Home > River Cast (The Tale of Lunarmorte #2)(42)

River Cast (The Tale of Lunarmorte #2)(42)
Author: Samantha Young

She shook her head frantically. “No, I’m not sure. But Mordecai was very interested in Jaeden, and then I overheard him and Marita discussing Jaeden’s ‘abilities’ before they bugged my room. They kept mentioning your abilities in relation to the fact that the ‘children weren’t reacting in any way’.”

“It’s true,” Lucien added in a defeated voice.

“And you think it’s because she knows about my telekinetic abilities?” Jaeden asked angrily.

“She has trace,” Lucien replied.

She has trace, yes, but not like mine. She tapped into Jaeden’s trace to find out what she was up to – the illegal rogue hunting. When there, she must have found out that Jaeden had telekinetic abilities because Ethan had tortured her.

The mention of her trace, however, made Caia’s heart pump rapidly. “Guys, Marita is keeping tabs on everyone close to me.”

Ryder frowned. “What do you mean?”

“She told me her trace isn’t like mine. It’s not as advanced.”

“There’s a surprise,” Jaeden muttered teasingly.

“No, this is bad, people, very bad. To find someone in Daylight Marita has to tap into that person specifically. She’ll be watching me, through you. I had Lucien on alert, he’s blocking himself from her, but I didn’t think about you guys.”

Laila’s delicate eye brows puckered into a frown. “What does this mean?”

“No!” Lucien shot out of his chair, his eyes filled with worry. “She knows!”

Caia had to fight with herself not to cry in frustration as she nodded jerkily.

“What?” Ryder and Jaeden were panicking. “What does she know?”

“We have to believe that Marita knows, through you two, about my plans to go to the Council,” Caia explained. “I can’t wait around for their next meeting.” She turned to Vil who suddenly looked flustered by the attention. “Vil, you have to take me to Alfred Doukas now.”

“What, Caia, wait.” Lucien crossed the room to her, taking her by the arm. She felt his grip on her tighten, his eyes boring into her with fear. “That could end up being a trap. I won’t let you risk it.”

“Who is Alfred Doukas when he’s at home?” Jaeden asked.

Caia peered around Lucien to answer her, “He’s a Council member I met at the Center. We hit it off.”

“Caia.” Lucien shook her. “Please, don’t do this.”

She reached up to wrap a hand around his neck, drawing him down to place a soft kiss on his lips. “I have to,” she whispered as she pulled away.

“What if I say no?”

“Lucien. You know this is our only plan now. Think of the pack. If Marita knows, she could hold the whole pack as traitors to the Coven.”

“Then I’m going with you.”

“You can’t. Vil hasn’t even tried travelling with one other person before.”

“All the more reason for you not to do this.”

“Stop thinking like my mate and start thinking like this pack’s Alpha.”

He growled in frustration and jerked away from her to make his way over to Ryder, who placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Vil, are you ready to do this?” she asked, trying to appear as calm as possible. Inside she felt as if all her nerves had snapped and her body was barely holding it together. This was it, this was really happening, she was really going to do this.

The Traveller had gone as sickly-looking as she felt, but he nodded determinedly. He glanced around at everyone staring at him and tried to shrug it off as he turned to Laila, cupping her face in his hands. “I’ll be right back for you, I promise.”

Laila smiled sweetly at him and reached up to press a kiss on his lips. “I’m proud of you,” she whispered back.

Caia held her hand out to him and he reluctantly let go of his girlfriend and strode towards her, enfolding his cool hand in hers.

“Good luck, Cy,” Jaeden offered quietly.

She nodded gratefully and squeezed Vil’s hand. “Ready, partner.”

“Alfred Doukas?”

“The very one.”

Vil blew out his breath between his lips, readying himself. “OK-”

“Wait!” Lucien snapped. He looked ready to bust someone apart. “You better get back here pronto or I will kill you.”

She grinned at him, trying to appear confident. “I love you too.”

His face, along with the rest of the room, suddenly streamed past her in a blur of color and movement, her stomach plummeted, and she felt as if she had no control over her body. The only thing she could feel was the tight grip of Vil’s hand. And then it stopped just as abruptly as it had begun, and she found herself losing balance and falling into Vil’s arms.

“Are you OK?” he asked frantically.

She shook her head trying to clear it and clambered to straighten up. When she did she heard the gasps and the spluttering coming from behind them. Vil tensed, and Caia turned around in his arms to face Alfred Doukas, and what she imagined must be his family. He sat at the head of a grand dining table. Men, women and children sat around it with him, eating their dinner. She barely registered the expensive but old-fashioned decor of the room because Alfred Doukas was gaping at her like a fish out of water.

“What... who...” a plump woman at the opposite end of the table was throwing down her napkin, glaring at Caia and Vil as if they were vagabonds.

