Page 5

During the first portion of the afternoon, Niko had given a lengthy presentation regarding DNB’s inception and subsequent years, a full overview of the company’s background and early start.

Jade’s pointed questions, specific and probing, had only served to cement the begrudging respect he held for her.

Jade was brilliant; no doubt about it. Only a fool would underestimate her. The people she’d hired were equally gifted. Trina’s brilliantly tactical mind already had Niko seeing her potential.

A tension coursed through their conversations, often sheathed as bland compliments, but that was to be expected in conversations that could lead to the loss of one’s livelihood.

Caleb, Niko’s right hand at DNB, sat beside him.

The thirty-something human had been Niko’s very first hire.

When he’d pictured moving forward with the small business he’d created, Caleb was his go-to.

Besides being a brilliant strategic mind, the human could read people better than most immortals.

It was imperative in their business—and it’d been something Niko had grown to depend on.

Throughout the session, Caleb had been sending him instant messages. The running commentary on the people seated around the table was both insightful and entertaining.

Everyone was posing and courting each other in an effort to make a good first impression and keep their head off the chopping block. The smiles Niko received whenever he caught another’s eye were broad but fake.

He didn’t concern himself with their behavior. While their light shone brilliantly, humans faded quickly. In the four hundred years he’d walked the planet, he’d only been disappointed when those humans he’d grown to cherish, like Caleb, inevitably reached the end of their lifespans.

Immortality suited Niko. He had seen empires rise and fall, and every day brought something new to the table. Humans were so focused on time and their lack of it that they barely sought out the beauty behind the stage.

Jade’s throat cleared, bringing him back to the present, and Niko realized she was making the noise for his sake. Clearly, she was expecting him to pay attention as she spoke about the history of her own company.

He’d already done extensive research on McArthur Vegas.

He knew that she’d built the company from the ground up, but when she spoke about it herself, she had the ability to ensnare the entire audience.

Niko almost felt guilty over firing her.

Then he remembered that she was in league with Julian. His conscience was clean.

It was several minutes after closing time when she smiled apologetically. “I’m afraid I’ve kept you longer than anticipated. Travel home safely, everyone.”

Given their frosty introduction this morning, Niko didn’t linger, preferring instead to walk out with his entourage.

As soon as they were out of earshot, all of them began speaking of the trials and triumphs of the day.

As they headed toward the elevator, a flash of panic seared through Niko, but he gave no indication of it as they filed into the tight confines.

Once the doors closed, the conversation shifted to another topic.

One of his directors, Hayley Riordan, cracked the surface with the first comment. “Jade’s had work done. No one is naturally that beautiful without silicone.”

Niko barely kept himself from rolling his eyes.

“Definitely,” came another voice, just as eager. “Gorgeous, but undoubtedly has been under the knife.”

“Isn’t she supposed to be in her forties?”

Loathing the topic, Niko interjected, “Jade’s built an empire from the ground up, kept it consistent through volatile times, and earned the respect of her peers. Why are we critiquing her looks? It strikes me as a bit …” he paused to let it sink in, “superficial.”

The boisterous group cooled immediately, and the elevator ride suddenly became a study in silence. He wouldn’t soften his criticism. Demeaning Jade for her appearance was unacceptable, and he wouldn’t allow the conversation to continue.

Despite his natural tendency to be a people pleaser, he wasn’t driven by a need to be praised or popular.

He was led by his moral compass, and it pointed true north.

Nothing would sway him from pursuing what he felt was the proper course of action—not even the awkwardness of riding in an elevator with people he’d just admonished.

The boring elevator music continued to play, casting light on the uncomfortable silence.

Inwardly, Niko warred with his own anxiety.

His skin stretched too tightly over his bones, and the panicked flutter of his heart would’ve given him away to another immortal.

Thank goodness Jade wasn’t along for the ride.

When the doors finally opened, he started to breathe easier.

He hoofed it to the parking garage several blocks over, but when he slid behind the wheel to his McLaren Spyder, he didn’t turn the key.

Instead, he phased home.

The overwhelming feeling of pressure and disorientation was familiar. Most Sagani learned the ability to phase, but it was difficult, and aptitude varied widely between them. While some could only phase themselves short distances, others could mass transport a dozen people.

Niko’s form solidified within the comfort of his own home halfway across the continent.

While large energy expenditures typically contributed to the deterioration of his species, his legion’s mender had supplemented him for explicitly that purpose.

Amadeo was one of his closest friends and had always been cautious.

Niko wasn’t worried about it. At only four hundred years old, he hadn’t begun his decline.

In another century or two, he’d begin to see the signs.

At first, his abilities would become less reliable, and he’d become prone to flares of weakness.

When those periods of weakness became longer, his control would deteriorate. Inevitably, he’d go rogue.

