Fated (15 page)

By the time she’d straightened up, trying to remain dignified in the face of what she was sure would be yet another flip comment . . . he was gone.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

M
oros stood next to his bed, looking down at the place Aislin had slept. Before he could stop himself, he lowered his face to the sheets and inhaled her delicate violet scent. And then he shoved himself up and walked into his closet. He gritted his teeth as he dressed himself, furious at the feel of the bandage against his skin, the ache of his wound, the fact that he could be hurt at all.

Including by Aislin. He refused to allow it. She’d seemed herself just now, composed and coherent, so sharp and clever that he’d wanted to scoop her into his arms and laugh. She’d made creating a new Blade of Life sound so easy, so possible, so utterly and obviously logical that it was impossible to argue. He wasn’t used to depending on anyone but himself to take action, but if anyone could accomplish this task, Aislin could.

He pushed away the swell of admiration for her, because it came along with a dangerous side effect—adoration. Desire. Not just for her body, though his had hardened at the sight of her wearing his shirt and nothing else. Her sense of herself, her confidence, her power—they all turned him on, too. And now he needed to get a grip. She’d gotten what she needed from him, and everything was back to how it had been. He had to trust her in matters of business, but that didn’t mean he had to hand over anything else, including his heart.

He put on a gray suit with a pale-blue tie, musing at its color, the similarity it bore to the color of her eyes. Then he sighed, slipped on a pair of gloves, and traveled through the Veil and into the Psychopomps tower, arriving in the waiting area of Aislin’s office suite. Her door was open, but as he took a step toward it, her voice was not the one he heard. Hugh Ferry strode out, wearing the Scope of the Charon, furiously dressing down a cowering assistant, a fleshy young man with freckles and curly red hair. “When did she say she would get here?” he snapped.

“M-m-momentarily,” the assistant stammered, then pulled up short with round eyes as he spotted Moros.

“Moros,” Hugh said, surprise in his tone. “To what do we owe this honor?”

Moros adjusted his tie. “I was made aware that Aislin Ferry has called an emergency board meeting. And as this involves my interests, I decided it would be worth my while to attend.” He grinned at Hugh, showing his teeth. “I know I left our last encounter abruptly, but as you know, I had something important to attend to.”

Hugh swallowed and looked away, and Moros felt a shocking surge of anger on behalf of his sister. During their last meeting, Moros had made a clear lethal threat against “Nina,” as Nemesis had called herself. Hugh hadn’t heard from her since—Moros had made sure of that—and now the man was acting as if none of it had ever happened. Was he willing to forget his feelings so easily? Suddenly Moros couldn’t blame Nemesis for her cynicism about the world. Some people deserved to suffer.

“Well, I’m pleased you could make the time to attend,” said Hugh, sounding jittery. “Though Aislin doesn’t have the power to convene the board, they wanted to hear what she had to say before they finalize their decision.” He gave Moros a tentative smile and smoothed his hand over his widow’s peak. “It will be good if you’re there. Now that Aislin’s safe and sound, we can settle on her replacement. Then you and I can discuss how we’ll manage those Keepers, man to man, eh?”

Moros chuckled and slung his arm around Hugh’s shoulders, enjoying how the Ferry stiffened with fear. “Indeed, my friend. Shall we go?”

Laughing nervously, Hugh led the way to the elevator. Moros and the fleshy assistant followed. Every few steps, Hugh looked over his shoulder, as if he worried what Moros might be doing behind his back.
Wise,
Moros thought. They rode up together to the boardroom, and as they entered, Moros caught sight of Aislin standing by the long row of windows. She wore a pale-pink suit, and her platinum hair was drawn up in a neat twist. She looked breathtaking, though Moros would have expected no less. This was her armor, and no one wore it better. She was in conversation with Rosaleen—her aunt, if Moros remembered correctly—and the woman was listening intently as Aislin spoke.

Hugh strode to the head of the table, his hands fluttering at his sides until he clasped them together. “I think we’re all here, aren’t we?” he asked.

His son, Brian, gave Moros a suspicious look as he seated himself at the table. “Are these meetings open now?”

“Only if you plan to have a Charon at the end of it,” Moros said, settling himself into a chair and unbuttoning his suit coat. “But please. Proceed.”

Aislin stood at the opposite end of the table from Hugh as everyone else took a seat. Her icy gaze was riveted with a predator’s concentration on the ornate Scope of the Charon around Hugh’s neck. It only made Moros want her more.

