I moved two whole steps before my feet left the ground.
Arthur's arm was around my waist, hoisting me up, my back against his chest.
"Calm down," he whispered in my ear, his deep voice firm and calm.
It took a moment for me to get my head under control. Pushing back my magic's urge to lash out was difficult, but Arthur's powerful presence steadied me. I took a deep breath. My senses were still attuned to the pulse of people around me, but they were slowly turning into background noise.
I could now think. And I could smell Arthur's blood. My eyes swung down. One of my hands was gripping my sword, the other dug its nails in Arthur's forearm, drawing blood. I snatched my hand off him like it burned. Guilt pinched my heart.
As I watched, his skin smoothed over the punctures that my nails had made. But the droplets of blood were still staining his skin. Arthur kissed my temple.
Deep breaths. In and out. My mind cleared up and a couple of minutes later, my heart settled.
"Okay, let go," I said.
"Are you calm?"
"Yes."
"Sure?"
"Yes, damn it," I snarled. That did not sound calm. But Arthur chuckled and lowered me to the ground. We had attracted quite a bit of attention from immortals and humans alike. Great.
Noah and Marianno looked impassive, as if me almost losing control was an everyday occurrence. I surely hoped not.
But Noah's eyes swirled with amber, the three scars marking his face standing out sharply against his skin, and my magic sensed his wolf close to the surface. Not for the first time since I met him, I wondered about the story behind those scars.
Arthur kept his hand on my back, heavy and warm. "Marianno, are you certain?"
"Yes," Marianno nodded. "It happened when you introduced Elle. His thought patterns were already odd when he stopped to speak with us. Mentioning Elle pushed the memories to the forefront of his mind. I didn't get the gist of it, but Martin Malone was definitely there."
"He looked so calm," I mumbled. That went to show that my people-reading skills were absolute crap.
"He was one of the few people I didn't get the chance to examine," Marianno added. "He went to great lengths to avoid me, now that I think about it."
"Hmm. I guess your talent has acquired a reputation."
"Too bad," Marianno said. "That will make things more difficult in the future."
"It was only a matter of time. You lasted long enough." Arthur turned to Noah. "Do you happen to know where Taro's rooms are? I don't wish to bother the human receptionists."
"I don't think they'll tell you, anyway," I said.
He raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't going to ask."
Right. I shook my head. We really needed to have a talk about some of his moral lines.
"I do know where he stays," Noah said. "Unfortunately, I won't be going with you."
"Why?" I asked.
"Conflict of interest," Noah turned his bright eyes my way. "His coven and my pack have some business together. It wouldn't look good if I was there when you torture him."
"Whatever makes you think we're going to torture him?" I said with a smile.
Yes, the thought of torturing someone involved in uncle Robert's murder made me giddy. Unhinged, I know.
Noah actually cracked a half smile before he turned around. "Eleventh floor, number 1125."
He walked out of the hotel.
"Won't it pose a problem if we just go barging in, throwing accusations?" I asked.
"You were about to slice him to pieces if I hadn't stopped you."
I frowned. "I wouldn't have sliced him to pieces." Maybe. Probably.
"Mhm." Arthur looked pointedly at the sword strapped to my hip. It was partly drawn. I cleared my throat and pushed the sword properly in its scabbard.
"Let's go," Arthur said. "I was intending on having a few words with Taro, anyway. Venus and I shared our dislike for the man even before the recent events. It's high time he learns his place."
We moved to the elevator. "Just because you don't like someone, doesn't mean you have the right to beat him into submission."
We entered the elevator. Marianno leaned against the inner wall and crossed his arms, looking amused.
"Of course I do," Arthur said. "Who can stop me?"
I rolled my eyes. "'Who will stop me?' isn't enough reason to do what you like."
"Why?"
"Because some things are just wrong," I said. The elevator doors opened. A couple stood shocked in front of the doors. Two witches. The male recovered first. He pulled his gaping lady into the elevator. The two witches bowed their heads and stood almost plastered against the side wall.
