by Lola Gabriel
Now look at him, she told herself. He has his own house and friends. He’s well fed and on proper meds… when he takes them. I’m not all bad. I’m not…
“He’s not coming, is he?” Alma asked flatly.
“Doesn’t look like it, does it?” Bryn flashed her a brilliant smile before turning back to Damon. “Well, I guess this was a bust. I should call my guys and tell them to fall back.”
“You never told me the name of your guys,” Alma said slowly, rising from her spot by the computers. Bryn watched her approach through her peripheral vision.
“I don’t remember having to clear things with you,” she replied evenly. “And I think that’s the real issue, don’t you?” She whirled abruptly and stared pointedly at Alma. “Sometimes, I think you forget who’s in charge here. It happens when the leader of a group gives her underlings too much freedom. Unfortunately, I’ve learned that the hard way too many times. You show loyalty, and you get stabbed in the back.”
Alma’s face paled, and Damon continued to shove another piece of pizza in his mouth, seeming oblivious to the mounting tension between the women.
“What are you saying, Bryn?” Alma mumbled. “I—I would stab you in the back!”
Bryn opened her mouth to retort, but she instantly thought of Damon. She couldn’t do this in front of him. He would never recover.
“Why are you taking this so personally?” Bryn asked instead, smiling. “I’m just making conversation; one we can continue outside.”
Alma’s face registered terror for the first time since Bryn had known her, and she felt a smidgen of satisfaction.
Good, she thought. Be afraid. You’re going to rue the day you crossed me.
“Shall we?” Bryn asked, extending her arm toward the door. She looked back at Damon and smiled. “If Chester should happen by, just give us a call. I’ll contact my guys on the way home.”
Damon seemed uncertain, but Bryn nodded at him reassuringly.
“This heist is happening,” she promised. “Just not tonight.”
“Okay,” he relented, still not seeming convinced until Bryn hurried over to him and kissed his cheek gently.
“When have I ever lied to you, Damon?”
“Never!” he conceded.
“I’m not about to start now.”
This time, he seemed more confident in her words, and he grinned at her. “Okay, Bryn,” he agreed. “I trust you.”
“That makes one of us,” Bryn heard Alma mutter. She spun and glared at the blonde.
“Shall we?” They slipped outside and waited for the garage door to close in their wake before Bryn swirled to face Alma. “What were you hoping to accomplish by sending your greasy little boyfriend to talk to the cops? Were you hoping to get him arrested? Or are you dumber than I thought?”
Alma’s eyes widened, and she gaped at her. “I don’t know what you’re—”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Bryn snapped. “I know what you idiots did. I don’t feel like playing this denial game with you, too.”
There was a translucent quality to Alma’s already pale face, even under the moonless night.
“What have you done with him?” she gasped. “I swear to God, Bryn, if you hurt him—”
Then what? Bryn wanted to laugh. What are you going to do if I hurt your moron lover?
“He’s not hurt,” she answered, her tone almost kind. “But I did have a long chat with him as to why you would pull such a stunt when I’ve been so good to you. You know what he told me?”
“We’re in love, Bryn!” Alma exclaimed. “You can’t fault us for wanting out of this life!”
“You are in love,” Bryn corrected. “To him, you’re just a piece of ass. You want to know how I got him to come by today? He thought he was getting laid.”
Alma’s expression turned stony. “I know you’re pissed off, Bryn but this is low, even for you.”
Bryn was inexplicably angered by the statement.
“Even for me?” she repeated. “Do I take the low road often?” Alma snorted.
“You’re a thief, and a sadistic one at that! You spent hours torturing the owners of the house because you liked it, not because it was necessary!”
Bryn’s jaw locked, but she refused to show the other woman her fury.
“Have you ever left a job without getting every single thing of worth from that house?” she asked coldly. “That is the reason for my methods. And it’s hardly torture, no matter what the damned papers call it. I splash some cold water on their faces and make some threats to their goldfish. Big deal.”
