Page 13

Chapter Ten

For the last four hours, Niko had attempted every method known to man to figure out what Jade was drinking. Capped tightly, the tall mug she carried like a life source was never left unattended.

Trina, the young woman she usually depended upon for insight, seemed oddly amused when Niko asked her. She’d loyally refused to out her boss.

Even Kurt, strong-armed into asking everyone what their drink of choice was for the icebreaker, hadn’t managed to finagle the answer out of Jade.

Failure was not something Niko was familiar with.

Fortunately, Jade had snickered out loud at his silly joke of the day, and that’d given him reason to smile.

By the time lunch rolled around, Niko had firmly outlined his plan for Liquid Abduction Plan B.

It began with subterfuge, and it would end in success and the subsequent purchase of everything associated with said drink.

Brilliant.

His scheming helped him to numb the monotony of continual argument. Both sides had a stake in the outcome, but neither team was willing to put their necks on the line.

The only exception happened when Trina or Caleb stepped in.

Watching the two of them argue had been the highlight of Niko’s day.

It was like watching a lion and a tiger square off against one another, but instead of going for the throat, the snarls took the form of passive-aggressive comments and obscure references to business methodologies.

Jade had certainly chosen her right-hand woman well. When they broke for lunch, Jade retreated to her own office without a word to him, her mug firmly in hand. Her sudden iciness should’ve worried him, but it didn’t.

Immortals were—much like ogres—layered. Despite the stereotypes humans created for their fictional centuries-old beings, the Sagani were three-dimensional, just like everyone else. Their experiences shaped who they were. Emotion was volatile at the best of times, and Niko knew that intimately.

Jade’s door was shut when he arrived. He tapped lightly. When she called out for him to enter, he noticed that she looked resigned. “May I help you?”

Niko shut the door behind him with a very gentle click. He stole one of her guest chairs, and she merely looked at him.

“No lunch?

“It’s unnecessary. Besides,” her attention dropped to the stack of papers in front of her, “I have work to do.”

“I have whiplash, dove.” Feigning a crick in his neck, he chuckled. “Last night you danced with me, and today I’ve been treated like gum on the bottom of your shoe.”

She didn’t look up. “Yesterday didn’t mean anything.”

Had it come from anyone but Jade wrapped in her Ice Queen finery, he might’ve been hurt. As it was, it was simply more fuel to his fire. At this point, he was beginning to enjoy the burn.

“We had a lovely dinner, and then we danced. Under the stars. In a garden. Like we were the main characters in a sappy office romcom.”

“No, you distracted me while I battled a migraine. To suggest that there was something more to it is preposterous.”

“I see. Will you at least tell me why you’re icing me out again?”

Jade’s pen dropped unceremoniously on her desk with a hollow sound. “Anything between us is illegal, Niko. There’s nothing left to explain.” Then, quieter, “Last night was a mistake.”

Before he knew it, she’d dismissed him once more to focus on her work. An errant thought telling him to leave and admit defeat stole through him, but it was quickly dismissed.

The woman before him was a mystery wrapped in stubbornness and fierce determination. Not only had she never backed down from a fight in the boardroom, but she had gone toe to toe with him without blinking. Jade was a force to be reckoned with both in and out of the office.

Instead of surrendering to the urge to give in, he doubled down. “I’ll admit it then: I’m here with an ulterior motive.”

His prompt did exactly what he’d intended it to do: ensnare her attention. When he didn’t continue, her gift would confirm he was telling the truth, and her curiosity would be piqued.

“Well, by all means, don’t hold back now.”

“I’ve been tasked to discover exactly what it is you're hiding.”

“What I’m hiding,” she repeated.

The words were bland and uninterested. No spark of surprise or fear was hidden beneath them. It was as if she wasn’t concealing anything.

In that moment, Niko knew Jade was innocent of Julian’s crimes. If she had participated or been privy to his atrocities, she wouldn’t have been able to hide her involvement—or the fear of discovery.

“It’s of grave importance.” He inhaled theatrically as if arriving at a big confession. “What are you drinking?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Obsessed isn’t a word I choose to use often, Nikolas, but I’d award it to you today. That was not the question I thought you were going to ask.”

“No? Did you think it would be about what Julian does in his free time?”

“Julian doesn’t do anything in his free time—because he doesn’t have any.

When he isn’t busy arranging safety and sessions for the Anchoria , he’s conducting meetings and figuring out how to better Sagani lives.

