On a Razor's Edge (Darkness #3)(6)

Stefan settled into a chair, his chest turned toward the Regional with the respect due his station, Stefan's eyes able to meet his superiors now that he’d acknowledged the other male’s status. Hard brown eyes of brutality in a weather beaten face stared back. You didn’t get to be the Boss without being able to hold your own against an entire clan. You didn’t become Regional without that same trait, only against a helluva lot more people.

Dominicous extended a scarred hand toward the other man sitting in the room. “This is Toa. He is my linked mage and excels in intricate magical working and application. He is the strongest white outside of the Council.”

He pronounced it like “toe.” Sasha would get a kick out of that if she was privileged enough to meet him.

Long, straight hair so blond it might’ve been white framed Toa, while cold blue eyes stared out of a pristine face. With such smooth skin and beautifully elegant features, this male appeared feminine. Those eyes, though, sent a chill to the core of Stefan. Death lived in those eyes.

Stefan’s hackles rose, another challenge slipping into his gaze before he had to, once again, drag his eyes downward.

“Again, just barely on the safe side of a challenge. It seems you are outgrowing your post,” Dominicous remarked lightly.

“No, Regional. Haven’t seen a superior in some time.”

“I see. On to business, or would you rather a few minutes to discuss pleasantries?”

“Business would do me fine.”

“Splendid.” The Regional bowed his head, his gaze focused on his scuffed fingernails before he went on. “First order of business. We have had a startling request from this clan. A female with the black power level. Is this correct?”

“Correct. A human.”

“Yes.”

If that bothered either of them, Stefan would never know. Blondie hadn’t moved more than his eyes since Stefan had come into the room.

“And you have marked her, is that correct?” Dominicous continued.

Stefan tried to emulate Blondie but it felt like fire ants danced up his back. “It is.”

“We will come back to that.” Dominicous draped one long leg over the other, a gesture Stefan recognized as Dominicous’ version of comfort. “You know, I assume, that the black power level is so rare it is nearly a myth. It requires a different type of training since the magic reacts differently than what we deem “normal.” Sometimes the black level is a disguise for a lower level white. A strange mix of power and use, you see. We’ve had a few proclamations of the black level this year alone. All were false.”

The fire ants started to bite down.

“Toa has come all this way, however, to make sure,” Dominicous continued. “We like to be thorough where this is concerned. Finding a black power level would…tip certain battles in our favor. Even if those battles are not officially acknowledged.”

Blondie’s stare was starting to get irritating.

“So, we shall test her momentarily. There is another subject that needs discussion. Our Council has entered into an agreement with the North American Mata—or, to the layman, Shape Changers.” Dominicous paused for effect.

Stefan wanted to tell him to get on with it. He knew what the hell they called themselves, and didn’t care. They were a nuisance, under the impression that because they actually changed into animals, rather than just embodying some of the customary territorial and aggressive traits of animal hunters, like Stefan’s species, that their claims to territory should be upheld. They had a magic of sorts, sure—certainly more defined than that of traditional humans—but they couldn’t hold a candle to Stefan’s clan in the fighting realm. They had tried. And gotten a smack down. Nobody f**ked with Stefan’s clan, even a white mage. Period.

“We believe the upheaval of those wanting to proclaim themselves to humans—I believe one of their faction reside in this city—the Eastern Territory.” At Stefan’s nod, Dominicous continued, “They are seeking to unite with other non-human entities. There are a few that could pose a real threat if amassed in numbers. The Mata are one.”

Stefan didn’t like where this was going. And gods be damned, he was about ready to bash Blondie’s head against the table to stop that flat-eyed stare.

“We have made an agreement, as I said, with the Alpha of the Mata. All those in his influence will unite. It is shaky ground, as I am sure you know. Our kind and theirs don’t get along well. And haven’t for centuries upon centuries. But we need them, and they will eventually need us when the scientists figure out what the rare strand of cancer that creates the ability to change shape really is. And really does.”

“And how does this relate to me directly?” Stefan asked with a calm he didn’t feel.

“I think you know.”

Stefan couldn’t help a flex. “We have a standing truce with them, for now. They don’t come in my territories, I don’t intrude on theirs.”

“That is not enough. You must unite forces. You must be able to fight together. Nolan, the male leading the upheaval against our kind staying in the shadows, has a rare talent for speech. He bends people to his will, promising power, world domination, and other such nonsense. Mages are particularly keen for power, craving it more than most, and flock to his side. We have greater numbers, but he is gathering greater power.”