Venators: Promises Forged. Devri Walls

a story implicating himself?”

      That was an excellent question, but Rune hadn’t been forthcoming with what happened in that office.

      “I honestly don’t know,” Grey said. “Rune had something to do with it, but she wouldn’t go into detail.”

      “Really? Hmmm.” Tashara’s fingers drummed across the top of the chaise. “It seems Rune is more than she appears.” She sat like that for a moment, brows pulled together in thought, fingers drumming out a five-beat rhythm. Then she took a breath and continued. “The council is furious Dimitri acted alone, and so foolishly. Your attack on Cashel’s pack was sloppy, loud, and incomplete.”

      The word incomplete caught Grey, but she continued before he could ask for clarification.

      “In the past, Dimitri has always done what he wants, but recklessness is not in his nature. That alone has made a few suspicious. It’s imperative that you and Rune not do or say anything that would discredit Dimitri’s story—your act must be flawless. If you make the council members doubt Dimitri, he will ensure that neither you nor Rune ever makes a fool of him again.”

      The second death threat in five minutes. It was becoming par for the course. “Is the council angry at us or Dimitri?”

      “Both.” She smiled. “Ambrose never liked the idea of bringing Venators back, and she’s hell bent on proving she was right. Silen is on a rampage, furious that the heir got away.”

      “Beorn,” Grey said quietly.

      “Silen and his pack have been out hunting Beorn since yesterday, and the last thing he wants to see is a remorseful Venator mourning the loss of a human.”

      “Because humans are inconsequential.”

      “To Silen, yes. Dimitri’s story to the council did not include any orders to save any humans. But when it’s brought to light that it happened—and there are witnesses, so it will be—you must act indifferent to their loss. Your story must be that you decided to rescue the humans once you were already there. Your efforts failed. That is all.”

      At this, Grey lost it. “Oh, come on! After the way I acted in the dining hall? As soon as I brush it off like I don’t care, everyone will know it’s an act. It’ll only make them more suspicious.”

      “It would’ve.” She gave a rueful smile. “But Verida has been a busy little vampire, telling the council how very traumatizing the adjustment is from your world to ours. And in a very clever move on her part, she’s repeatedly reminded the council that as your Venator powers further manifest, your humanity will fall away. Turns out I may have underestimated her.”

      “My humanity will . . . What?” Panic bolted through Grey. “Is that true? I could lose it?”

      “Lose what . . . ? Oh. Your humanity.” Tashara gave a dainty shrug. “I don’t know. But Verida claims to have already seen evidence of it on the way to the castle. A sudden change of character from you—if consistent, of course—will be a relief to the council and verification of Verida’s claims, nothing more.”

      Grey’s shoulders sunk, and he let out a deep sigh, sounding as weary as he felt. Free, he was not. But Tashara had presented an option that included life while still retaining who he was—at least part of the time. “What do you want me to do?”

      “That’s more like it.” She crooked a finger. “Come here.”

      Rolling his eyes at the theatrics, Grey obeyed, moving in front of her.

      “Stand up straight. Shoulders back. Good. Those pesky emotions are still written all over your face. Find a place inside to hide them.” She continued on by explaining how this was to be done. But Grey was well acquainted with such a place, and he shoved everything away, leaving a cool, indifferent mask. She stopped, blinking. “Well . . . you made that look easy.”

      “Yeah, well—it’s not like I haven’t had to do it my whole life.”

      “Hmmm, so it seems. Now, today you could be hit with anything. Be prepared at all times.” She swung her legs around without warning and stood. Her body slithered up his.

      Grey’s mouth went dry at the contact, but he forced himself not to react.

      “Very good.” Tashara watched him intently. “You’re getting it.”

      The door flew open.

      “Grey, we need to . . .” The sentence trailed off. Tate froze in the doorway. The firelight in the sconces glistened off the puckered white scars on his neck, making them shine even brighter against his blue skin.

      “What?” Rune’s voice came from behind Tate. “What’s wrong?” She poked her head into the room. “Oh.”

      Tashara didn’t look in Tate’s direction. Nor did she make any effort to put space between her and Grey.

      “Grey,” Tate said. “Are you—?”

      “Of course the boy’s all right.” Tashara patted Grey’s cheek. “Look at the color in his face.”

      Grey felt a subtle pull of succubus energy.

      Tashara’s eyes widened, and she jerked back, rubbing her hand against the side of her dress. “Do forgive me, but I must go.” She turned, hesitated, then stretched up on her toes to whisper in Grey’s ear. “I find myself suddenly famished.”

      During their first encounter, she’d promised not to flex her magic or feed off him. If she wasn’t using him, that meant someone else was in danger. Anxiety escaped the weak façade he’d just finished erecting.

      “Grey, Grey, Grey.” She tsked softly, lowering from the balls of her feet. “Your concern is showing. Do better.” Tashara sauntered away.

      Rune’s suspicious gaze followed the succubus’s every step on her way to the open door.

      But Tate was more concerned with Grey, staring him down like a disappointed parent. When Grey refused to offer any sort of explanation, Tate’s lips flattened into a thin line. “Fine. We will be training outside.”

      Grey didn’t move. The thought of setting foot outside this room after the information he’d just received triggered an unexpected cascade of fight-or-flight endorphins . . . with a heavy preference on flight.

      Tate’s eyebrow cocked at Grey’s inaction. “I said outside.”

      The persona isn’t permanent. Just a temporary fix to keep me alive.

      He could do this. He had to do this.

      Grey threw his shoulders back, sucked in a mouthful of air, and raised his chin. His emotions went underground. And just like before, he wrapped himself in a faux persona. Instead of acting withdrawn, like he did on earth, he pushed out confidence. Instead of slouching, he stood tall. Instead of hiding his concern beneath a waterfall of hair, he shoved it down deep, where he hoped it couldn’t reflect in his eyes.

      GIVE UP THE GHOST

      “Are you sure you’re all right?” Rune asked.

      Grey seemed . . . not himself.

      “Did Tashara do anything?”

      “I’m fine.”

      She looked around for signs of a struggle—because if Shax had been in her room, there would’ve been one hell of a fight.

      “Stop looking at my room like it’s a crime scene, Rune.”

      A wild hair of a thought grabbed her. “Did Tashara feed on you? You look different.”

      Grey scowled. “I know I look different. You keep bringing it up, and I’m tired of talking about it.”

      “I wasn’t talking