Hugh gestured at Aislin. “We are grateful that you’ve returned,” he said to her. “When I received your letter of resignation, I was puzzled as to why you’d do something so impulsive.”

Aislin gave him a condescending smile. “I would have been puzzled, too, if I had been in your shoes. And I would have immediately assumed foul play.”

Hugh tugged at his collar. “Your letter of resignation was very clear.”

“But without a verifiable biostamp on the signature,” she said patiently. “I’m sure you checked.”

Hugh’s nostrils flared. “What did you come here to say, cousin?”

She gave him a look of mock surprise. “I’ve come to tell you where I was, of course, since you didn’t bother to search for me.”

“Are you saying you were kidnapped?”

“By Rylan,” she said. “He took my Scope. But I’m sure you had no idea he would ever do such a thing, did you?” She stared at him, calm and collected, and Moros smiled.

Hugh’s mouth dropped open as a few of the other board members looked at him with new suspicion. “You think I colluded with Rylan to steal your Scope? You must be joking.”

“Yes, given my habit of joking about completely serious things.” She looked at Rosaleen. “I was taken by Moros’s sisters, Eris and Nemesis, and his brother, Apate, the personifications of Strife, Vengeance, and Lies respectively. As you can imagine, they were happy to attempt to coerce me into using a very dangerous weapon against our colleague here.” She waved a hand at Moros but didn’t look at him.

“So you were to be the key to their nefarious plans?” Hugh bowed his head and chuckled, and it made Moros want to rip his throat out. “And where did they take you exactly?”

“I cannot tell you a precise location, as they are able to move through the Veil like Kere, but it appeared to be a large cavern.”

“But you can’t actually say where, and none of us has ever seen any of these immortals for ourselves,” Brian said. “That’s convenient.”

Hugh shushed his son. “Now Brian, Aislin has been through a trauma. It does funny things to a person.”

Aislin’s eyes blazed with cold fire. “Indeed it does, Hugh,” she said quietly. “I am fortunate to be alive and in my right mind.” Her gaze flitted to Moros for a moment, but then she went back to ignoring him.

“But how do we know you’re in your right mind now, Aislin?” asked Ciara Ferry, her red-and-silver hair messy. She looked like she’d been caught napping when she was summoned.

“If you wish to examine my mental status, you may, but I’d prefer to discuss our next steps, now that we know a bit more about how our enemies plan to strike.”

“Is there really a weapon that could kill the Lord of the Kere?” asked Ennis Ferry.

“Don’t look so eager, old friend,” Moros said with a tight smile. “It could kill you just as easily.”

Ennis slid back a few inches, glowering at Moros, with his hands laid protectively over his round belly.

“It’s a sword,” said Aislin, drawing everyone’s attention back to her, commanding the room. “Not only can it be used against Moros, but also Chaos, should he rise. And, I assume, it would also be lethal to Eris, Apate, and Nemesis?”

Moros nodded. “Though Nemesis is no longer a threat. I have eliminated her.” He turned to Hugh. “My condolences, dear Hugh. But I’m sure you’re happy to be back in
your
right mind now that I’ve reduced her to dust.”

“What?” he sputtered. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Moros tilted his head. “Don’t you? Blonde curls, gray eyes, enviably lovely, with a fondness for synthetic leather . . . No? Nothing?”

Ennis’s bushy white eyebrows were nearly at his hairline. “Was that the woman I saw you with at Lombo’s the day before Patrick was killed?”

“Didn’t I see her in your office last
week
?” asked Ciara.

Aislin arched an eyebrow. “I’m afraid I also interrupted Hugh with her just yesterday. At a highly embarrassing moment.”

Brian set his elbows on the table and covered his face with his hands. “Not again, Father,” he said with a groan.

Hugh was shaking his head, but then he glanced at Moros and realization suddenly kicked in. “Nina?” he whispered.

“Oh, yes,” said Moros. “Your lady mistress was the personification of Vengeance. You were so fully primed, though, that you made her job easy, didn’t you?”

Every gaze in the room was on Hugh, whose face was getting paler by the minute. “But I . . .”

“Plotted against our Charon?” Rosaleen asked. “From where I sit, it’s sounding more likely by the second.”

