Page 33 of The Fate of Black Hearts

Dom swirled the glass of wine that had been poured for him and sniffed. The liquid’s smoky fig essence teased his nose, but he didn’t sip. “Are we done?”

“Not quite yet,” came a new voice. His half-brother’s traditional gray robes fluttered around him as he sat across from Dom. Gray hairs wove their way through his short, brown hair. The color change was odd for their kind, who didn’t age. Mages shouldn’t wrinkle or gray like older humans. He’d have to research if there was documentation in his personal library of what it meant when this happened.

Dom leaned back and prepared himself forsomething terrible. If anyone wanted to inflict pain on him, it was his brother, who now sat at the head of the Conclave’s table. He hadn’t always been so malicious toward Dom. Something changed after Dom’s prophecy. “Marik. Did they see you for who you really are yet? Did you get voted out as head mage?”

Dojin sucked in a breath, compressing his lips against a smile. He hid it by taking a sip of the wine.

Marik brimmed with conceit. He knew something or had done something.To me?

Dom’s hand tingled. He stared at it, realizing they’d somehow poisoned him. Something he’d touched? Maybe the wineglass. A hazy lethargy swamped his brain.

When they seek to hurt you, use the power.

“What were you doing last night?” Marik leaned forward to rest his pointy chin on his tented hands. His extreme facial features reminded Dom of a pious bishop with a stick up his ass.

They’d poisoned him with a truth potion. He forced out, “Regular day. Protect the world from evil shits. Save those who can’t fight for themselves.”

“There was a huge ripple in the Source.”

“Maybe it wasn’t me. Maybe it was. I was pretty pissed off yesterday at that particular shit.”

“You seem different somehow.” Marik squinted and tapped his lip. “What do you do for the Fates?”

“That’s between me and them.” He felt obligated to spew specifics on his relationship with the Fates.

Don’t. Do not speak. You read about how to get rid of poison.

When third-level energy was attained it could be used to purge potions from the blood. To power theenergy, he needed an emotional charge…or so he’d read. He cloaked himself in the memory of Evie’s hug. The power rushed him, surrounded him. Ignoring the increasing fog in his brain and Marik’s insistent questions, he harnessed the power.

He directed the energy to eliminate anything foreign by imagining the bits of potion inside his body. With an imaginary pull, he removed it from his body. His skin burned as if ignited with fire, like grains of sand were being pushed out through his pores. He collected all the bits of liquid hovering around him into a sphere in his hand and chucked the remnants of potion at Marik.

Marik wiped liquid off his face.

“You’re at level three? How is that possible?” Dojin gasped. “Wow.”

Marik’s lower jaw had gone slack.

“Perhaps meditation and abstinence are the key.” Dom backed away from the table. “Try living by the Code instead of preaching about it.”

“You’re up to something,” Marik accused.

“I’m not at liberty to play human assassin for you. I can assure you I do not have any woman in my life we need to worry about. Never a pleasure, gentlemen.”

He saluted and left.

Chapter Ten

Present day

Evie didn’t take time to knock before entering the brick house in desperate need of repair on the outskirts of Paris. The door had been unlocked. No alarm system seemed to be in place. Odd for a lycan to be so careless. Even in modern times werewolf hunters could find them.

She pushed aside two muddy boots discarded near the door.

A right turn led her into a kitchen that reeked of weed and old Indian food. Dishes sat unwashed in and around the sink. Numerous empty bottles of tequila, vodka, and sangria sat on the counter. Discarded takeout containers littered the countertops. Two ashtrays filled with cigarette butts sat on the counter. Most lycans didn’t smoke. It didn’t affect them.

A woman’s giggle filtered from the back of the house.

She marched toward the bedrooms and entered the only occupied one without knocking. “Leave us.”