“You threaten to skin their cats while they watch!” Alma replied.
“Have I ever harmed an animal? Have I ever harmed any of those people?” Bryn yelled, her resolve failing. “You have no problem when we’re doing it, but now you’ve got some mortality issue?”
“I’m just not as cruel as you, Bryn,” Alma said. “I think you get off on their terror.”
Bryn’s mouth twisted into a sneer, and she thought about the alternative. They are lucky to be alive after the way they betrayed my family. They conspired with the Parker princes to have my parents murdered and us exiled to the Sunside. They are as guilty as the princes themselves.
Well, they were the descendants of the mortal who had helped them, at least.
When Bryn had started her quest for vengeance, she had hoped that at least one of the mortal families who had conspired with the princes could give her the name of the one who was responsible for their deaths. But far too much time had passed, and the curse had only just worn away a decade earlier, allowing Bryn to wander the Sunside freely. She had been shocked to learn that she could still enter the Hollows through unauthorized portals, ones she had discovered as a princess in the Palace of Fire. She kept herself scarce, though, determined not to attract attention lest it lead to questions.
It had worked for a while, but her rare beauty and uncanny resemblance to a princess had kept her in the Sunside more than in the Hollows. That didn’t stop her from slowly attacking the prince’s businesses from inside also. It was a laborious process, one which required skill and patience, but Bryn knew it would all be worth it in the end.
And now Keppler Parker is going to ruin it all for me. She shoved the handsome ruler out of her mind and refocussed her attention on Alma’s bitter face.
“Cheer up, Alma,” she said sweetly. “You’re off the hook now. You and Chester both.” Alma stared at her, her wariness obvious.
“Where is he?” she questioned. “I want to see him.”
This time, Bryn’s smile was genuine. “As you wish. Let’s take my car.”
By the time they arrived at Bryn’s, she was having second thoughts. What if Keppler was still hanging around? She was going to have a hard time double-talking the dragon prince with two hostages on her hands. Moreover, she still hadn’t decided what to do with the backstabbing Bonnie and Clyde. All she knew was that they needed to be taught a lesson.
Bryn had always been a planner. Thousands of years in exile had taught her to be meticulous, and she didn’t handle surprises well. Learning about her team’s betrayal had been sudden, leaving her little time to figure out what to do. That, however, didn’t mean she wouldn’t work out a proper form of punishment for the two of them. It simply meant she needed a night or two to deal with it.
In the meantime, she thought, I’ve got to ensure that Keppler Parker keeps his distance.
When they pulled up into the driveway, Alma shot her a nervous look.
“Where are we?” she demanded. “Whose house is this?”
“Do you want to see Chester or not?” Bryn snapped. “Get out of the car.” She looked around the dark street, half-expecting the attractive shifter to be lurking in the shadows. She noted with relief that he was nowhere to be seen.
That doesn’t mean he’s not around, she reminded herself. He could be watching from anywhere right now.
She wondered how much Keppler really knew about her. Obviously
, he’d figured out that she was the one in the police circulars, but what would he care? It wasn’t like the princes were upstanding moral citizens. They were cutthroats and thieves, even worse than her. At least she had never murdered anyone.
Still, Bryn could not stop the shiver of desire that shot through her as she thought about the cobalt blue of Keppler’s eyes.
He could be the one responsible for murdering your parents! she chided herself. What the hell is wrong with you?
Yet she had a hard time believing that Keppler was the one who had done it. Her research had dictated that he was the furthest removed from all the dragons in the Hollows. He had gone out of his way to make a life for himself on the Sunside while his brothers seemed tied to the underworld. If Bryn were a betting woman, she would wager that Keppler had nothing to do with the bloodshed thousands of years earlier.
For the first time, Bryn wondered if she was nurturing a grudge that should have been forsaken.
So much has changed since then, she thought. Whoever was responsible surely regrets what he did—
“Bryn!”
She realized she had stopped moving, her eyes still trained on the street as if willing Keppler to materialize, despite her worry that he might.
