Masked Desire Read online

  She laughed. “I’ll do my best. What’s your practice called?”

  “Dolmatan. It promotes inner silence.”

  “I like that.” She moved into the room, closer to him and bringing the smell of tuberose in her wake. “I often think those of us born into earlier ages had more silence, more room for thought. I don’t think I’ve managed to outgrow that.”

  “Nor I. Although I remember London being loud, with the calls of the sellers and the eternal clacking of horses’ hooves.”

  “Wharves were always chaotic.” Michaela’s face was lost in memory. “I was a merchant and the docks were always deafening. Combined with the smell of the fish and the garbage people threw into the water, it made me nauseous.”

  “Really?”

  “Until I got used to it. Then it smelled like coming home, no matter where I was.”

  The kettle whistled from the kitchen and Michaela’s expression instantly reverted into her usual smooth mask. “Can you make the tea?” she asked. “I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”

  As a dismissal, it was clear enough, but he lingered in the door. Michaela stood with her hands on her hips, watching him in the long mirror that lined the wall. “The tea?” she repeated.

  Was she giving him orders like a servant? He settled against the wall, ready to contradict her when a flash from her eyes warned him to back off. For many long-lived arcana, meditation was a necessity to mentally process the demands of their many years. He shut the door behind him, feeling momentarily ashamed to have prevented her peace.

  He went to make the tea.

  Precisely twenty minutes later, Michaela came out with tidy hair and calm eyes. She took the cup he gave her with a nod of thanks and sipped. She sipped again, her eyebrows raised. “This is good.”

  Despite himself, he felt a rush of pleasure that she enjoyed it.

  Ridiculous. What did he care if she liked the tea?

  It was nice that she did, though.

  * * * *

  Although their discussion in her apartment had been polite enough, as Michaela started the car, she felt a barrier slam down between them. It had been difficult for her to get to sleep again last night. The memory of how he had leaned in towards her before they left the car had kept her tossing and turning all night. She’d wanted more.

  It was bizarre. She didn’t even like the man. Not only that, she’d seen his face when she’d shifted into Yuri. Under his initial shock was an expression she was used to seeing from other arcana—suspicion mixed with horror. The masquerada were too different from the rest of the arcana. She sniffed. Somehow vampires drinking blood was considered more normal.

  She passed a human in a BMW whose rude gesture stopped dead when he saw the glare Cormac gave him.

  Now. Just say the words.

  “You were right.” Unlike last night, this time she meant it. “I should have woken you. I’m not used to answering to another person about my whereabouts.”

  “Thank you.” He touched her hand and that simple gesture nearly skyrocketed her heartbeat. She pulled away, not comfortable with her reaction. “So. You were a vampire last night.”

  She didn’t take her eyes off the road. “You had pigeons. I didn’t know fey could summon animals like that.”

  “Fine. Let’s make a deal.”

  “Shall I buy a vowel?” She glanced over.

  His lip quirked. “Wrong show. Here’s what I suggest. We say nothing about last night, at all. That’s it. What happened will stay our secret.”

  “Agreed.” Her answer was so prompt that he laughed.

  “I’m not done yet. You tell me about taking on arcane masques. That’s not supposed to happen.”

  “There’s no rule against it.”

  “Then you won’t mind if I mention it to the other councilors.”

  She definitely would. “Then you need to tell me about the animals.” She stopped at a red light and faced him, waiting until he started to speak.

  “What do you know about the fey?”

  She turned back to the road, frowning slightly. “You draw energy from nature, I know that, and protect the forests you’re bonded to. Queen Tismelda’s court is said to be quite an experience, though she doesn’t welcome strangers.”

  “True enough. We can sense nature, but most are limited to the plants and animals that are individually located in their ancestral forests.”

  Michaela nodded. “I thought it was mostly trees.”

  “It is, for most. I’ve lived in the city for so long that the animals are used to me. They reacted to my anger but it was unconscious.” He shrugged. “There’s no more to it than that.”

