Claiming Valeria Read online

  CLAIMING VALERIA

  A FADA NOVEL BOOK 2

  REBECCA RIVARD

  Wild Hearts Press

  THE FADA SHAPESHIFTER SERIES

  Prepare to be ensnared…

  The fada.

  Shapeshifters created during Dionysus’s infamous bacchanals.

  They’re ruthless, untamed—

  and irresistible to the one person fated to be their mate.

  Welcome to the world of the fada. Claiming Valeria is the second in a series of three novels featuring the Rock Run river fada, a clan of river-based shapeshifters.

  Here is the series so far:

  The Rock Run River Fada

  Seducing the Sun Fae: A Fada Novel, Book 1 (Dion and Cleia’s story)—out now!

  Claiming Valeria: A Fada Novel, Book 2 (Rui and Valeria’s story)—out now!

  Tempting the Dryad: A Fada Novel, Book 3 (Tiago and Alesia’s story)—out in early 2016!

  The Baltimore Earth Fada

  Coming soon—Jace, Marjani and Adric’s stories!

  Table of Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  EPILOGUE

  A Note from the Author

  Copyright

  PROLOGUE

  Two Years Earlier

  The night fae lord materialized in the darkest corner of the alley.

  But Rui was expecting that. The night fae were creatures of the moon. You rarely saw one in the daylight, and even at dusk they sought the shadows.

  This man could’ve been the pattern from which his people were cut: tall and lean, with chalk-white skin, midnight hair and sharp features. And dressed in tight black jeans and a long duster even though Baltimore was in the middle of a heat wave.

  Rui’s lip curled. He didn’t like any fae, but he especially didn’t like the night fae. Still, a job was a job.

  He inclined his head. “Lord Tyrus.”

  “Do Mar?”

  “That’s me. Peace to you and yours.”

  Tyrus hesitated just long enough to be insulting before returning the ritual greeting. “Peace to you and yours.”

  Rui’s jaw tightened. But he hadn’t become Rock Run second by indulging his emotions. “You wanted to hire me?”

  Tyrus flicked his fingers and an image of a man appeared in Rui’s palm. “His name is Silver. He’s in Baltimore somewhere—my people have tracked him this far, but we can’t get a fix on him.”

  Rui studied the image. The man—Silver—had dark hair and pale skin, although it was clear he wasn’t a pureblood. His face was too broad, his eyes a muddy brown rarely found in a fae.

  “He’s a half-blood,” Tyrus said, confirming Rui’s guess. “His mother was human.” His voice held a sneer.

  “Anything I can use to scent him?”

  “I have a few strands of his hair. You can use it to do whatever it is you shifters do.” The sneer was more pronounced now. The fae looked down on anyone who wasn’t a pureblood, but they had a special disdain for the fada with their mix of human, fae and animal genes.

  Rui ignored the scorn. Tyrus might sneer at his animal genes, but that was why he was hiring a fada assassin. Rui wouldn’t be the hunter he was without his animal. And although hunting a man mainly involved old-fashioned legwork—questioning known associates, tracking him through credit cards and bank accounts—even a few strands of hair would make things easier, allowing him to track the man through his scent as well.

  He wasn’t sure why he asked the next question. He’d already talked it over with Dion, his alpha and best friend, and together, they’d decided to take the job. But something made him say, “What did he do?”

  The image in his hand dissolved.

  “The S.O.B. ripped me off,” Tyrus snarled. “He knows what that means. Now, do we have an agreement?”

  Rui stared back at him without speaking, his face expressionless, but he felt his eyes going night-glow gold, a sign his animal was aroused.

  Tyrus took a step back.

  Good. He might be the son of a fae prince, but he needed to remember whom he was dealing with. As clan second, Rui was answerable only to Dion. No one—especially some asshole pureblood from Virginia—spoke to him like that.

  The night fae gave an audible swallow. When he spoke again, his tone was more polite. “You don’t need to know what he stole. All I want you to do is send a message—no one steals from Lord Tyrus.”

  So Silver wasn’t going to be given a chance to make things right. Rui didn’t even blink. If he’d ever been squeamish about acting as a fae hit man, he’d long since made his peace with it. Hunger had a way of making a man hard-hearted, especially when his women and children were suffering, too.

  “All right.”

  “Then we’re agreed? You’ll take the job?”

  “Of course.” What did he care if the fae picked one another off?

  “Good.” Tyrus’s black eyes flickered with an unholy glee that raised the tiny hairs on Rui’s nape. Something was off here. But the night fae was tossing him a small black pouch. “That’s the deposit. You’ll get the spell when I confirm the kill.”

  Rui opened the pouch. Inside were three small but perfect diamonds. Purebloods loved expensive, shiny things. Frankly, he and Dion would’ve preferred a direct deposit into the clan account.

  He closed the pouch. “I’ll let you know when it’s done. We expect the rest of the payment within the week.”

  “Don’t contact me directly—go through Hunter.” Hunter was a Baltimore earth fada who worked at the Full Moon Saloon, a bar catering to shifters.