“Mr. Doukas.” Caia rushed forward and he pushed away from the table, his face creased in concern.

“Miss Ribeiro... what on Gaia’s earth...?”

“Please, Mr. Doukas, I must speak with you alone.”

Seeming to understand the urgency, he assured his family everything was alright, and led Caia out of the dining room and down a dark wood-paneled hallway to his study. He turned on her as Vil shut the door behind them.

“What is going on?”

Here goes nothing.

“Mr. Doukas, I need you to call an emergency meeting of the Council. Now.”

He paled. “Why?”

“Because I mean to ask them for the right to run against Marita for Head of the Coven.”

He stumbled back, his hand going to his forehead, his eyes disbelieving. “You can’t be serious.”

Please believe me, please.

“I am quite serious. I believe that Marita is no longer the right person for the job. Please, I’ll explain everything... to all of you.”

“Her family have been Coven Heads for four generations. They are the Heads because her great-grandmother uncovered the treacherousness of the previous Head. You will have a hard time convincing the Council that someone of her illustrious family name isn’t cut out for the job?”

“This is extremely important. Please, I will explain...”

He gazed at her sternly for what seemed like forever and then he nodded. “Fine. It best be now before Marita catches wind of it.”

Shrugging up the sleeve of his jacket, Alfred pressed one of the tiny buttons on his watch and it made a beeping noise. He looked up to find Caia and Vil gazing at him quizzically. “The watch was made in magik. All of the Council members have one. When one of us wishes to meet we press this button and the others’ watches beep to signal the request.”

Caia was impressed. “The CIA would love that.”

Alfred chuckled nervously. “Yes well, they have their own little gadgets.”

Before Caia could reply the room began to fill up with magiks she had never met before. Penelope appeared beside Alfred and she smiled at Caia in acknowledgement. The others glared and frowned at her and Vil.

“What is the meaning of this?” One tall, elegant, male magik strode past her to Alfred.

“Is this everyone?” Alfred searched the room. There were nine of them, including Alfred and Penelope. “Very well, ladies and gentleman I’ve called you here par the request of this young lady.” He gestured to Caia. She felt their attention on her like burning coals under her feet. She hopped back to distance herself from them. The power emanating from them all together was unlike anything she had ever encountered. These people were strong and old. And they meant business. The nine of them filed into a line in front of Alfred’s desk.

“Is this who I think it is?” a waifish female asked, her sharp eyes drinking Caia in with fascination.

“This is Caia Ribeiro, yes.”

A murmur rippled through them like one. It was really quite disconcerting.

“And why do you wish to see us, Miss Ribeiro?” Penelope asked her warmly.

Be cool, be confident... be persuasive.

“I’m here to ask you for the right to campaign against Marita for Head of the Coven.”

The murmuring turned into heated exclamations and Caia shifted closer to Vil unconsciously. He placed a supportive hand on her shoulder.

“Why?” Penelope asked, seeming hurt by Caia’s request.

“Because I believe that I can end this war, but not using Marita’s methods. I’m not asking you to kill her and give me the trace,” she rushed on, “I’m just asking that you give me the authority to make the decisions in this war. Marita would still continue using the trace, but working for me.”

A few of them almost looked disdainful, but Albert’s gaze had softened. “That’s quite merciful of you, Caia.”

“I have no wish to harm anyone. But I don’t believe this war will ever find closure under the leadership of Marita.”

The tall magik who had spoken first scoffed. “And how do you think you can do any better? Marita has had quite a few victories recently.”

“Because of Caia,” Penelope inserted. “Marita has been doing just as well as any other Head of the Coven until Caia came along. Those victories you speak of have had Caia’s hand in them somewhere.”

More murmuring as this sunk in.

Caia rubbed her sweaty palms against her trouser legs and stepped forward a little more confidently. She wouldn’t tell them her suspicion that Marita had tried to kidnap Jaeden for her own nefarious means because without proof she would appear as a spiteful little girl, completely undermining her position with the Council. But she would tell them about the children. For that there was proof.

“While I was at the Center I followed Marita one day. She disappeared under a trap door in the Altar of Gaia. The second marble slab to the right of the statue of Gaia has a gold button attached to it. If you press it, it opens to reveal a basement. Inside the basement you will find at least one laboratory where Marita is conducting illegal experiments on lykan children who are caged down there.”

A flurry of outrage erupted in the room, some admonishing her for ‘such nonsense’, others like Alfred and Penelope paling in fear.

“All you need to do is send a spy in. Someone who can mask their thoughts well in their trace.”

“You really expect us to believe this?” the elegant magik sneered.

“I expect you to go in and find the proof for yourselves.”

“Alfred,” a surprisingly young looking magik intoned in a bored voice, “I’ll go.”

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