Chapter 3

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    The stranger was warning her to keep away from the Lycans, but he didn’t know who she was either. If he did, he might change his mind on who was the actual prey. Even so, Nevaeh let him believe what he wanted. Most people underestimated her due to her gender and physique. Little did they know…     “Noted.” Nevaeh sniffed out the stranger as discreetly as she could, but didn’t smell wolf or Lycan on him. Oddly, he barely passed as human, which started the wave of red flags. Yet, she did not move away, arrested by his lazy smirk.     He chuckled as he tousled hair at the crown of his head. “So, what did you pick up?” with his brows wagging.     Nevaeh's eyes squinted, arms crossing over her chest. He’d obviously caught her hounding him. “Not quite human, but not wolf or Lycan. What are you?” She tried to sound unimpressed, but this guy was hot enough to deserve any girl to salivate over him. So, she gave him that.     “I’m one hundred percent werewolf, Princess,” he gave her a meaningful look. “And I am the man you’ve been waiting for.”      Nevaeh rolled her eyes and snickered at his innuendo. "Doubt it." Well, she wouldn't say no to a make-out session or anything, though. She cleared her throat, refocusing. "What makes you think you're my type?"     He looked her up and down with a long, heated sweep before winking when he caught her eye. "Because I'm not looking for a forever ever after and neither are you. So, for tonight, it could work." He then ribbed, "But all flirting aside, I really am the man you're looking for. Gamma Rhys. Your contact," he winked before notably inhaling, his brow furrowing slightly. “You have a story to tell too, huh? Your scent isn’t completely wolf either.”      “Born this way,” she shrugged, “but I am a werewolf. What’s your story? Why don’t you smell right?” She tried to remain unfazed by his admission, though her mind reeled. “What’s your secret, Gamma Rhys?”     Rhys kept his voice low. “My secret is to never come to a Lycan’s party without the proper camouflage.” He lifted up his hand, wiggly his middle finger to showcase a simple gold ring. “Didn’t your Alpha King daddy teach you these things in that warrior princess academy of his?”     “Ah, of course. An obfuscate ring.” She nodded as her attention glued to the trinket. With whatever charm was imbued in it, the ring worked like a glamour spell and hid whatever the wearer wanted. In this case, the Gamma was hiding his species. “Well, to be fair, I didn’t know I was going to need to hide who I am, nor that this place would be crawling with Lycans. I’ve never met one and had been told they were so rare, I’d probably never see one.”     “Unless they want to be seen,” he growled. His distaste for the Lycans was evident in his snarled lips. “But yes, the stuck up pricks usually keep themselves away from us dirty peasants. Unfortunately, within the past three years, they’ve crawled down from the their lofty thrones and mucked around London.”     “Why?” Nevaeh asked, looking over her shoulder to see if the Lycans who had razzed earlier were still eyeing her. A few were watching, but their eye-shine had settled to their human color. “What made them come here?”     Something flashed across Gamma Rhys’ expression, but whatever it meant remained hidden as he changed the subject. “Tell me again what brought your pretty face all the way here from America?”      “Well,” Nevaeh nodded, shifting back to all-business, “your email said you were able to translate some of the old language from the script we sent you. I am hoping when you said ‘some’ you meant like over fifty percent? What language was that, anyway?”     “Dunno specifically, but it’s an extremely old demonic language, for sure.” Gamma Rhys nodded. “You’re lucky I knew someone who could read it. Most who would even know it are swallowed up under the earth somewhere.” Nevaeh held her breath, wondering if he was referring to the Underground demon world of Orașul Sângelui.  Not many were aware it existed. She only did because some of the Arkadíans who went through her father’s warrior program actually were stationed in the macabre underground world to guard its exits so the demons and devils who lived down there would not ever leave. “What does your family want with this information anyway?”     Nevaeh’s expression chilled. “We aren’t paying you to know that, Gamma Rhys.” She pressed, “Your email said you had information for us and that we should come meet you in London to get it. Now, you tell me why you made this pretty face come all the way from America to fetch it?” she smirked.     “Touché.” Gamma Rhys’ upper lip twitched. “The script you sent brought up the prophecy of the qui dat pacem.” He watched her for a moment. “And, I see no reaction from you, so I assume you’re already aware what this prophecy is about?”     “A bit,” she nodded. Well, that was an understatement. She knew everything about the prophecy except those aggravating parts that they had to outsource to people like Gamma Rhys to help translate. It was a matter of her brother’s well-being to decipher everything there was to know, so when the day came that he would have to take his place in the Prophecy, he would not fail. Nevaeh shrugged, downplaying, “Some s**t is going to go down between the good guys and the bad guys, and the Qui dat Pacem, or rather the Bringer of Peace, will stop it.  But we already knew that part. What do you got for me?” Nevaeh crossed her arms over her chest as she looked down at him.      She was already used to disappointment when it came to the research of this damn prophecy. There were a lot of dead-ends that they had to weed through over the years especially since some of it was in a language no one on this damn planet seemed to know. So, when they got word that the Shere Wood Pack here in London had knowledge of the prophecy, it lifted her family’s hopes a bit. Nevaeh, like many of her siblings, had devoted her Arkadían training to prepare and help Tate with the prophecy, mostly because she wanted to see her eldest brother survive whatever hell was tagged to him the moment he was born.       “The portion of the prophecy you sent had to do with a weapon,” he kept his voice down. Gamma Rhys removed his cell phone from his pocket and scrolled the screen for a bit before he turned it to Nevaeh. “I’ll forward all this info to your phone when we’re done here, but this is what it says.” He cleared his throat, “The Dèanadair, or the Bringer of Darkness, needs the nal jealot, otherwise known as moon blade, to finalize the ritual.” Gamma Rhys' eyes flicked up to her.     “What ritual? What does this demon want to do?” So, if they got this moon blade before the Bringer of Darkness did, they would have the upper hand and maybe prevent any sort of end of days battle. Challenge accepted!     “That, I couldn’t figure out. It wasn’t in the script you sent me.” He exhaled, “But, I would wager it doesn’t mean anything good.”     “Does it say what this moon blade looks like? How do I know it when I see it?” She pressed.      “Yes, it did mention that.” He nodded. “The weapon is more ornamental than it is battle-ready. You could slice and dice someone with it, but it’s not meant for that. The magic in the moon blade will grant its holder limitless power.” Gamma Rhys flipped defiant strands of brown hair back away from his eyes before he continued reading. “Two wicked steel blades that bow upward and nearly touch over the shaft’s top. To me, that sounds like a battle axe of some sort. The shaft is made of black obsidian etched with demon scribble--.”     “--demon scribble?” She chuckled, an eyebrow rose.     Gamma Rhys smiled up at her. Damn, he was hot. “Ok, runes. Demon runes.” He continued. “The strapping is dyed red and is said to be made of human skin.”       Nevaeh made a face. “Sounds charming.” She then asked, “So, tell me again why I couldn’t have just had this meeting over a zoom call or in an email.”     “To give you a sense of adventure in your life,” he winked.     She smirked. “I have plenty of that, believe me.” A little too much and she had scars to prove it.     “Because,” Gamma Rhys shoved his phone back in his pocket before answering her question, “word is, that weapon I assume you’ll be looking for now is local. In England somewhere.”     “Really?” Her eyes popped. “How do you know?” “When I started poking my nose in this prophecy business, I noticed a lot more supernaturals interested in it, too. Namely, the local demon community. Meaning, it’s a rat race now on who finds it first.” He handed her a folded piece of paper. “This is the address of an old church not too far from here. My contact said you’d be interested in what you find there.”     “Do you think the moon blade is here at this address?”      Gamma Rhys shrugged, “I didn’t go looking. From the demons I saw who are searching for this weapon too, I think you shouldn’t go looking either if you don’t have to.”     “I have to,” Nevaeh said nonchalantly as she opened the paper and looked over the address. “I have no choice.”     “By all the effort you’ve seemed to put into this, I didn’t think so. Alright then. Good luck.” He stood from the chair. When he stood, he towered over her 5’9 height by a good 6 inches. So, now she was looking up at him instead of down.     “Thank you, Gamma Rhys. We appreciate your Intel. My father will forward you p*****t as soon as I report back to him.” When Nevaeh turned to go, he caught her arm. She looked back at him, her brow furrowed. Despite their flirting earlier, she did not give him permission to touch her! “Hands off.”     “Relax.” He removed his hand quickly, then lifted both up to show he meant no harm. “I just wanted to give you something.” Reaching into his jeans pocket, he presented her with three rings akin to the one he was wearing. “Your email said you’d only have three people here tonight,” he looked over Nevaeh’s shoulder and shrugged at Ben. “Sorry, I don’t have one for your bodyguard.” He dropped them into her hand. “If you’re going to be here for a while, at the party or in London, you’ll want to stay under the Lycan radar.”     Nevaeh studied the rings, flipping them over in her hand with her finger. She smirked up at him, “Gamma Rhys, does this mean we’re going steady now?”     His lip twitched as his eyes danced once more with her banter. “Although the invitation is very appealing, I’d like to keep my balls intact and out of the hand of the Alpha King, so that would be a no.” Gamma Rhys then added, nodding down at her hand. “But, if you don’t get yourself killed… by a demon or one of these pieces of s**t Lycans, I’m open to entertaining the idea.” His smoldering expression heated her cheeks.     Nevaeh tried to hide her blush within a smirk, playing off of him, before flirting changed into something else. “If these Lycans are anything like the Barbie, they need to be watching their backs for me.” Nevaeh tilted her head, asking, “Why did we meet up here of all places? It’s obvious you hate them.”     “Yep, no love lost here,” he grunted and again his face darkened. “But oddly, this place was the safest to meet if we were to talk about what we did. No demon in their right mind will mess with a Lycan in their lair, so it's a safe bet we don’t have any eavesdropping on our conversation.” His hand flared out toward the mansion. “But, I also have other stuff I gotta do here, too.” His eyes said things his mouth did not when he said, “Keep in touch.” He didn’t allude to what the other stuff was, giving her a half wave and then walked away.  Over his shoulder, Gamma Rhys added, “Good luck, Princess. Hell is sure to follow you.”     “I’ll be waiting for it.” Nevaeh shot back at him. 
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