Page 85 of Between Imminent Fates

Chapter Six

Derikles

Though the problems continuedto mount, answers weren’t forthcoming. Everything about the night of the battle was speculation. The survivors sat around in a town hall, attempting to piece together a puzzle that’d been broken, burned up, and put through a grinder.

If they never discovered the truth, it’d kill a part of Derikles. A part that he desperately wanted to save.

As talks of immortal social reform petered out Zeke’s attention turned to Nero. “When were you going to tell us you were a Lock?”

The Hawaiian sovereign looked Zeke dead in the eye when he said, “Never.”

“Why did you Lock me on the battlefield?”

Neither of the centuries old Raeths rose in confrontation. Derikles remained ready, the antagonism enough to make him primed for violence. Nero remained calm, and he would’ve applauded the other man had it not be in direct contrast to Zeke.

“Key had instructed me to prior to the battle,” Nero said. “She was adamant. I trusted her.”

“If you ever Lock me again,friend, I’ll kill you.”

At the threat, Nero simply nodded. “Understood.”

Moreso that ever before, Derikles found himself admiring the Osé sovereign’s poise. If Derikles was to maintain his position, he’d need an ally—and a mentor to truly benefit his people. Nero had just risen to the top of the list.

“Can we actually discuss Rayn now?”

Derikles’ attention shifted back to where Rukia sat beside him. Her voice was frighteningly hollow, so unusual for a woman of her fierce spirit.

“Why did Rayn want to kill Isaiah?”

“We haven’t interrogated him yet,” came Nero’s gentle reply. “It’s been … low on our list of priorities.”

And it had been. Derikles hadn’t even remembered the traitorous Raeth existed until they’d brought him up at the meeting, but his blood boiled at the mention. He thought back to the field of battle, remembering how Rayn had attempted to assassinate Isaiah as he saved their species.

“I volunteer,” Derikles spat, the edge of his voice sharp enough to cut bricks. “I’m more than happy to interrogate him myself.”

Nero shook his head. “We need someone who’s capable of being objective towards him—and doesn’t want to kill him—not the new sovereign of Isaiah’s clan.” His head gave a jerk, his lips tightening. “Your clan. Apologies.”

Derikles felt the exact moment in the attention of the room shifted to him. The questions followed almost immediately.

“How did that happen, Derikles?” Kaien asked. “How are you now the sovereign of a clan you never challenged for?”

“We believe Isaiah was searching for a way to shift the sovereignty,” he replied. “Apparently, he found it.”

A quick survey of the room found that the vampires, werewolves, and Elementals looked at him with something akin to begrudging acceptance. The Raeths wore looks of bewilderment, pity, or scrutiny.

All except one. The pink haired one.

She studied him openly as though she was trying to figure him out. He allowed his gaze to linger on her slightly longer than was socially acceptable in turn.

There was killer seduction in her curves and fire in her gaze. Purple lipstick stained pouty, plump lips, and a row of piercings glinted in her ears. Fishnet stockings covered her shapely legs until they met calf-high biker boots. From the moment she’d arrived, she had watched everyone with a hawk’s keenness. Nothing escaped her notice. Even more impressive was that when she spoke about the issues of their race, she did it with class and determination.

She intrigued him.

And then Nero ruined his moment of fascination. “He’s been given a bottle of water and several RTE meals every day, but no expense was afforded for his comfort. We need to interrogate him and figure out what he knows and why he partnered with theCitizens. I won’t have that scum on my island any longer than I have to.”

Derikles leaned back in his chair. “Set the day. If my involvement is frowned upon, I’ll audit.”

Nero nodded.

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