“What?” she snapped back, glaring at Alma. “Chester’s not going anywhere.”
Another spark of fear flashed through Alma’s eyes, and for a second, Bryn thought she might flee. Before Alma could even think about it, Bryn produced the taser from her purse.
“Let’s go see your love,” she growled.
She hustled a clearly distraught Alma toward the front door, again glancing over her shoulder. She couldn’t explain it, but she could almost feel something else around her—a presence, almost. As Bryn unlocked the front door, she reasoned that Keppler wouldn’t care if she was holding two mortals in her basement, but he wouldn’t make her night go any smoother.
“Get inside.”
“Bryn, you can’t kidnap us!” Alma gasped. “People will be looking for me!”
“Like who?” Bryn scoffed cruelly. “Your lover is here, remember?”
They entered the front, and Bryn kicked the door shut behind her, the sound reverberating through the small house with ominous force.
“Bryn—” Alma started.
“Shh!” Bryn pressed her forefinger to her lips and gestured for Alma to keep walking toward the basement door. “Do you hear that?”
Alma’s blue eyes widened with terror. “No. What?”
Bryn grinned at her as she pulled open the basement door and gently shoved the hacker down the steps, snapping on the basement light.
“That’s the sound of resignation,” Bryn chuckled. As they made their way to the base of the steps, Alma let out a strangled gasp when she saw her boyfriend lying helplessly on his side.
“Alma!” Chester choked, his voice parched. “Alma, help me!”
“Not gonna happen,” Bryn said, nudging the blonde toward him. “Get on the floor with him.”
“Bryn, what are you going to do with us?” Alma cried, her eyes shocked and terrified. Bryn smiled frigidly and shrugged her shoulders.
“I guess that’s something you’re going to have to wait to see,” she purred, urging Alma toward Chester and reaching for the twine.
“You’re insane!” Chester growled. “You won’t get away with this!”
“You’d be amazed what I can get away with,” Bryn snickered. But as she set Chester upward and looped the twine around his legs to secure Alma, she was filled with a deep uncertainty.
Really, what am I going to do with them?
She had no idea.
8
“Where are you going?”
Wilder’s voice caused Keppler to tense, and he spun to look at his brother.
“I’m sorry, what?” he laughed. “What kind of question is that?”
“I need to talk to you!” Wilder growled, looking around the corridor of the palace nervously. They stood in the commercial area of the sprawling structure, the dayshifts filtering in to start the workday.
The palace was split into several sectors. One housed the princes, though most of them had homes throughout both the Hollows and the Sunside—except for Keppler, who only maintained Sunside properties. Even though he did spend nights in his chamber at Parker Palace when required, his ties to the Hollows were mostly on paper.
On the north side of the huge structure was a triple-story and vast commercial area, which was partially a mall and partially a slew of office spaces. There was everything from lawyer’s offices to travel agents. That part of the palace was an eclectic mash of shops and storefronts, employing a great deal of the western Hollows. In fact, if one didn’t have a job in the palace, it was safe to assume they lived below the Hollows’ poverty line. Across the Median Sea, things were handled differently, as the dragons did not keep a close eye on the immortals. On that side, they acted more like primitive beasts, trading and bartering instead of aspiring to have a life of luxury and financial security.
Of the two lifestyles, Keppler preferred the Eastern Hemisphere of the Hollows. If he had a choice, he would have set up his Hollows residence on that side, but he knew he would never hear the end of it from his brothers if he did.
And there’s really no escaping these guys, especially Wilder, Keppler thought with exasperation as he watched his brother. “What is it, Wilder? I have to get to the Sunside for a meeting with some of the suppliers.”
“They can wait,” Wilder said, grabbing Keppler’s arm, his eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he moved. Keppler had a feeling he already knew what was on his brother’s mind. “Have you seen that circular floating around San Francisco? The one showing the suspect from those home invasions?”
Keppler straightened his back. “Maybe,” he lied. “What about it?”
“Maybe?” Wilder snapped. “Either you have or you haven’t!”