If he has any free time at all, I’m sure he’s catching up on what little sleep he’s allowed. ”

“So even when you were living there, you rarely saw Julian?” Niko asked.

“If you must know, I saw him quite often.”

“Yeah? Is he a good man?” At her frown, he added, “Forgive me, I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting him. Legions at war and all that.”

“He’s—he’s—” Jade stopped, her pen dropping to the marble as she leaned back in her chair. Whatever she was going to say had her confused at best, upset at worst.

“Singlehandedly saving us from extinction?” Niko finished.

By the look on Jade’s face, that had been exactly what she was going to say. And there, behind the frigid exterior she’d worn since the moment he’d seen her this morning, a crack in the ice showed just how terrified of that phrase she truly was.

In the next moment, she’d shaken herself and reassumed her mask. “Julian is a good leader. Our safety is his top priority, and our legion is stronger for it.”

“How so?”

“Most of our shifters have gone rogue, and he was the one who stepped up to the plate and eliminated them,” she explained.

A flare of suspicion heated beneath his skin. “Shifters? Had they used a lot of magic?”

“No, but everyone knows shifters have trouble with their beasts.”

Niko’s heart sank at the robotic way she recited it. “Jade, that isn’t true. Other than menders, shifter magic is the only type of magic that doesn’t corrupt.”

“Well, of course.” The smile suddenly dropped from her face. “I knew that … I think I knew that.”

There was something very wrong with Jade. The way she’d retreated into herself, muttering it as though she truly couldn’t differentiate between truth and fiction, was highly unlike her. When she finally met his eye again, that anxiety had resurfaced.

“Then why did all of ours go rogue, Niko? There’s only a handful of us left.”

“I don’t know.”

It killed him to admit it.

“When I was little, just after the queen died, there were hundreds of shifters in our legion. I can remember playing with lynx and eagles and bears—with my parents when they shifted. Now there’s only four of us.

Four , Niko, out of hundreds.” Her voice, tight with tragedy, raked him over the coals. “Where did they all go?”

The possibility of everyone having transferred to another legion was impossible. Julian had forbidden it. And with the suspicion still looming between the primes, none of them would even allow kin entry into their capital and openly welcome a potential spy.

Jade thumbed at her temples again. The headache she’d complained about the previous night must’ve reappeared. It was concerning.

“Headache back again?”

She nodded, then grabbed a pill container and downed four. Given Sagani biology, medications rarely worked, which explained Niko’s confused look.

“Sometimes it takes the edge off.”

Jade had unintentionally revealed that they were the same age—both born approximately four centuries ago, around the time of the queen’s death. Neither of them had known a time when the Sagani weren’t isolated into their own legions, or allowed to roam the world freely.

It also confirmed that she wouldn’t have begun deteriorating or experiencing magical corrosion yet. That decay only began in their fifth or sixth century, and with constant magical use. That meant Jade’s headaches were unaccounted for.

The revelation his questions brought to light had fallen hard on her. Playing to his initial subterfuge, he attempted to alleviate that stress.

“So, you really aren’t going to spill the beans on what you’re drinking?”

She gave him a bland look. “Obsessed, Niko.”

When her gaze dipped back to the paperwork before her, it became clear she wasn’t going to answer. Sighing defeatedly, Niko stood. “I can see I’m not wanted; I’ll take my leave.”

Jade didn’t even notice her mug left with him.

Stepping into a smaller conference room with his prize, he stealthily swirled the liquid around before popping open the top and inhaling.

Ah , so that’s what she was hiding.

Jade Lascaux, CEO of McArthur Vegas, was a sucker for sweet, delicious hot chocolate. The discovery had him grinning like a fool by the time he made his way back to the main conference room for their afternoon session.

Arriving before she did, he placed the mug by her chair before dropping victoriously into his own. By now, she’d have discovered it was missing, and quite possibly had searched her office in vain. He couldn’t find it within himself to be sorry, though; she was the one who’d made it into a game.

Nothing could’ve hidden the way Jade’s steps stuttered the moment she saw the mug by her usual seat. She temporarily paused in the doorway, then turned a vengeful glare his way.

Niko wasted no time in messaging her. I must say I’m surprised. Who’d have thought you had such a sweet tooth?

If he didn’t know better, he’d have said she was counting to ten before responding.

If I discover you’ve poisoned me, I’ll change your name on all the acquisition documents to Agatha Christie.

Ah, dove, give me some more credit, he replied. Poisoning is so final. Kidnapping? Now that I can get behind.