Page 83 of Feral Possession

Marcus pushed on. “Then it’s fortunate he hasn’t tied mine.”

In previous dealings with Victor, he’d learned, at times, it was best to say nothing once his chips were on the table. He prayed Dove took her cue and remained patient.

The clan leader took his time aligning his pen at the side of his leather desk pad. “It seems we find ourselves in similar situations. Both unable to move forward. Whereas I cannot actively help you track Helen, you may find it interesting to know your uncle’s task force has been negligent in retrieving Adam’s remains from my morgue. Since Adam was working for Zion, Tiberius insisted I allow his team to process the traitor’s corpse. He has yet to follow through with this demand.”

“Adam is still here?”

“He is.” Victor’s even stare shifted in Dove’s direction. “If only you knew someone who could speak to the dead.”

“Wait. What?” Dove scooted to the edge of her seat. She glanced at Marcus. “Sorry to interrupt, but this isn’t a possibility we’ve ever discussed.”

Victor continued as though Dove hadn’t spoken. “In exchange for granting you access to Adam, I will expect a detailed accounting of everything you discover. Know that there will be no record of your visit to the morgue. Seeing as how I am no longer in charge of Zion’s investigation.”

So Victor was investigating on the side despite being removed from the case. In using Dove, he’d get the information he desired without getting his hands dirty. It was a fair trade if it got them the information they sought.

Raised voices echoed from the hall. Marcus met Victor’s inquisitive stare. Apparently, whatever was going on outside wasn’t on the clan leader’s schedule. Heavy footfalls pounded the floors, and the office door crashed back on its hinges.

Marcus lurched from the chair, snagging Dove around the waist and dragging her behind his back.

Braced in the doorway was none other than his uncle, Tiberius Steele. Shit! What was he doing there?

Tiberius stormed into the room, followed by four uniformed members of his task force. Shouts rang out, and two heavily armed men burst in behind them. Both members of Victor’s elite guard.

“Apologies, Master Custodis,” one said through gritted teeth, his fury evident. “The magister claims he is here on official business. He forced himself inside and refused to wait for us to summon you.”

Victor rose to his feet, his manner controlled while icy menace filled the room. “What’s the meaning of this, Tiberius?”

The gleam in the magister’s eyes didn’t bode well for anyone. That narrow glare swiveled in Marcus’s direction, flickering with surprise as he scanned his uninjured face. “Nephew. You’re looking… well. Still, this is the last place I expected to find you. You should reconsider the company you keep given your own troubles with the Council.”

Marcus bluffed, using the easiest excuse available to him. “Would you deny your nephew the expertise of one of the best physicians in the underworld?” Victor’s medic was well-known. His medical facilities beneath Claymore were top of the line.

“I wouldn’t, which is exactly why I offered my own, but that’s beside the point. It isn’t you who brings me here.” His attention shifted to Victor. Glee illuminated the cold depths of his eyes. “Viktor Custodis, Clan Leader of the Eastern Realm, I hereby charge you with treason against the Council. You will place yourself in the custody of my task force until such a time your case may be heard by your peers.”

Marcus gnashed his teeth. Just as he was on the verge of gaining the information he desperately needed, his uncle planned to arrest Victor. Convenient timing. Too convenient? The very idea that Tiberius sabotaged his efforts deliberately was unsettling.

The demon at his center stirred. Lights flickered and his uncle tensed, eyeing the room with suspicion.

Dove’s slim body pressed against his back. “Easy,” she whispered.

Victor’s tone was sharp enough to cut glass. “This time you’ve gone too far, Tiberius.”

Marcus feared the clan leader was right. For weeks now, the magister had made wild accusations against key members of the community. Arresting several powerful entities. With this act, Tiberius may have earned the distrust of much of the underworld. Victor was well-known and highly respected. Clapping him in chains and subjecting him to the humiliation of a trial could make or break both of their careers.

“Master Custodis? What are your orders?” said Victor’s guard.

At last, Victor responded, “General, have your men stand down. I will go willingly to see this gross injustice rectified.” He gave Marcus his attention. “My servant will escort you to Doctor Randall. I’m certain he will be happy to assist you in my absence. Please keep me apprised of your progress.”

Marcus nodded, not trusting his voice to be his own instead of the demon’s.

Victor strolled around his desk, stopping directly in front of the magister. The two leaders stood toe to toe. Identical expressions of loathing on their faces. Icy menace crackled between them. The air grew frigid. Dove shivered against his back.

“Your move, Magister Steele,” Victor said in a voice so chilling it raised the hairs on Marcus’s arms.

“So it is.” Tiberius smirked. Metal clanked. His uncle clapped restraints on Victor’s wrists without breaking his stare. “After you, Master Custodis.” He stepped aside, gesturing for the powerful leader to exit.

Victor nodded, and they filed out the door.

Twenty-One

---