Jane Kindred - Seducing The Dark Prince

They’d scented someone now, it seemed, and even from this distance, Lucien thought he heard their victory hoots as the phantom storm that followed them swallowed up their victim and they disappeared into the night, leaving it calm and warm.

He’d have to find out more about this Leo Ström. The man was involved with Theia’s twin, Rhea, which could mean anything in terms of unnatural origin. It might even be Rhea’s own magic animating him. It was unlikely she’d created the revenant herself, since the long dead were nearly impossible to give a convincing living appearance to, no matter how much magic the practitioner had. So perhaps she’d taken possession of a revenant created by some other unnatural power. And Lucien just happened to have access to information on any of a number of unnatural powers.

He stashed his gear and changed into something more appropriate. People might talk if he showed up at Polly’s dressed like a cat burglar.

* * *

Polly was entertaining in her booth when Lucien walked in. Aware of her out of the corner of his eye, he made a point of not glancing in her direction, knowing it would drive her crazy. His ploy worked, and in less than five minutes, she’d ditched her patrons and sauntered over to the bar where he stood waiting for his drink.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” She lifted her drawn-on nearly crimson brows with a little smirk as she leaned back against the bar beside him and raised her voice for the bartender’s benefit. “Whatever he’s having, it’s on the house.”

Lucien put down a twenty as the craft beer arrived. “That’s sweet, but I’ve got it covered.”

Polly pushed the bill across the slick wood toward the bartender. “That’s a tip.”

Lucien sipped his beer. “You’re such a control freak.”

“I like to treat my friends well.”

“Oh, we’re friends now?” Lucien turned to mimic her stance, elbows back against the bar.

Polly flipped her cherry-red hair over her shoulder, nails painted a dazzling sapphire blue. “Well, maybe frenemies.”

“Seems fair.”

“So what brings you back to my neck of the woods?”

“Edgar does.” He always used his father’s first name, never calling him Dad or Pop. “Smok Biotech is partnering with Northern Arizona University on a new venture. He sent me to supervise.”

“That doesn’t explain what you’re doing in Sedona. NAU is in Flagstaff.”

“I know where it is.” Lucien took a swig of his beer. “Went to a wedding.”

Polly’s eyes sparkled with interest. “The Diamante wedding? Lucky you. Those invitations were highly coveted.”

Lucien shrugged. “I didn’t say I was invited.”

Polly laughed. “Of course you weren’t. So you crashed the quetzal’s wedding and now you’re slumming at my joint. Who are you after?”

“Who says I’m after anyone?”

Crimson waves swayed as she shook her head. “Darling, don’t grift a grifter.”

He finished his beer and set the bottle on the bar. “What do you know about the Wild Hunt?”

Polly pushed away from the bar and grabbed his hand, drawing him with her through the jostling patrons trying to get the bartender’s attention. The joint was hopping tonight.

She led him to her booth, where the patrons she’d ditched were still waiting. “Meeting’s over, boys. I’ll get back to you when I hear anything.”

The two pale twentysomething men with slicked-back blond hair shrugged and scooted out of the booth.

One of them frowned and hung back as she slid onto the seat. “Don’t make us wait too long. The consequences may be dire.”

“Stop being so dramatic, Kip.”

Lucien sat on the bench. “Kip?”

Polly grinned. “Preppy vampires turned in the ’80s. Eternally embarrassing.” She gestured to one of her staff, presumably ordering a bottle of something. “So why do you want to know about the Hunt?

“Because I saw it tonight. And unless I’ve been doing way too much molly, it’s May, not December.”

“You saw it?”

“Why does that surprise you?”

The woman she’d signaled arrived with a bottle of wine and poured them each a glass, despite Lucien shaking his head.

“Generally, only someone who’s a target of the Hunt is treated to that sight.” Polly sipped her wine with a curious lift of her brow. “Have you been very naughty, Lucien?”

“No naughtier than usual. Why is the Hunt still in town at this time of year?”

“What makes you think I’d know?”

Lucien played with the rim of his glass. “Pols. You make it your business to know everything of interest—everything paranormal—that happens in the entire Southwest. Information is your business. Are you really going to make me pay for it? After what we’ve meant to each other?”

Polly laughed, her eyes twinkling in the wavering light of the candle on the table. “Don’t push it, Hellboy.”

“Ouch. Below the belt.”

Beneath the table, the pointed toe of her shoe stroked the side of his leg. “Best location.”

He moved his leg, and she uncrossed hers and crossed them the other way.

“But in the interest of our continued frenmity, I’ll tell you what I’ve heard.” She paused to top off her glass. “Last winter, the Hunt blew into town to deal with some riffraff, and the leader of the Hunt struck some kind of a deal that let him remain in the mortal realm indefinitely. Word is, it’s because of—”

“Rhea Carlisle.”

Polly tipped her glass toward him. “The quetzal’s sister-in-law, yes. And today you crashed the quetzal’s wedding. I take it Leo Ström is the reason.”

“One of a couple of reasons.” Lucien swirled the wine in his glass, thinking about Theia’s large eyes. And the way she’d held on to his arms after he’d saved her from choking.

“And would another of those reasons be Rhea Carlisle’s identical twin?”

Lucien glanced up, caught off guard. “Why in the world would you say that? I just met her today.”

Polly shook her head knowingly. “Those Carlisle women have a way of getting under a man’s skin. I’d be careful of that one if I were you. She’s deceptively humdrum.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She’s very normal.” Polly said the word as though it were a terrible insult. “Very sweet. People think of her as the least talented of the bunch, but I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near her with a secret I didn’t want found out.”

It was a warning he’d be wise to pay heed to.

“As for Ström, he used to come in here with a redhead years ago. A real redhead.” She grinned and flipped her hair. “Not like me.”

“And?”

“And apparently she’s a rogue Valkyrie. A couple of regulars knew her—also Valkyries—and didn’t care much for her.”

That was the missing piece. The Valkyrie must have been the one to create the revenant. And somehow she’d made a deal with Rhea Carlisle.

* * *

Full of mango lassi and sweet Kashmiri naan, Rhea wasn’t interested in reading an old man’s treatises about the history of the Covent written in longhand. Which suited Theia just fine. Alone, she wouldn’t have to hide what she was looking for. She drove Rhea back to her car before heading to Phoebe’s place with Rafael Diamante Sr.’s archives.

Puddleglum, Phoebe’s Siamese tabby, curled up with her in the guest bed while she pored over the materials, looking for anything about the Smok family. As she turned the pages, she noticed a peculiar effect when she lingered on an entry: the text on the page began to shift beneath her touch. Rafe hadn’t mentioned anything about magically enhanced pages, but here it was. Like clicking a magical hyperlink to load a page of related content, touching a reference in the text made the copy on the page transform into the detailed document to which Diamante referred. When she lifted her finger off the page, it returned to the original journal entry.