Theirs was a dying race. If the princess was never found, it would only be a matter of time. Without the blood sacrament containing the protein she alone created, their magic would continue to destabilize. The queen and her lineage were the anchor of their race.

When Zahra disappeared, the connection between the primes and the anchor broke down. What had existed as a whole became fractured, and each legion became a section unique onto themselves. The labyrinth that bound the Sagani together was no longer connected by the same source.

Now, only the primes kept their webs from fully dissolving. The mental labyrinths, still cursed by a fractured foundation, were slowly rupturing. Their very magic had begun to destroy them.

The labyrinth didn’t exist on any physical plane, but in a psychic space that wasn’t tangible. Everything was connected by energy and was centered around the source—which was no longer there. The night the queen was murdered, that central point vanished, and the labyrinth had plunged into chaos.

Those who’d rejected the legions’ offers of protection had become the exiled. Some were more peaceful than others, some rebelled, but most of those who spoke out fiercely about the queen or the new way of life died out. They had been the first to fall prey to becoming rogues.

Only the Anchoria , a small group of powerful women, shared a fraction of the queen’s abilities.

They alone could manufacture a similar protein, less potent, less active, and obtained with an extensive effort which left them weak.

It wasn’t a true method, but it was one that worked when all other outlets failed.

The gift was passed down through the maternal line, and the Anchoria were rare and highly revered.

Blinking his irritated eyes, Niko quickly removed his contacts. Unfortunately, his very life depended on the disguise he wore.

A polite telepathic ping sounded in his mind.

Prime, came the instinctual reply.

Roman’s presence flooded him the next instant, the powerful punch of the other man’s magical signature sharp as a pulse of power.

How did today go?

Very well, all things considered, Niko began, withholding the juicy information like a greedy raccoon. Full of introductions and preliminary information, and we’ll be prepared for discussions on day two.

Glad to hear it. Did Jade take to you like every other woman in recorded history?

Surprisingly, no, Niko chuckled out loud, the sound echoing along their mental link. She’s so straightlaced. What’s perhaps more concerning is that she’s an egocentric perfectionist who only likes vanilla ice cream. Plus, she didn’t enjoy my humor. Not one bit.

No?

After reeling in Roman, Niko finally let out the line. Well, it may have something to do with the fact that she’s Sagani.

Roman didn’t miss a beat, immediately demanding, You’ve confirmed she’s kin?

Bracing himself for the other man’s predictably irrational response, Niko said, She’s one of Julian’s.

A sudden displacement of air had Niko staring into light-brown eyes. Roman’s impressive six-and-a-half-foot frame loomed before him as if he were hewn from solid rock. His prime wore a stony expression beset by concern.

“What happened?”

The most notable feature of Roman’s appearance was the short ebony mohawk.

His golden tan skin, indicative of his South-American heritage, was decorated by curving, lined tattoos that traced up the sides of his neck and crawled across his torso, running down the length of his forearms to the wrists.

If he looked close enough, Niko could still see the scars on his arms from Yelena’s attack. The tattoos hadn’t been able to hide them.

Roman had never forgiven himself for killing Yelena—and not being there in time to save Ivan. The scars were living proof that he’d attempted to keep her alive to his own detriment, but nothing had been able to change the outcome.

Becoming the legion’s prime hadn’t been Roman’s intention.

He’d been an inexperienced second to Ivan following a meteoric rise in his early youth.

Despite being green, he’d shouldered the duty of rescuing Yelena’s abandoned son and holding the legion together following catastrophic crisis—and he’d done it with dignity and grace.

Roman had explained years later that the manipulation had stained Yelena’s soul.

Even if he had been able to free her from the coercion, the guilt of killing her own mate would’ve driven her insane.

If she survived, the decay of her mind would have destabilized the legion’s labyrinth and corrupted those within.

In the end, her death had been a mercy.

Niko nodded at Roman’s question. “You worry too much, Ro; I’m fine. We were absolute professionals, not a single bloodbath or magical duel.”

“Be careful, Niko.” The warning tone in Roman’s voice was underscored by a lifetime of previous experience. “We can’t trust Julian’s people. I’d rather we forget the deal than compromise you. It isn’t worth your life.”

Niko wasn’t so sure. Julian was the root of his nation’s rot, and cutting him down was vital.

If Niko could coax the other man into a meeting, he was certain his blade would taste blood.

However, telling his best friend and prime that wasn’t wise—he’d probably end up chained in his basement until the urge had officially passed.

Instead, he adopted the same mask he’d worn this morning and shrugged. “I’m keeping both eyes open. I won’t let a pretty face take me to my grave.”

“So, she’s pretty, huh?”

“Roman!” he mockingly chastised. “You have no idea.”

A sly smile softened the lines of Roman’s face. This easy companionship had always existed between them, and Niko had never once doubted his prime held his best interests at heart.

Unlike Julian, who’d gladly bury Niko alive if the truth of his past were ever discovered.