  When she parked the car and made to get out, Cormac stopped her. “No, you don’t. You don’t get to leave when it’s time for my questions.”

  “I wasn’t done with my questions but I want out of the car.” Away from being close to him.

  “Fine. In my office.”

  “In the security room.” Since her own office was a crime scene.

  “No, Michaela. You have a team who will want to talk to you and interrupt us. Mine.”

  It made sense. It was a logical decision, Michaela told herself. Still, she didn’t like him ordering her around. “The boardroom.”

  Now he laughed. “You never give up, do you?”

  She smiled. “We’re agreed? The boardroom?”

  He shook his head, still smiling. “Agreed.”

  A small victory, but after last night, good enough.

  Chapter 9

  He wondered if she knew he’d lied about the pigeons. The garage was open on one side and the reflected morning sun from glass-fronted buildings was a mere ghost of the bright light that cut through the trees of his forest. He hated it. Much more scenic was Michaela walking in front of him. Her tight black pants hugged the curve of her ass and she’d wrapped a thick gray leather belt twice around her waist before knotting it. Seeing it made him think of untying it before slowly stripping her to her gorgeous skin.

  Cormac’s breath almost whooshed out. The thought of having Michaela Chui nude in front of him, those pale lips growing redder, combined with her rich perfume, almost leached the will out of him.

  If he wasn’t careful, that woman would have a power over him that would be unacceptable. He’d been alone for so long that his isolation had gone from a punishment to a necessity. To let another being into his heart was unthinkable. Good thing this wasn’t love. He only wanted to touch her. That was physical and it was completely acceptable.

  Apart from the extra security Michaela had posted at all the entrances, they met no one on the way to the boardroom. It gave him time to think about how he would handle the rest of her questions. He might want her, but he hadn’t decided on how much he trusted her. She might be angry with him, but Madden still had a heavy call on her loyalty. Better to keep it simple.

  The boardroom was empty and Michaela took the head seat. He hid a grin as she nodded him to the seat on her right, and instead sat on the table in front of her.

  “Ask away,” he said.

  A momentary look of dismay crossed her face as she realized that Cormac loomed over her. He deliberately leaned into her personal space and watched her struggle to not move back.

  He saw the slight quiver that presaged a shift. He moved back, fast. It was too early in the morning for him to have to face that hulk of a man. Yuri was someone best experienced after a few good pints at the pub.

  Michaela narrowed her eyes, then cleared her throat. “Pigeons?”

  “Still nature. Birds are animals.” He gave up the game and sat down in the chair. “Those men had probably been drinking. If they report they were attacked by a flock of birds in a back alley?”

  “Not the most reliable witnesses. The same as if they say they were attacked by a seven-foot-tall vampire.”
>
  He restrained the desire to shudder at that grotesque image. “Now you.”

  Her smile lit up her whole face. How had he ever thought her a statue? Michaela was a vibrant, elegant, incredibly desirable woman—when she was not Yuri or a vampire or god-knows-what. Then he considered her. It was more accurate to say this masque was a stunning woman. It might not have any resemblance to Michaela’s natural self.

  Damn it. Masquerada were confusing. No wonder no one liked them.

  “We’re not supposed to take on arcane masques and I didn’t. The masque I took on wasn’t an actual vampire. It was a human idea of a vampire.”

  “Semantics.” He moved an inch closer and her breath hitched. That little sound made his knees weak.

  She kept her composure. “Important differences. I needed to protect Ivy and I don’t want police sniffing around. Ivy had her eyes shut, so she’ll say she didn’t know who helped her and tell herself she was seeing things. What are the chances anyone is going to believe a group of drunk, high assholes who claim they lost a fight to a vampire?”

  Cormac laughed, picturing it. “Not many.”

  “It might stop them from attacking another lone woman.” Her mouth was a thin line. “One who might not have me around.”