The elevator closed.
"Torturing someone to make them follow the rules isn't wrong," Arthur said. I glanced at the witches. They looked quite uncomfortable. So we were finishing the argument. Alrighty, then.
"Taro is getting a little too power drunk for my taste," he continued. "One would think he was starting to believe himself on par with the Five. I will do whatever I have to do in order to keep him, and anyone else, from becoming too arrogant."
"Pot, kettle," I mumbled right as the doors opened to our destination. As we left the elevator, I smiled at the couple. They looked a few shades paler. "Have a lovely night."
My urge to tear through the hotel, find Taro and make him spill everything he knew about Martin Malone must be clear on my face, because the couple did not smile back. They were frozen in place. Oh, well.
"What do you think, Marianno?" I asked, scanning the door numbers as we walked through the hallway. The nude carpet muffled our steps.
"Immortals are not humans, Elle," he said quietly. "You cannot apply human morals in our lives. If Taro forgets his place and thinks himself better than even the Five, there will be problems. Immortals need a bogeyman to stay in line."
"And the Five are it," I said.
"Yes."
I still had more to say on the subject, but my efforts to distract myself by the argument were no longer needed. The golden numbers gleamed against the dark wooden door.
1125
"Is he inside?" I whispered. Arthur nodded, knocked on the door and took a step back. I heard no movement inside. But my senses agreed with Arthur. There was someone in there.
"Open the door, Taro," Arthur said. "Or I will."
A few seconds later, the door swung open. Taro had ditched his suit jacket. He was in a white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and hair mussed up.
"To what do I owe the pleasure, Arthur?" he said, sounding anything but pleased.
Arthur cocked his head to the side, his face blank. His magic thickened in the air, making our bond buzz in delight and my own magic rush to the surface as if in response. Taro froze.
"Inside," Arthur said.
Jaw clenched, Taro walked into the room. We followed. Marianno closed the door behind us.
The space was a sitting room, with two couches, a sleek wooden table and a persian carpet. The gilded brown walls held two doors. The table held a glass of an amber liquid, and Taro's jacket was thrown carelessly over the back of a couch.
The witch stood behind the couch, tucking his hands in his pockets. The city lights sparkled in the large window behind him. "What is it? If you could hurry, I have other engagements."
Arthur plopped down on the couch, putting his ankle over the opposite knee and stretching his arms on the back of the couch. He didn't speak for the longest time. Marianno planted himself near the exit.
I wanted to get this over and done with quickly. I wanted to know exactly what Taro knew and how he was involved. But Arthur, apparently, had other ideas. He had more experience dealing with powerful immortals, so I put a leash on my eagerness and let him take the lead.
I sat on the arm of his couch and stared at Taro. He looked increasingly uncomfortable the longer Arthur went without speaking. He did not, however, meet Arthur's eyes for longer than two seconds.
After several minutes, Taro's face started turning red. I might not have enough experience to navigate the intricacies of immortal politics, but even I knew that Arthur was humiliating him. First, he barged into Taro's personal room without an invitation. Then he sat while Taro was standing. Then he ignored the man while making him squirm under his gaze.
I didn't give a damn about Taro's pride. But I was too restless to stay still. My knee bounced. I glanced at Arthur, he was still staring at Taro with a bored expression. I huffed, squirming in my seat.
This was the first good lead we had concerning Martin Malone. If I didn't find out what Taro knew within the next two minutes, I would pull my hair out.
Ugh... hurry up already!
A sliver of amusement traveled through the bond. I narrowed my eyes at Arthur. His eyes smiled. He swung his gaze to me, and the tension in the room broke. "Alright, my love. Why don't you do the honor?"
Fine. I turned to Taro. His color would soon turn prunish if we kept ignoring him.
I didn't know how to interrogate other people. At least, not with the finesse that situations such as this required. So I thought about how Amanda would have gone about this.
I came up blank.