  Rui jerked his head in acknowledgment. As long as Tyrus kept his part of the bargain, he was just as happy not to have to deal with him again, although it went against the grain to let the Baltimore fada have anything to do with Rock Run business.

  “And, do Mar?” Tyrus stepped closer.

  Rui’s nostrils flared. Night fae stunk, an acrid mix of metal and decay. Rumor had it they made their homes in crypts, and smelling Tyrus, Rui could believe it.

  “What?”

  The reply was low and cold. “Don’t fuck this up—or you’re next.”

  Rui’s fingers tightened on the pouch. For the amount the diamonds would bring, he could slip a blade in Tyrus’s aristocratic chest and walk away with the clan twenty-five thousand dollars richer. Not even a pureblood could survive a knife to the heart.

  But Rock Run desperately needed the second half of Tyrus’s payment—a promise to renew the concealing spell that hid their base from intruders. The clan was gripped by a mysterious malady that was slowly weakening them. And not just the people themselves, although that was bad enough. Even their crops and river had been affected. The grapes that produced the wine that was the clan’s main source of income were rotting in the vineyards, and every year the fishers brought in less fish and crabs.

  If Rock Run’s troubles became generally known
, they’d be easy pickings for the Baltimore shifters, who’d long coveted the clan’s large tract of land in northern Maryland.

  And to top it off, Rui had recently met his mate, a sexy Portuguese shifter named Valeria. Their mating celebration was in a couple of weeks, which made him even more eager to get that concealing spell. It wasn’t just other men’s families he was protecting now. It was his own woman and their future children.

  Right now, the spell was as valuable to Rock Run—and Rui—as a thousand diamonds.

  Still, he couldn’t resist peeling back his lips to display two sharp canines. Tyrus went whiter, if that were possible. But he was a pureblood fae, taught from birth that all other life forms were inferior. He held his ground.

  Rui gave Tyrus his back—a grave insult, implying the other man was too weak to worry about—and stalked out of the alley.

  * * *

  The half-blood was damn good at hiding. It took Rui almost a week to find him.

  But Rui’s primary animal was a shark. He was calm, cold, relentless. As a water fada, he tended to short out computers and other electronics, so he paid a human hacker to track Silver through the digital crumbs he’d dropped. That got him close, and then he kept at it until his questions—and his nose—led him to a shabby little rowhouse on a street less than a mile from the alley where he’d met Tyrus.

  Now he studied the narrow house, one of a row of twelve that stretched from one corner to the next. So this was where Silver had gone to ground. The house was as sad and neglected as the surrounding area—a sagging roof, a chipped and faded Formstone exterior and a yard that was more dirt than grass.

  Whatever the half-blood had stolen, he sure hadn’t cashed in on it.

  Silver roomed with a human who worked nights. Rui slipped into the backyard and waited until the man left. One by one, the lights went out. Rui waited another half an hour before skimming across the lawn to the back door. It was locked, but it was a few second’s work to dig out the rotted wood around the bolt and ease the door open. A simple warding spell halted him on the threshold. He withdrew a pinch of precious counterspell dust from its packet, sprinkled it on the doorjamb and stepped into the kitchen.

  The air inside was hot and close, not much different than the humid summer night outside. Rui took in his surroundings with his animal-enhanced senses: the red plastic table with three mismatched chairs…the greasy remains of a pizza on the counter…the smear of chocolate ice cream in a bowl in the sink. From upstairs came the sound of a man snoring, the ragged buzz a counterpoint to the distant hum of a window air conditioner.

  He glanced down and jolted. A small face was staring up at him. Then he realized it was a doll.

  Deus. He scrubbed a hand over his face. He wasn’t usually so edgy.

  He picked up the doll. It was a clown, its baggy satin suit tattered from much handling. He brought it to his face and inhaled, scenting the child who owned it: sweet, happy innocence.

  He cursed under his breath. Tyrus hadn’t said anything about a child—a girl, from the scent. Children were rare and special gifts. There was no way in hell he’d harm one.

  And how had he missed the fact that a child was here? He was working alone, he and Dion having agreed that since Baltimore was technically earth fada territory, the quieter they kept this the better. Still, Rui had spent the past couple of days observing the house, studying the occupants and learning their routine. The half-blood couldn’t have brought her in without him knowing—unless he was working some kind of fae magic to hide her.

  Rui placed the clown on the kitchen table and headed for the stairs. With any luck, its owner was somewhere else—with her mother, perhaps.

  As he reached the top of the stairs, he slipped a switchblade from his pocket and pressed the button. The blade slid out with a soft snick.

  Down the hall, the sleeper mumbled something.

  Rui stilled, his back against the wall.

  Five minutes ticked by, then ten. The only sound was the bedroom air conditioner and the slow drip of a faucet in the bathroom across the hall. Rui waited, unmoving. His Gift was tracking. With it came a predator’s patience, whether his prey was animal—or man.

  The sleeper resumed snoring. Rui palmed the knife and continued down the hall. He passed two bedrooms, one empty save for a sagging couch. The other must be the human’s room; it was sparsely furnished with an ancient dresser and a mattress and box spring covered by a colorful Indian bedspread.

