Under A Voodoo Moon (Darkin World Book 4)

Chapter Three

Gideon watched from the deep shadows of an alcove. Before him, the woman he met seven months ago danced as she tested the sound and lights. It was as if rainbows and music erased her earlier sadness.

When he'd seen that single tear, it'd taken nearly all the will power Gideon possessed to stay where he was. He wanted to know who'd made Remi cry so he could destroy them. If it were Trystan, then it'd be a case of justifiable homicide.

Was Remi still with him?

Shaking his head, Gideon spun on his heel and walked down a tunnel hidden from Remi Dixon by one of the arch's pillars. As with the rest of the underground domain of Axel Moreau, it was poorly lit. However, with his beast-heightened senses, it was easy enough for him to find his way.

The club's owner was a shady businessman. Axel was a man of loose morals and questionable character. Gideon, when he ran the network of shifter loners, had come to the underworld boss now and then for solutions to his problems. The man knew far too many of Gideon's secrets, something the shaman never let him forget.

That Moreau had a human working at La Vie d'Paris was worrisome. The shady shaman never did anything without an ulterior motive. Gideon needed to find a way to watch over Remi tonight, surreptitiously repay her for saving him back in May. The club would be filled with all manner of creature from the races. It wouldn't be a safe place for a human to be, especially on New Year's Eve when the mood for celebration and supernatural antics were high.

Taking a right, then left at the next intersections, Gideon came to a familiar door at the end of a long corridor. Pausing before it, he made out two muffled, yet recognizable male voices. One was Axel Moreau. The other was the shifter king's father-in-law, Aeddon Darkin.

"I wouldn't think a witch would willingly do a shifter's bidding," Axel's deep voice taunted. Most shaman were stuck-up, egotistical pricks. The owner of La Vie d'Paris was different. He had no problem going low for monetary gain or personal amusement.

"When said shifters and I have similar goals, why not?" Aeddon rejoined.

"And what would those 'goals' be?" Axel poked.

Gideon rapped on the door twice, then entered. The less Axel knew about the male witch, the better. The dark features on the nightclub owner's face smoothed, became less intense. But his bottle glass, blue eyes were hard. They held a calculating glint.

"I do hope everything is ok in the States," Axel said with false concern.

Aeddon caught Gideon's eye, then he slightly shrugged his shoulders. He hadn't let anything slip while Gideon was gone.

"As well as can be expected," Gideon answered cautiously. He'd taken a phone call from Wolfrick Jaeger - the shifter king - above ground. Cell service was spotty at best in the catacombs. Wolf had wanted an update on their search for the demon who'd been plaguing their race for decades.

The blond, male witch grunted. He likely wanted information on his daughter, Wolfrick's mate. But he knew now was not the time to ask, not with the wily shaman listening.

"So," Axel leaned back in his chair and laced fingers behind his head. "What was it you needed from me?"

Here they had to be careful. They'd hit a snag in tracking an incubus, or rather the man he'd possessed. The demon was sealed in Hell, but some of those seals – humans – had been "broken" during the apocalypse. The barrier that kept demons where they belonged was tied to human DNA. If you killed off a bloodline, the seal was broken. As a result, Hell was able to influence those on earth more easily.

"What can you tell us of a shaman who uses a cape made of many skins?" Gideon prodded.

That got Axel's attention. Unlacing his fingers, the shaman straightened his spine. Realizing he'd given much away with his reaction, he resumed his original pose. But when he spoke, Moureau didn't deny knowledge of the cape. "It is evil, an abomination." His forcefully whispered words boomed in the office.