel, and she smiled brightly. “Good. For a second there, I was worried I was embarrassing myself cooing over thin air.” Shaking her head at herself, as if she’d been dumb to doubt her eyes, she went back to freaking serenading a non-existent butterfly.
Wynter shot Xavier a hard look, but before she could order the lying bastard to tell her the truth, Delilah leaned into Wynter and whispered, “We need to teach her a lesson or she’s not gonna stop carelessly sampling her wares.”
That was true enough.
Azazel turned to Wynter. “What is happening?” he asked quietly, glancing briefly at Anabel, who was putting her fingers to her shoulder and trying to coax the ‘butterfly’ to walk onto her hand.
“She experiments on herself with her potions,” Wynter explained, her voice low. “There are often temporary after-effects. Hence the rash and hallucinations.”
“And the edginess around people?”
“No, she’s always like that.” Feeling eyes on her, Wynter looked to see Ishtar staring at her. The Ancient looked from her to Cain, clearly confused. Wynter shrugged in a ‘I’m just weak where he’s concerned’ gesture. It was better to keep up the naïve act.
Cain squeezed her hip. “We’re leaving now.”
She frowned. “We are? But there’s a show coming up. And the usual feast.”
“I know.” He picked up her hand. “I’ll feed you at the Keep, and I’ll be sure to entertain you.” He licked at the mark on her palm.
Her breath snagged in her throat as an invisible tongue swiped between her folds. “Bastard.”
His gaze was lit with both humor and need. “I could make you come in front of all these people, if you’d prefer.” He jabbed his tongue into the center of her palm.
She jumped, feeling as if the aforementioned tongue had sank into her pussy. “No, I damn well wouldn’t.”
“Then you’d better come with me, hadn’t you?”
Anabel’s head shot up, and she let out a sad sigh. “Ah, it’s gone.” Her eyes flitted from person to person, taking in their expressions. Whatever she saw made her face darken. She whirled on the male at her side. “Xavier.”
He bust a gut laughing, the shit.