“But I-I only—”

“Did you share our confidential dealings with that . . .
creature
?” Ennis barked. “Once again, boy, you let the smaller of your two heads lead the way.” He gestured contemptuously at Hugh’s pants. “Someone strip that Scope off his neck. He’s not fit to wear it. He’s not fit to be on the board, for that matter.”

Moros wanted to laugh. These Ferrys were quick to turn on each other, but in this case, it was completely justified.

“None of you should be so hasty to judge him,” Aislin said gently, interrupting the low, angry muttering of the board.

Moros swiveled in his chair to stare at her, stunned. She’d been so close to victory, and suddenly she was laying down her sword?

“The moment she touched you, it was all so compelling, wasn’t it?” she continued, sounding haunted. “All the ways I hurt or slighted you, all the things I have that were rightfully yours, how your skill and intelligence has never been recognized. She brought it all to the surface and then showed you how you could bring me down.”

“How . . . how did you know?” Hugh asked, his fingers gripping the table.

“Because they did it to me, too, while they had me in their clutches. It was like torture.”

Hugh nodded eagerly. “You’re right,” he said, staring at her gratefully. “It
was
like torture.”

Moros nearly scoffed. He’d seen the memories in Hugh’s head, and the only thing that had resembled torture had been Hugh’s fantasies of Aislin being torn apart by Shade-Kere.

And here she was—showing mercy to this piece of human garbage?

“Now that you’re free of it, you see things clearly, don’t you?” she asked Hugh with a soft smile.

“I do,” he said, looking around at the rest of the board. “I definitely do. I’m no longer under her terrible influence.”

Aislin slowly walked around the table, her fingertips trailing along the back of each board member’s chair. Her face seemed lit from within, ethereal and lovely. “I know, Hugh. I know. I’m so glad to have you back.” Aislin reached her cousin and placed her hand on his arm. “Especially now that you realize you never should have challenged my position, particularly not at this crucial time.”

Hugh froze midnod.

“You understand that I have a job to do,” she said. “One that I am well prepared for. You understand that I have the support of the Lord of the Kere.” She looked over briefly and gave Moros a small knowing smile that sent his blood rushing south. “And you understand that the best thing to do now is to allow me to get on with it, don’t you?”

She held out her palm.

Hugh blinked down at her hand, looking like he’d been clubbed over the head. Moros couldn’t blame him in the slightest; he felt the same way.

“Get on with it, Hugh,” said Ennis impatiently. “We have work to do.”

His hands trembling slightly, Hugh unfastened the Charon’s Scope from the chain around his neck and handed it to Aislin. She patted his arm. “Thank you for keeping it safe for me,” she said, her voice lilting and kind.

“Of course,” Hugh replied. “It was an honor.”

“I know.” She pulled a delicate chain from under her collar and clipped the Scope to its setting. Moros grinned. She’d anticipated this outcome all along.

She was now standing next to Hugh at the head of the table, and even though her cousin was several inches taller, he seemed to fade into the background as she addressed the board. “I have reports that the Shade-Kere have, for the time being, left the city. Declan is leading the emergency response and coordinating with law enforcement.”

“Who created those things?” Ennis asked.

Aislin gave Moros an uneasy look. “Eris and her allies. I have instructed my assistant to send a message to all Ferrys in the field, to let us know if they reappear anywhere else in the world. We need to respond rapidly to any additional attacks to keep the fabric of fate from unraveling further.”

“It feels like we’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop,” said Ciara.

Aislin nodded. “I agree, but I have a plan to change that.” She explained her intention to go to the Lucinae realm and negotiate with them for access to the Spring of Life, so that new weapons could be created. “With such weapons, we could eliminate the Shade-Kere, which right now can only be disabled—until they are killed by Moros directly.”

Moros nodded, though he couldn’t quite imagine the Mother, the leader of the Lucinae, would allow them to build an actual arsenal, and maybe that was good. More blades might help—but it also might result in more death—including his death—if they fell into the wrong hands.

“I’ll leave tonight,” Aislin announced. “As soon as the arrangements have been made with Cavan. I will return in time for our meeting with the Keepers, and in the meantime, I would like Aunt Rosaleen to manage business, with particular attention to maintaining order both within the city and the world markets. Does anyone have an objection to the plan?” She stared at Brian, who put up his hands and shook his head. Everyone else was doing the same, including Hugh, standing impotently at her side. Next to him, she was luminous. A goddess.