“I don’t know, Wilder,” Keppler insisted with a shrug of his shoulders. “What about it?”
“The girl…”
“Spit it out, Wilder. I have places to be.”
“It’s Bryn Castillo,” Wilder went on. “I’m sure of it.”
Keppler barely managed to hold back a moan of frustration trying to escape his lips. If anyone would remember what the kids looked like, it had to be Wilder. He forgets nothing! This is going to get out of hand and fast.
“Who?” he asked, hoping to stall for time while his mind worked furiously. Wilder gave him a disgusted look.
“I know when you’re playing dumb, Keppler. I taught you how to do that. I was right! She’s back and out to get us!”
“Maybe it’s someone who looks like her,” Keppler suggested lamely, the words hollow even as they left his lips. He looked around helplessly, seeking an out, but there was nowhere to go. Why was he even trying to escape this situation? He had no reason to protect Bryn Castillo! She wanted him and his brothers dead. He had to tell Wilder of his suspicions and let his brother figure out the rest. He was the one responsible for this. Wasn’t he?
Even if he wasn’t—which Keppler found difficult to believe—Wilder was still much more schooled in the art of war than any of them. Maybe it was time to have the talk they had avoided for five millennia about what had happened to Raemyr and Magnolia.
But he couldn’t bring himself to tell Wilder what he knew: that it was Bryn Castillo, and that she was more than likely targeting all those who’d had any hand in what had happened thousands of years before.
She deserves a chance to be heard, Keppler reasoned. Moreover, he couldn’t shake the feeling that destiny had intervened, putting her quite literally in his path, as if the gods had expected him to do something. But what?
He sighed deeply and studied Wilder’s face, wondering how he’d found himself in this conundrum and why he continued to entertain it.
“That’s a damned uncanny resemblance!” Wilder growled. “I need to find her before the cops do. I want her brought here and ch
ained in the dungeon for questioning!” Keppler tried not to laugh aloud.
“Wilder, we made the dungeon into a fitness room and massage center about thirty years ago,” he reminded him. “We have prisons now, remember?”
“No!” Wilder snarled. “A prison won’t hold her if she’s a dragon! Why do I have to tell you this? Think, Keppler, think!”
Keppler sighed loudly, not bothering to hide his exasperation. “I really have to go,” he told his brother. “Maybe we should have another meeting tonight and talk about what happened to Raemyr and his wife.”
Wilder’s jaw slacked slightly, his eyes narrowing.
“What is that supposed to mean?” he hissed. “We know what happened.”
“Yes,” Keppler agreed. “But we never really talked about who did it.”
Wilder’s eyes widened, and he inadvertently stepped back, eyeing Keppler with a peculiar expression he couldn’t read.
“No… we haven’t, have we,” he murmured, the words seeming to stick to the roof of his mouth as he said them. “Maybe we should…”
“Set it up, Wild,” Keppler said. “I have to go. Seriously. Just take it easy, okay? I’ll come back here tonight, and we’ll sort out what needs to be done, if anything, with Bryn Castillo.”
Wilder’s eyes bugged slightly, and he reached out to grab Keppler’s arm. “So you agree?” he gasped. “You think it’s her!”
Keppler immediately realized his mistake.
“I don’t remember what the kids looked like,” he replied, answering with honesty for the first time since starting this conversation with his brother. “I have no idea if it’s her or not.”
“I will never forget what they looked like,” Wilder mumbled, and the words sent a chill of apprehension through Keppler.
It was him, he thought. He did kill Raemyr and Magnolia. We were such animals back then. Was there nothing we wouldn’t do?
Keppler forced himself to concentrate on the present, offering his brother a quick, nervous smile.
“No matter what,” he told Wilder, “there is only one of her and five of us. There has not been a breath of dragons on the Sunside in centuries. Even if it is her, she may have forgotten how to use her shifting abilities.” He didn’t believe his own words, of course, but he desperately wanted to wipe the stricken look from Wilder’s face.