Screw the finesse. I glared at Taro. "What do you know about Martin Malone?"
Arthur's chuckle was low, meant for my ears only. Taro blinked, his face screwed in a scowl.
"What everyone else does," he said, impatience coloring his voice. "What is this about? I don't have time for-"
"I don't give a damn if you have time or not," I snapped. "Do you know Robert Walsh?"
He did not like the way I spoke to him. Good. I kept my glare firmly in place and my eyes locked to his. If he expected me to look away first, he had another thing coming.
"Do not speak to me like this," he finally said through clenched teeth. "Who do you think you-"
Arthur sighed and switched his legs. Taro cut himself off.
"I really don't want to play any more games," I rose, pulling a knife from my thigh sheath. "Do you know who Robert Walsh is? Answer the damn question."
"Everyone does-"
"Then you must know that he disappeared about twenty five years ago," I said. Taro did not like my interruption. I trudged on. "He had taken me out of Ireland to America, raised me there until I was about fourteen when he died. Do you know who killed him?"
Taro raised his chin. "No."
I couldn't read him. I looked over my shoulder at Marianno. He cocked his head to the side, eyeing Taro.
"A lie," Marianno said. I sighed and looked at Taro.
"I thought your gift works only with physical contact," he said, speaking almost to himself. I didn't see Marianno's reaction, but Taro's face lost all color.
I could understand his fear. Having someone with Marianno's gift around was scary. To not have even the privacy of your own mind is a scary thing. But Marianno's ability was not what I cared about at the moment.
Taro knew. He knew that Robert Malone was the one who killed uncle Robert.
Only a few people did. Other than me, only Arthur, and whoever he told, knew. And he did not tell Taro.
If Taro knew, then he was involved. My magic wanted to lash out and lick the witch's skin with fire until he admitted his guilt.
"So you know that Robert Malone killed him," I said, taking a step closer and rolling my wrist. The dagger gleamed.
Taro's jaw clenched. After a couple of seconds, he gave a curt nod.
"How do you know?" I asked.
"I have nothing to do with it, if that's what you're wondering."
I growled. "Answer the damn question."
"Fine." He crossed his arms over his chest. "The scorpion squad- that's what Martin Malone called his group of mercenaries- did some work for the Witchcraft council around three decades ago. We used them frequently."
"You used mercenaries?" I asked, baffled. He was the head of the Witchcraft council, and he hired mercenaries?
He bristled. "Unlike the Five, we don't have armies at our disposal. Witches have smaller numbers compared to vampires. So, yes, we do hire mercenaries to work for us."
Well, someone was salty. Not that I cared right now. "Keep going."
"Like I said, I was in frequent contact with them. They always delivered, even though they were costly." He hesitated, his jaw working. Finally, he blew air through his nose. "Twenty years ago, someone contacted me in order to put them in touch with Martin Malone."
"Who is this someone?" I asked. He opened his mouth, closed it.
I played the dagger in my hand and waited. But patience was never my strong suit. "Are you going to tell me or do I have to cut it out of you?"
Taro snapped. His magic lashed out, a torrent of black fog surrounded him, spreading through the room. His lips curled in disgust. "Now listen here you little-"
"Finish that sentence, Taro, and you are dead."
Everything in the room froze. Ice crawled up the back of my neck.
Arthur did not raise his voice. He did not speak with a threatening tone or a raging expression. He was simply stating a fact. If Taro finished that sentence, he would die. It was that simple.
Taro's magic slowly dissipated. He regarded Arthur through shocked eyes. "I'm the head of the Witchcraft council. You would kill me for the woman holding your interest at the moment?"
"This woman is my mate," Arthur said.
Taro frowned, shook his head. "The Five don't have mates. It is only an honorary title for your consorts when you wish to have them recognized."
What?
"She's my mate," Arthur said.
I looked between the two men. Was I missing something here?
I looked at Arthur. "What does he mean, the Five don't have mates?"
*** **** ***
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