Page 57 of Primal Bonds

“Tell me,” he said again. “Where’s Corban?”

On Nika’s other side, Marjani was careful to keep her gaze on the woman’s face, not the glowing quartz. At least something good had come out of this. It was the most animated he’d seen his sister in months. But then, she had even more reason to hate Corban than he did.

Back and forth.

Nika followed the movement with her eyes. The flickers in the quartz were mirrored in her pupils, twin blue flames in the black.

“Talk to me, Nika. All I want is information. Tell me what I want to know and I’ll let you live.”

Her mouth compressed, but her gaze remained on the swinging quartz.

In the Darktime, he would’ve forced the information from her and then smashed her quartz before dumping her on the streets of Baltimore—if he didn’t just slit her throat. Nika might not be the meek mouse she was pretending to be, but she was no match for a man of his strength.

But the Darktime was over, and he had little taste for hurting a woman, even one working with Corban. Of course, raiding her mind for information against her will wasn’t much better. But the clan came first.

His first question was simple. Get her to answer one question, and the next one was easier. “Where did you meet Corban?”

Her jaw clenched tight. Dislike and fear came off her in waves, a bitter, unpleasant scent. He didn’t think all that fear was for him, either. No, she was afraid of Corban, too.

Back and forth.

He repeated the question. “Where did you meet Corban?”

When she still didn’t answer, he drew deeply on his Gift. Hypnotism: his dirty little secret. Most earth fada could hypnotize others if given enough time and opportunity, but he could do it so quickly and thoroughly that it was akin to compulsion. He was sure other people suspected, but only his top people knew for sure, because if his Gift ever became general knowledge, he could lose the clan’s trust. How could his clanmates know what was true and what he’d planted in their minds?

Panic flared within Nika. He kept up the dark, steady pressure—and felt the moment her will collapsed in on itself.

Something deep inside her howled in fury, but her mouth opened. “In Iceland.” The words were slow, a little blurred.

Adric raised a brow. Iceland was the ice fae’s home territory.

“What were you doing in Iceland?”

“My alpha, he sent me to the ice fae.”

“Why?”

She shrugged, her gaze on the moving quartz. He drew more energy from it. The flickers coalesced into a vivid cobalt fire.

“Tell me, Nika.”

“I am to work for them. The ice fae, they pay the clan good money.”

“And Corban? Why was he in Iceland?”

“He works for them too.”

“Who? Who is he working for?”

She swallowed and then whispered, “The king.”

Adric considered that. He hadn’t heard from Corban since he’d disappeared soon after leaving for the Himalayas to track Sindre’s rogue female. For the first three months, Adric had kept tabs on his cousin; as alpha, his quartz was linked to everyone in the clan. But then the link had been abruptly cut. As far as everyone knew Corban had died, but Adric suspected he’d smashed his own quartz so that he could go into hiding.

It had been left to Adric to explain to King Sindre why the Baltimore fada hadn’t completed the job they’d been hired to do. The ice fae king was a tall, striking man with long blond hair and the ice-gray eyes of a predator. He’d been waiting at the entrance to Adric’s den. A clear message: the king could find him anytime, anywhere.

Adric had apologized and offered to send another tracker, but Sindre had simply scrutinized him with those frosty eyes. Adric’s hand had gone to his quartz. Ice fae fed on the energy of motion. A powerful fae like Sindre could suck the energy out of your very molecules. The only way to resist was to shield yourself—either with iron, or by putting up an energy barrier.

“Very well,” the king said at last. “I’ll find the woman myself. It seems she is too clever for even a fada tracker.”

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