  Cormac’s mood darkened. “I should have let the pigeons peck out the eyes of the lead one.”

  She shrugged. “He’ll probably lose the arm.”

  He grinned at her. “Aye. We understand each other.”

  “So it seems. About this.”

  “About other things.” He leaned over, forcing her to look up at him. Those tilted lashes would be his downfall. One more inch and they would be touching.

  Michaela pushed her chair back and away, no expression on her face but with a quick intake of breath she couldn’t quite cover.

  Cormac straightened up and mirrored her. “Michaela—”

  She didn’t look at him. “Time to work.”

  He cleared his throat. “Right. I was going to say that.”

  Exactly that.

  * * * *

  It took most of the morning to go over the evidence with the team. At the end, they all sat back glumly and gazed at the list of findings Michaela had jotted onto the whiteboard.

  “We have nothing,” said Michaela.

  “On the surface.” Anjali spoke grudgingly. “We need to dig more. You can’t slaughter a human in these offices and walk out. Whoever did this would have been covered in blood at the very least.”

  Michaela squinted at the ceiling, trying to avoid Cormac’s gaze. True to his word, he’d left the team alone to work, but she was sure she’d heard the gears grinding in his brain during the session. “We have no suspects. Everyone has an alibi. No security footage.”

  “The camera was down in the hallway near your office and the guard on duty was on cold medication. She fell asleep and didn’t notice a thing.” Anjali sounded wrathful. “I didn’t even think vampires caught colds.”

  “Nadia?”

  “That’s the one.”

  Michaela sighed. “No weapon. No evidence on the body.”

  Dev cleared his throat. “There may be one thing.” He seemed taken aback when every eye at the table twisted in his direction.

  “What?” Michaela prayed it would be along the lines of, Oh, I saw so-and-so coming out of your office covered in blood and forgot to mention it.

  “I thought I saw Hiro at a bar I go to the other night. He was with some arcana, which I thought was weird, since he didn’t really like us.”

  Anjali tilted her head. “You didn’t think this was important to mention, why?”

  “I didn’t think it was a big deal.” Dev wiggled his shoulders uncomfortably. “It was awkward.”

  “We understand,” said Michaela. Dev rarely spoke about his private life but she knew he had been outed involuntarily—it wasn’t something he would easily do to another. “Did he see you?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t even sure it was him. I thought I saw Madden with him, but that would have been weird since it’s not a vamp place. The night’s all a bit fuzzy.” He shrugged. “Beermosas.”

  “It’s probably nothing,” said Michaela, “but, Dev, I want you to investigate whether there were any more meetings between Madden and Hiro.”

  “Yessir.”

  Michaela rubbed her eyes. “The rest of you, keep working on it. I refuse to believe there was nothing. Ambassador Redoak and I need to go see Eric Kelton.”

  Cormac’s brows rose and he spoke for the first time. “The masquerada Hierarch? The one who mated a half-blood?”

  “Who is a wonderful woman and a friend.” Michaela spoke firmly. Many arcana disapproved of mixed relationships. It was best to make it clear where her loyalties lay right away to prevent insults or prejudice from the beginning.

  He smiled. “You know, myths of racial purity lead to stagnation. I couldn’t give two flying fucks about who’s in bed with whom.”

  “Good.”

  Cormac didn’t seem to be lying about meeting Eric’s mate, thought Michaela as they drove to a district of refurbished warehouse space near the lake. That was a relief. Eric and Caro were two of her closest friends, not that she had many.

  “I’ve met Eric a few times,” Cormac said.

  “What did you think?”

  “I’ve got the utmost respect for what he’s trying. You’re a very conservative race, the masquerada.”

  “Some of us.” In her kinder moments, she might consider calling Iverson’s stalwart followers conservative and uncreative instead of selfish, narrow-minded bigots. Luckily, she rarely felt so generous.