  Rui reached the bedroom where the half-blood slept. The door was closed, presumably to keep the cool air in. The snoring had stopped again, but he could hear the slow, steady breath of someone in a deep sleep. Soundlessly, he turned the knob and pushed the door open a few inches. He drew a breath, checking for the half-blood’s unique scent: a mix of iron (from his human half) and silver (from the fae half), along with a touch of salt.

  But the girl’s sweet scent filled the air as well. The iron and silver notes told him she was related to the half-blood, that he was almost certainly her father.

  Rui’s hand tightened on the knife handle.

  Fucking fae. Tyrus had to have known that the half-blood had a daughter. But he apparently didn’t give a shit.

  He almost said to hell with it and left. But Tyrus would make a powerful enemy—and Dion had asked Rui to do this job for a reason. He was Rock Run’s best assassin—and they needed that concealing spell. They’d never be able to pay the huge amount demanded by the night fae to cast it.

  No, they’d been forced to barter: a job for a job.

  And in the end, an assassin didn’t judge the rightness or wrongness of a kill. He just did what he’d been hired to do.

  The door jerked open. Rui released the handle and jumped back into the hall. A shadow barreled out of the darkness, knocking him to the floor. He rolled, barely avoiding the other man’s clawed fingers.

  Something else Tyrus had neglected to tell him. Silver apparently had the fae Gift of wayfaring, which included the ability to move lightning-fast. At least Rui knew how he’d gotten the girl in without him knowing.

  Silently consigning Tyrus to whatever hell would take a night fae, Rui rolled again and with an agile twist was back on his feet, bobbing and weaving as he tried to get a fix on the half-blood.

  But the other man was impossibly swift, shifting first to one side, then to the other.

  The hairs on Rui’s nape stood straight up. He spun around to find the half-blood behind him.

  The two of them settled into a deadly dance, searching for a weakness. The half-blood’s speed made him damn near invisible as he moved from place to place. A human assassin would’ve been dead by now, but as a fada, Rui had a touch of fae blood as well, so could track the other man’s movements—barely—now that he knew what to expect.

  He slashed out with the knife, slicing Silver’s arm to the bone. The other man inhaled sharply and hugged the arm to his stomach. Blood dripped to the floor. Rui scented a hint of decay beneath the iron-silver. So Silver had some night fae in him.

  The other man fought on for another silent, desperate minute but his breath was rasping in and out of his chest, his movements much slower, his injured arm pressed uselessly to his abdomen.

  Now, whispered Rui’s animal. He feinted left, and when the half-blood shifted to avoid him, plunged the blade beneath his breastbone and up into his heart.

  Silver fell to his knees. His good hand latched onto Rui’s wrist. “Please.” He dragged in a breath. “Not. Mary.” His gaze flicked in the direction of the sleeping girl.

  Rui hesitated, but there was no harm in telling the man the truth. “She’s safe. The contract didn’t include her.”

  Relief softened the half-blood’s sharp features. “Thank the gods.” His lips moved but nothing came out but a gurgle. He took a last, harsh breath, and then his chest heaved and he released Rui and crumpled the rest of the way to the floor.

  Rui stared down at the dead man, wondering why he didn’t feel more: remorse at h
aving killed a man, satisfaction at a job well done, guilt about the girl sleeping in the bedroom. But he felt—nothing, as if his heart were encased in chill gray ice.

  He retrieved his knife, rinsed it off in the bathroom and returned it to his pocket. He should get the hell out of there—but instead he hesitated, listening to the girl’s soft, light breaths.

  Drawn by something beyond his control, he stepped into the room and stared down at her.

  She was younger than he’d expected—maybe five turns of the sun. She was sprawled on her back in the boneless sleep of a child, a nightgown twisted around her legs, her hair braided into five stubby pigtails that stuck out at angles around her head like an off-kilter crown. Like her father, her face hinted at fae blood—sharp chin, pointed ears and wide, tip-tilted eyes—although her skin was golden-brown where the half-blood was pale.

  But like him, she was thin. Too thin.

  As he gazed down at that small, skinny body, something in Rui clenched. If a child of his were that underfed, he’d do anything to get her food—lie, cheat, steal, even murder.

  Which was apparently what the half-blood had done.

  Delicate eyelids fluttered. “Daddy?”

  Hell. He couldn’t leave her here to find her father dead in the hall.

  “Shh,” he murmured, “it’s all right.” He lifted her from the bed. She weighed next to nothing, her arms and legs knobby brown sticks.

  Her eyes popped open and rounded in terror. Her lips peeled back in a feral hiss. Light shimmered over her skin and suddenly he was juggling an angry, spitting jaguar cub. She hissed again and struck out with her claws. He cursed and tried to hold onto her, but she twisted out of his arms to the floor where she shook off the nightgown and dashed into the hall. She crouched next to her father and raised her upper lip in warning.

  He ruefully rubbed his wrist. The little devil had drawn blood. Not that those tiny claws had done much damage, but still…

  He followed her into the hall and crouched down on his haunches. “Easy, little one. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Her ears flattened and her mouth opened to bare small canines. She growled, a high, baby growl that would have been cute if it weren’t aimed at him.