Those colossal double doors, which would not have looked out of place at the Palace in Versailles, had swung open to reveal a breath taking room with an eclectic taste. But it was neither the room, nor the furniture, nor the decoration that caught Caia’s eyes this time. It was the magiks in front of her.
“Caia Ribeiro.” Marita gave a tight smile, nodded at her before shifting her gaze to Lucien. “Lucien Líder.”
Caia gulped and looked up at her Alpha. Lucien’s eyes were narrowed on the couple. Was she supposed to curtsey? Lucien was doing his usual, calculating their characters, deciding on the spot whether they had the potential to be trustworthy and likeable. The brief nod he gave, however, revealed that like or not, Lucien would respect the Head of the Coven and her ‘mate’.
Marita was very like her sister. She was as small and fragile-looking as Marion, as elegant, her hair as fiery red. But where there was gentle warmth in Marion’s features, Marita seemed sculpted in ice. Her eyes were tight and sharp, her jaw tense, her hands clasped rigidly in front of her. Vanne on the other hand was almost as tall as Lucien, except leaner and wiry. Seeming far more relaxed than his wife, Vanne stood, smiling widely at Caia, his eyes drinking her in. He wasn’t leering at her, she was sure of that; it was more as if he found her extraordinarily fascinating, as if he was waiting for her to do something completely unexpected.
“I’m glad we have this opportunity to meet,” Marita said, walking gracefully towards them. She took Caia’s hand in her own and shook it quickly and soberly. “Please, have a seat.”
“Thank you,” Caia managed and, with a subtle nod from Lucien, she followed Marita and Vanne further into the room. She and Lucien sat on a Louis XIV sofa facing the Head of the Coven, who sat facing them primly in a chair matching the sofa. Vanne lazed back in a leather La-Z-Boy that was so out of place with the décor and gazed, entirely relaxed, at the fire blazing brightly in the massive, ornate fireplace to their right. She knew she must look like the biggest dolt, her eyes wide as she took in the rich surroundings. Her gaze fell on Marion, who was now taking a seat away from the small gathering at the fireplace. She smiled at Caia reassuringly.
“Well,” Marita began slowly, her ocean-blue gaze fixed like granite on Caia, “Marion has filled me in on your reports about the Midnights, however, I would like you to reiterate for me this Pierre Du Bois’ plans for the MacLachlans.”
She nodded, feeling the butterflies dissipate a little, now that she had some control in the situation. “In three weeks’ time, Sunday 4th to be exact, Pierre and a few of his agents intend to ambush the MacLachlans during one of their pack runs. He was investigating best possible attack strategies, and then he found out that, like us, the MacLachlans have organized pack runs every month. They drive out to Remnant Forest, the woodlands that border the east of the city. According to Pierre’s agents the MacLachlans have employed a magik to mask their activities on public property?” she quizzed, having never realized such business went on.
Vanne grinned at her. “Some of us are extremely enterprising. We like to think on the whole that the Daylights are a tight group. We work well with each other regardless of race. And yes... we are aware that one of our magiks is employed by the MacLachlans. Seems only fair, considering the MacLachlans have been providing the Coven with excellent Rogue Hunters for many generations. One of the finest currently in fact, Phoebe MacLachlan.”
“A female hunter?” It was her turn to grin excitedly.
He chuckled. “There are a few. We’re not as backward as you may think, Caia.”
“Having lived among humans for so long without any supernatural influence other than one measly lykan,” Marita smirked and Caia bristled at the certain condescension she sensed in her tone, “It’s only natural that you may think the human females have more liberal rights than some female supernaturals do-”
“Lykans in particular,” Vanne teased, grinning dangerously at Lucien. She felt him tense beside her.
“Hmm, well no matter the race, we are aware your opinions may be unduly influenced by your upbringing, but I assure you, Caia, the Daylight Coven has much to offer you. Why... I’m a woman. One could surely say I’m one of the most powerful supernaturals today. A very bright future awaits you here.”
OK, so how did her detailing the MacLachlan’s plans suddenly detour into a sales pitch? She wanted to laugh. They had jumped on her surprise and delight at there being a female Rogue Hunter because they thought she was being oppressed by Lucien? And suddenly their sales pitch had turned into some feminist bull? She managed to keep the smirk off her face as she leaned closer to Lucien to reassure him.
“Yes, well, as I was saying,” she managed diplomatically, “Pierre will ambush the pack in Remnant Forest with ten magiks, guard the place with four, and he’ll have five spies watching the MacLachlans. Together they live on five streets in the city. So we’re looking at nineteen magiks.”
Marita frowned. “That’s a lot of arsenal.”
“I’d say overkill.” Caia nodded.
“It also means that Pierre has the beginnings of quite a rebellion,” Lucien added, his voice husky from concealed anger.