  “Pulling them kicking and screaming into the modern world has to be hard. We don’t have it so bad.”

  “The queen keeps the fey in line?”

  He laughed humorlessly. “There is that, but we can also go back to our forests in the Queendom and escape the human world. You can’t.”

  “We share the world and have a responsibility to live in it.”

  “Thanks, Madame Morals. How’s that working out for you?” He didn’t wait to see the face she pulled. “Eric must have unlimited patience combined with balls the size of a building.”

  She’d heard her Hierarch described many ways, but not like that. “You can talk to him about that yourself. We’re here.”

  Michaela led them into the warehouse building and turned at his sigh of relief. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “It’s always good to have trees nearby,” he said simply. He waved his hand at the old timber interior.

  What? “It’s wood, not trees. Dead trees, ones that have been cut down in their prime. Shouldn’t this feel like a tomb?”

  Cormac hovered his hand over a glossy pine bannister without touching it. “It should—but it doesn’t. They still contain an element of their life force.”

  “They aren’t angry about being cut?”

  He laughed. “Trees aren’t people. They don’t think of it like that. Yes, they prefer to be in the forest, but they are existing here.”

  “I don’t understand. Either you’re alive or dead.”

  “Not for a tree.”

  Before they could continue this, a man’s voice called Michaela’s name from the top of the stairs. Her body relaxed. “Stephan!”

  He came down and they bowed to each other. Over the past few months, their friendship and respect had deepened, but Michaela was still not the huggy type. She turned to Cormac. “Ambassador Cormac Redoak, meet Stephan Daker, the Hierarch’s Chief of Staff.”

  Stephan nodded. “Ambassador. Friends of Michaela are welcome here.”

  “We’re not friends.” Michaela felt her smile fade. “Cormac and I are working together on a security issue.”

  “Does it have to deal with the masquerada?” Stephan demanded.
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br />   “Possibly.”

  Stephan’s next look at Cormac was several degrees cooler. “I see. Pharos business.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean. It’s Council business,” she corrected. Stephan always tried to catch her out.

  The tall masquerada gave a heavy sigh. “Worth a try. Well, come on.”

  Chapter 10

  Cormac wasn’t surprised when Michaela sidestepped the truth and that Stephan didn’t press her. It was Pharos Council business, but since Michaela was also a member of Eric’s own masquerada council, her phrasing kept it ambiguous. To keep them from being unduly pressured, Pharos members were meant to be totally secret, even from their own rulers.

  That didn’t mean that the brighter rulers didn’t have their suspicions. However, suspicions were not confirmation, and Pharos members took care to keep their work concealed.

  Michaela didn’t bother to answer Stephan. “Is Caro coming?”

  “She’ll be a few minutes late, but Eric’s almost ready. Tom wants to talk to you, though. Says you texted.”

  Michaela turned to Cormac. “Tom Minor is the Hierarch’s security chief and an expert in information security. I consult him when our High Council has questions.”

  High Council. That meant the masquerada, not Pharos.

  Stephan’s phone beeped and he checked the screen. “Follow me.”

  Eric’s office was exactly what Cormac would expect from the human CEO of a successful tech company, which was how Eric portrayed himself to the rest of the world. How the man found time enough—or even the inclination—to take on so much work was beyond Cormac.

  Then again, he thought, catching sight of Eric behind his desk, the Hierarch was a different beast than the fey, who were a more passive group in general. Others, such as the witches or the masquerada, even the weres, had to deliberately activate their power. They had to choose to cast a spell, or choose to take on a masque or were form. Fey energy came from the dolma, and was best achieved by simply being one with the environment. That’s not to say that the fey were not a conniving bunch of schemers. They were, to a fault, yet their energy was more specifically focused. The masquerada ability to take on different masques, to become others, struck him as a huge waste of time. Why not focus on exploring the unlimited potential of oneself? Or, for many of his compatriots, the benefits to oneself?