Page 37 of Stroke of Shadows

What the fuck?

Voices filled the room, pulling Sythe from his trance. He’d been staring at the fucking carpet, his beast crazed at just the sight. Snapping his eyes shut, he pulled on his own strength and forced his beast back before he did something stupid.

Like shift in a room full of Breed haters.

That would surely fuck up his plan.

“Let the Light guide you.”

Confident his irises weren’t going to give him away, Sythe turned to watch the Leader dismiss everyone with a gentle bow of her head. Her smile was tense, shoulders rigid. She thanked every single person for coming, many shaking her hand before taking their leave. It was over ten minutes later before she finally acknowledged them.

“I was given no warning you’d be attending,” she said, glaring at Wyatt for a moment before turning to Sythe. “How many’s asked of us this time?”

Wyatt cocked his head. “Three.”

Lorraine pursed her lips. “For how long?”

“For as long as it takes.” Wyatt kicked at the edge of the carpet with a smirk, and Sythe’s beast raged inside his mind.

Sythe froze, continuing to fight for control. What had gotten his beast so riled up? He couldn’t sense any Daemonic presence, and nor were there any Shadow-Veyn.

Lorraine closed her eyes, seeming to take a moment to calm herself. “I never agreed to use my people like this.”

“You seem to forget who pays for everything.”

Her gaze was piercing, strong. There was no fear like Sythe expected. “No one that’s met with your friend has returned.”

Wyatt pulled the sunglasses from his face. “I can assure you they are well, as long as they follow their faith.”

“It’s not their faith I’m worried about.” She flicked her gaze to Sythe. He seemed to make her uncomfortable. “You know how we’ve been betrayed by Breed before.”

“That was different.”

“How so?” She tugged at the sleeves of her pale robe. “We were fooled because of empty promises, and our people were hurt because of it.”

“If you want out of our agreement, all you have to do is ask. I’m sure my father would be very interested in your history.”

“Of course not.” A slight rasp in her voice, one that seemed forced. “I’ll send the chosen ones, but please be kind to them. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I must pray.” Dropping her head, she gestured towards the doors.

“Let the Light guide you.” Sythe nodded, but she wouldn’t look up at either of them. It wasn’t until they were back outside that Sythe turned to Wyatt. “What the fuck was that? Tell me you’re not blackmailing the Leader?”

Wyatt smirked, tilting his head towards the sun. “She’s just a sheep, as much as the rest of the followers that believe that praying to the Gods will do anything. Unless she wants a bullet between her eyes.” Dropping his chin, he met Sythe’s gaze, his smile long gone and replaced with a severe expression.

“You don’t believe in the Gods?”

“Of course I do.” His eyes hardened. “The Gods provide for the pure because we’re created in their image. They don’t give a shit about praying. They care about actions.”

Sythe waited a heartbeat, allowing a smile to spread across his face. “You motherfucker. You have something planned.”

“Something that will finally give my family name some power.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his silver lighter and a packet of cigarettes. After a few tries, he finally managed to light one.

“Sounds fun.” Sythe’s smile widened, his next words designed to lead him into more answers. “Like something we’re going to get into real trouble with if we’re caught.”

Wyatt tilted his head, cool eyes assessing. Watching, as if looking for signs of disagreement. “If it works, then I will finally become a Lord of the Undercity. It’s what I deserve after years of living beneath my father’s shadow.” The end of the cigarette glowed bright, creating lines and contours that shadowed his features. It only lasted for as long as it took for him to inhale, but in that time Sythe pictured him as ugly as any of the monsters he usually fought.

“Is this what your father wants? Or what you want?”

Wyatt licked along his bottom lip, and Sythe knew he’d found a nerve.

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