Marita nodded in agreement, and then snapped her fingers so abruptly Caia flinched. A magik appeared almost instantly beside the Head, a tall hulking figure of a man whose face held no expression, whatsoever.
“Noble, I assume Miss Ribeiro and Mr. Líder’s rooms are in order.”
“Yes, madam.”
She turned back to them. “Noble will show you to your rooms. Get some sleep. Tomorrow, after Mordecai and Marion have shown Caia around some of the Center’s facilities, I want the two of you to reconvene here at five o’clock to discuss our plan of action. Lucien, I thought you might be interested in our Second Unit.”
His brows creased in confusion, as did Caia’s. What an earth was their Second Unit?
“Lykans.” Vanne grinned.
“Yes, quite. Our Second Unit are our infantry of lykans. I’ll have a representative sent around to your room tomorrow morning.”
Lucien nodded politely.
“One more thing before you retire for the evening, Caia.”
It was said pleasantly, yet an unexpected chill shot through her.
“Yes?”
Marita’s frozen smile melted into a grimace. “You should be aware that despite my sister’s championing of you, and her utmost belief in your sincerity and trustworthiness, not all of Daylight is inclined to believe her.”
“What does that mean?” Lucien growled.
She cast him a withering look. “It means, Mr. Líder, that some of my people are uneasy around someone of Midnight blood.”
“Daylight blood as well,” he reminded her through clenched teeth.
Caia felt those nervous butterflies returning as Marita shrugged. “Well, perhaps if she had come to the Center as a permanent resident everyone would have been able to look past the fact that her mother was a treacherous Midnight whore who killed many Daylights, including your father and her own.”
“Marita...” Marion stood from her chair, her expression pained.
Her sister merely raised her hand, the polite mask falling back into place upon her marble face. “I don’t mean to be cruel.” Her eyes turned to Caia, whose own were bleak with uncertainty. She felt Lucien’s tension beside her, and was reminded once again of all the differences that stood between them, of how much he had been there for her despite that.
“If I can get past it so can they,” Lucien’s voice rumbled around the room. He moved closer to her, his arm brushing against hers. The butterflies began to abate, and she snuck a grateful glance at him.
“One can only hope they will.” Marita drew her gaze back to her. “However, I would encourage you, Caia, to think about staying longer than this business with the MacLachlans. It would go a long way in securing you the right allies.”
“Well,” she plastered an equally painfully polite smile on as her hostess, “I thank you for the advice, Marita, but I hope my very temporary visit at the Center will be enough to show the people here whose side I’m on. I’d have hoped killing my own uncle would have incurred some kind of faith, but ultimately rescuing a pack of strangers will just have to do the trick.”
Lucien didn’t even disguise his amusement and in fact neither did Vanne. Marion was the only one who tried to hold on to a straight face as Marita narrowed her eyes at first her husband, and then Caia.
“You might do well here after all.”
Caia raised an eyebrow in surprise at the grudging respect she found in the magik’s eyes.
“We’ll see, though.”
“These people that might take issue to me being here, does that include the Council?” Caia asked quietly, watching warily for a reaction.
Marita smiled smugly. “The Council does not reside here on a permanent basis. They only convene on their schedule, or for emergencies.”
It wasn’t exactly an answer. Marion had taught her a lot over the last few months, including some pretty in-depth history lessons. Like the Midnights, the Daylights had an appointed council that included members of the more influential families within the Coven. Their existence was a precaution; an acting body of control that disavowed the idea of an autocracy, even though Marita had complete autonomy as long as her methods were morally correct, as well as providing the Coven with adequate protection and defense. Caia had learned from Marion that three hundred years ago, Marion and Marita’s great-grandmother had taken a stand against the Head - a tyrannical warlock, whom she discovered was plotting to overthrow the Council and take complete power for himself. She went to the Council with this information, a difficult task to have done, considering she had had to hide her intentions from him in her trace, and asked to be put forward as a candidate for Head of the Coven. Usually, this would have led to a political campaign where the Daylights would be allowed to vote for whomever they wanted to lead. The loser was killed so that they could ask Gaia to imbue the winner with trace power. In Marion’s great-grandmother’s case, the Council had been so horrified by her discoveries they’d had the Head killed immediately, and placed her in power. Their family had been ruling ever since.
So far, the Council was very happy with Marita.
“But do they take issue with Caia?” Lucien persisted.
Reluctantly, Marita shook her head. “They are merely impressed by your service to the Coven, and interested to see what you are capable of in the future.”
Satisfaction washed through Caia and she shared a relieved smile with Lucien.
Marita ‘harrumphed’ again, and with that, they were ushered out of the room behind an impassive Noble.
They followed Noble back to the elevator that then led them down to floor five, where they were deposited on another elevator that took them back up to floor twenty-three.
It was like something out of a sci-fi movie. Everything was white. White tiled floors, white walls, white doors, and florescent lighting that made all the white blinding.