Harley Merlin and the Cult of Eris (Harley Merlin, #6)

No way, beastie.

I hadn’t come all this way just to fall at the first hurdle. The National Council hadn’t done us any favors, pushing their agents into the cult and getting themselves found out and killed. Naima’s suspicion of us was palpable, disguises or no disguises. I realized pretty quickly that we’d have to do something drastic to win her trust.

“I guess all of those spies said the same thing, but we aren’t traitors.” I sucked in a breath. “In fact, we’ve got intel you might want. See, there’s already a mole inside the cult. That’s why we’ve come to you. The authorities are getting too close to Katherine, and we want to stop them from worming their way in.”

Naima flashed her fangs in annoyance, while Finch shot me a what-the-hell-are-you-doing kind of look. I ignored him, keeping my focus on Naima. She was our only safe way into the cult, and if we didn’t make this one shot, we might as well have gone home right then.

“I’ve got contacts in the National Council—rebels who hate the system just as much as we do. Someone is giving them information from inside the cult. We just don’t know who. My brother and I hoped we could help.” I kept up the play, more determined than ever. It felt a little strange to call him my brother out loud. Even with the disguises on and our fresh identities, it was pretty much the truth. Half-brother, I had to remind myself, to keep some distance between us.

Finch nodded. “The authorities have never done us any favors. If they’ve got someone inside the cult, we want to expose them. For Katherine’s sake. If she’s going to create a new world order, we can’t have anyone getting close enough to take her down.”

“Our source inside the National Council kept us under the radar for a year after that ‘accident’ with the polar bears,” I continued, bouncing off Finch. “They created the story to keep the do-gooders off our tail. He’s trustworthy, our guy. We’ve got no reason to doubt him or the intel he’s given us.”

“Yeah, and if Katherine’s game, we can provide her with the National Council’s intel directly. If that’s what it takes to prove we’re here solely to serve her, then we’re more than willing to give up what we’ve got,” Finch added.

Naima said nothing for an age. “What intel, exactly?” she purred at last.

“Our source told us that the Librarian had been taken by Katherine but had managed to escape. They discovered where the Librarian went after she escaped Katherine, at our request. We were planning to go to the Paris Coven ourselves to finish the job, but then we heard someone had beaten us to it and killed her in the infirmary,” I said, not missing a beat.

Naima smirked. “Apologies for that. Time was of the essence. I had to complete the task before she could recover from the addling that had jumbled her mind into nonsense.”

“You did it?” I kept my expression amazed, not wanting her to see the anger that bubbled beneath.

“Naturally.” She flashed a proud grin, baring her fangs. “Katherine gave me the mission personally, and I could not disappoint her. It was so easy, in the end—like cutting through butter. I confess, I left a bit of a mess, but at least the job got done.”

“I doubt we’d have made a cleaner job of it. My sister here can get a little volatile when she wants to. I’ve seen a man explode after she filled his veins full of water. Not pretty, but totally cool.” Finch gave a wry laugh. I forced a twisted smile onto my face, even though I wanted to make a mess of Naima right there in the alleyway. You killed her, you heartless bitch. I vowed to remember that so I could take my revenge when Katherine was out of the picture. I’d made a promise to Odette, to protect and save her, and Naima had made me break it. I’d break her for that.

Naima stared at us for several minutes, leaving us hanging. I hated her with every fiber of my being, but that didn’t change the fact that we needed her. Vengeance could wait, and I had it in buckets. Heck, the list was getting longer by the day: Katherine, Naima, Kenneth Willow, Levi…

“Follow me.” She turned without another word and headed off down the alleyway, prompting us to scurry after her like eager rats. Still, I couldn’t help breathing a sigh of relief as we trailed after her. This could be it—the entry point we’d been waiting for. I just hoped the risk paid off, as I realized I might have just gotten the National Council’s mole in a big old pot of hot water.

Nevertheless, I wasn’t about to let my guard drop, and I knew it would be stupid of me to think we were just going to waltz through what was to come. Naima was not the kind of woman—or rather, Purge beast—to be underestimated. Yeah, she was Katherine’s lackey, but she was also a creature of Chaos, with a sharper mind than she cared to reveal. Pretending to be a simple, brutish follower of the cult seemed to be part of her act. Plus, I’d have to be very careful about what intel I chose to give up going forward.

We followed Naima down a labyrinth of quaint streets, drawing a few looks from the neighborhoods we went through. A hooded figure wasn’t exactly a comforting sight. Then again, I figured they’d just think we were part of some reenactment group. Salem tended to be rife with that kind of thing, the town reliving its dark past with a macabre sense of enthusiasm.

Before long, we reached an eight-story building on the corner of some unknown road. An American flag was flying from the central balcony. The building was painted a pretty shade of jade green, the trimmings washed with crisp white. It looked like it had just come out of Hocus Pocus, and I expected the Sanderson sisters to come rushing out, singing at the top of their lungs and charming innocent kids across the neighborhood.

The real-estate dream I’ll never have. I followed Naima up the wooden steps as she pushed through the front door. Judging by the reception desk, it was a hotel of some kind. An enormous gold-and-crystal chandelier hung from the ornate ceiling overhead, casting shards of light across the plush crimson carpet. Service staff in scarlet uniforms crossed the foyer, while guests lounged on velvet sofas, and soft piano music drifted out from one of the adjoining rooms.

This didn’t seem like Naima’s bag, but then I supposed that was a little judgmental. Yeah, she was a Purge beast, but who was I to say that meant she didn’t like the finer things in life? The staff seemed to know her very well, all of them greeting her with bright smiles and elegant bows. I guessed the fact that she had a furry face and a mean set of fangs didn’t mean a whole lot to them. Clients are clients, right, as long as they’ve got the dollar to pay?

Glancing back at the other people in the foyer, I noticed one of the clients wearing a long, striking necklace, the ruby in the center glowing slightly. Bronze tendrils rippled across her fingers as she spoke to the guy beside her, like someone trying to flip a coin between their knuckles. The understanding clicked into place: this wasn’t an ordinary hotel.

“Ah, Miss Naima, a pleasure to see you back among us,” the receptionist—a middle-aged man in a sharp suit—said, as she approached the desk. “Your usual suite is ready.” He took a key from one of the hooks and slid it across the counter, a polite smile fixed on his thin lips.

Weird…