private family trust and sits on the boards of two very significant publically traded corporations. If it weren’t for his money, he’d be invisible.”
“That’s it?” he asked, a little disappointed. He’d have expected Cyn to see the man behind the façade.
“Give me a little credit,” she said dryly. “No one’s that invisible, not with as much money as he has. So I went looking in all the wrong places. He’s got some very unsavory, albeit legal, hobbies, though he does a good job of hiding them. For some reason, no one in the press has called him on his underground activities, but if it matters, I’ll find out why. Either he’s paying a lot of people off, or he’s got some good enforcers on his side.”
“Or he’s making use of magic,” Nick suggested. “He doesn’t have any inborn magic of his own that I know of, but I’ve never met him in person, so I can’t say for sure. There are certainly devices in the world that could cast a sufficiently threatening nimbus around him and his activities that would prevent anyone from exploring too deeply. Or it could be something as simple as a forgetfulness charm. Though that would only work if he was rigorous in confining his unsavory pleasures to one location.”
“Is that possible?” Cyn asked, looking at Raphael, not Nick, which pissed him off. He was the magic expert in the room. He’d been born with his power and had been practicing magic for millennia, while the damn vampire had just woken up one night with a taste for blood.
“I generally avoid sorcerers,” Raphael told Cyn, his arm on the back of the couch behind her, his fingers tangling idly in her dark hair.
Yeah, yeah, I get it. She belongs to you, Nick thought to himself.
But Raphael was still talking. “I’ve heard tale of such devices created ages ago when magic was said to have been free in the universe for anyone with the skill to harness it. No longer, however.” He shifted his gaze to Nick, giving him a malevolent stare.
Cyn turned a puzzled look on Nick. “Do you think Marshall plans to use the manacles for something . . . violent? Granted, his sexual tastes are unconventional, but I couldn’t find anyone who’d been hurt by them. His partners are all part of the same underground community and seem willing enough.”
Nick regarded her silently for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to convince her that getting the manacles back was an urgent matter without revealing too much. He’d assumed she and Raphael wouldn’t need much convincing, because of their personal experience with the manacles. And it had seemed to be enough, right up until the moment Isaac Marshall was identified as the buyer. Cyn had a point about Marshall not being violent, and not particularly dangerous, at least not overtly . . . though he had no doubts that Marshall would feel quite justified in killing anyone who tried to steal from him. Unfortunately, that only argued against going after the damn things, because it might be more dangerous to try to take them, rather than leaving them in place.
But Nick had reasons of his own for getting the manacles into his own collection. Reasons he wasn’t eager to share. He glanced up and found the damn vampire staring at him, his black eyes intent and seeing far too much. Suddenly, the vamp’s lips curled into a smug smile, and he laughed.
CYN JOLTED IN surprise when Raphael laughed. Not only because he didn’t laugh like that very often, but because there was a cruel edge to it that she found troubling. She opened her mouth to ask what was going on, but in the same moment, everything changed.
Nick jumped to his feet, kicking the heavy coffee table out of the way as he launched an attack. She felt the faintest brush of his power before Raphael roared his fury and shoved her aside, pulling on his own power to slam Nick backward, the force of his attack so great that the sofa Nick had been sitting on went flying toward the door. The two of
“That’s it?” he asked, a little disappointed. He’d have expected Cyn to see the man behind the façade.
“Give me a little credit,” she said dryly. “No one’s that invisible, not with as much money as he has. So I went looking in all the wrong places. He’s got some very unsavory, albeit legal, hobbies, though he does a good job of hiding them. For some reason, no one in the press has called him on his underground activities, but if it matters, I’ll find out why. Either he’s paying a lot of people off, or he’s got some good enforcers on his side.”
“Or he’s making use of magic,” Nick suggested. “He doesn’t have any inborn magic of his own that I know of, but I’ve never met him in person, so I can’t say for sure. There are certainly devices in the world that could cast a sufficiently threatening nimbus around him and his activities that would prevent anyone from exploring too deeply. Or it could be something as simple as a forgetfulness charm. Though that would only work if he was rigorous in confining his unsavory pleasures to one location.”
“Is that possible?” Cyn asked, looking at Raphael, not Nick, which pissed him off. He was the magic expert in the room. He’d been born with his power and had been practicing magic for millennia, while the damn vampire had just woken up one night with a taste for blood.
“I generally avoid sorcerers,” Raphael told Cyn, his arm on the back of the couch behind her, his fingers tangling idly in her dark hair.
Yeah, yeah, I get it. She belongs to you, Nick thought to himself.
But Raphael was still talking. “I’ve heard tale of such devices created ages ago when magic was said to have been free in the universe for anyone with the skill to harness it. No longer, however.” He shifted his gaze to Nick, giving him a malevolent stare.
Cyn turned a puzzled look on Nick. “Do you think Marshall plans to use the manacles for something . . . violent? Granted, his sexual tastes are unconventional, but I couldn’t find anyone who’d been hurt by them. His partners are all part of the same underground community and seem willing enough.”
Nick regarded her silently for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to convince her that getting the manacles back was an urgent matter without revealing too much. He’d assumed she and Raphael wouldn’t need much convincing, because of their personal experience with the manacles. And it had seemed to be enough, right up until the moment Isaac Marshall was identified as the buyer. Cyn had a point about Marshall not being violent, and not particularly dangerous, at least not overtly . . . though he had no doubts that Marshall would feel quite justified in killing anyone who tried to steal from him. Unfortunately, that only argued against going after the damn things, because it might be more dangerous to try to take them, rather than leaving them in place.
But Nick had reasons of his own for getting the manacles into his own collection. Reasons he wasn’t eager to share. He glanced up and found the damn vampire staring at him, his black eyes intent and seeing far too much. Suddenly, the vamp’s lips curled into a smug smile, and he laughed.
CYN JOLTED IN surprise when Raphael laughed. Not only because he didn’t laugh like that very often, but because there was a cruel edge to it that she found troubling. She opened her mouth to ask what was going on, but in the same moment, everything changed.
Nick jumped to his feet, kicking the heavy coffee table out of the way as he launched an attack. She felt the faintest brush of his power before Raphael roared his fury and shoved her aside, pulling on his own power to slam Nick backward, the force of his attack so great that the sofa Nick had been sitting on went flying toward the door. The two of
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