by Lola Gabriel
“Damon, Damon, shh,” Bryn hushed him. “Take a deep breath. I’m coming over. Just relax. I’ll stop for pizza, okay?” There was a slight pause, and Bryn knew she had said the magic words.
“Okay.” Damon’s voice had taken the pitch of a small child.
“I’ll be there soon. You hang tight and don’t worry about anything, you hear me?”
“Okay, Bryn,” he mumbled. “Sorry…”
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” she told him firmly. “I’m concerned, too, but I told you I’d never let anything happen to you, right? You trust me, don’t you?”
“Of course I trust you.”
“Good. I’ll see you soon.” Bryn disconnected the call before Damon could launch into a diatribe she’d never get out of. Apologetically, she turned to Keppler, who was watching the news intently, a wry smile on his face.
“Well, I guess that’s one problem solved,” he commented, gesturing at the screen. Chester and Alma were being led away in handcuffs, their jackets covering their faces as an announcer explained the details of the shocking confession by the “Bonnie and Clyde” duo.
“And with one solved problem comes another unsolved one,” Bryn sighed. “I have to go.”
“I heard. As it stands, I have work to do to before heading back into the Hollows. I can catch up with you tonight.” Bryn smiled shyly, heat tinging her cheeks.
“Maybe I can get your number,” she mumbled, feeling like an idiot for having to ask. Keppler cackled.
“I guess that would be something we could do, exchange numbers,” he replied teasingly, reaching for her cell. “I’m not sure what time I’ll be done with my brothers, though, so it might be late.”
Bryn tensed at the realization that he was meeting her enemies that night, another wave of confusion washing over her. What am I doing? she asked herself again. Nothing good can come of pursuing this. One of us is going to end up hurt, and I don’t know which would be worse. Him or me?
But she swallowed all her reservations and accepted her phone back, immediately sending him a text so Keppler would have her number, too.
“Hey,” Keppler said as Bryn turned to grab her purse and keys off the coffee table.
“Hmm?”
“Everything is going to work out okay,” he promised.
“I hope so.” She didn’t say what she was really thinking, though: that there was no way this could have a positive outcome. One of his brothers was going to have to pay, and Keppler was going to be the one to sell him out. There would be no coming back from that—for either one of them.
12
It took Keppler longer than usual to return to the Hollows that evening. A group of teenagers had set up camp near the access, and Keppler found himself hanging out with a pixie named Gracie and a Lycan named Pear while they waited for the coast to be clear enough to pass through.
“Seriously? How long are those kids going to be here?” Gracie groaned. “Pear, go bark at them or something.”
Pear snickered and cast Keppler a look. “In front of the prince? I don’t want my Hollows rights revoked.”
“In this case, I’d make an exception,” Keppler grunted, glancing at his watch again. Gracie produced a flask from the folds of her peasant skirt and offered her companions a swig. Pear refused, but Keppler knew he would need all the courage he could muster.
“Thanks,” he sighed. “We could have made it to another access by now.”
“Well, we’ve been here this long,” Pear replied, flopping back onto the grass, her dark hair falling over her shoulders. “May as well stay put.”
Even though the closest portal was three hours away by car, Keppler was beginning to wonder if this was not a sign that he was entering dangerous territory.
I had no right to promise to help Bryn, his regimented, moral sense told him. You cannot betray your brothers in such a way. Moreover, you have no idea what Bryn is planning to do. She has eons of venom and an entire family to avenge. You don’t know the first thing about her. She could be playing you.
No amount of logical thinking could override what his well-honed sixth sense told him, even from before he’d learned the truth about her: Bryn Castillo was his mate. He had found her, and he was sworn to protect her. Besides, he had never known anyone who needed protection more than Bryn. He thought about how deeply caring she was beneath that icy exterior, the words she had spoken to Damon echoing in his head.
Her heart has been badly damaged over time, he thought, and yet she continues to care for others, even to her own detriment. She is an inspiration, not a cold-hearted killer. Her sense of duty conflicts with her innermost desires.
“Your Highness?” There was a mocking tone to Gracie’s voice as she thrust the flask toward him again. Keppler accepted it, his eyes darting toward the bush party, which had drifted slightly further away. Soon, it would be time to chance an entry to the Hollows.
Taking a swig, he turned his attention to his companions. “You know you can just call me Keppler, right?”
“Yep,” Pear chuckled. “You’re the only one who would waste his time with the lowly commoners like us.”
“That’s not true! And you’re not lowly commoners!” Keppler denied, feeling a flush of shame that his brothers had gleaned such a reputation.
“You’re not like them,” Gracie insisted. “You talk to everyone, and even though you could afford it, you don’t walk around wearing ten thousand-dollar suits in the ghettos like—”
“Watch your tongue,” Pear interrupted, hastily shooting Keppler a worried smile.
“I’m not going to have you put to death,” he promised, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “Anyway, no matter how expensive their clothes are, my brothers aren’t that bad. They care about you guys, too.”
Gracie snorted and reached for the flask, pressing it to her thin lips. “Whatever you say, Your Highness.”
“Stop it!” Keppler growled. “Please, just call me Keppler.”
The girls chuckled again, and Keppler found himself growing annoyed with their silliness. Bryn wasn’t like this.
“Have we upset you, Your—Keppler?” Pear asked quickly, as if sensing his mood shift. Keppler shoved aside his misgivings, again glancing at his cell. He was partially checking the time, partially waiting for a text from Bryn. He didn’t want to receive the latter until after he had been to the palace.
“No,” Keppler replied. “I’m not upset. Just waiting for a text from my girlfriend.” I’m calling her my girlfriend, he chided himself. We’ve been together a day.
“Aww,” Gracie cooed. “That’s so sweet. Is she your mate?”
“She is,” Keppler said.
“I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone.” There was a slight bitterness in Pear’s voice, and he peered at her, wondering if they had ever met before. She didn’t seem familiar.
“It’s a recent development,” he added, suddenly wishing he had not brought it up in front of strangers. What if it got back to his brothers?
Your feelings for this girl are already clouding your good judgment. Yet Keppler couldn’t feel bad about it. He wanted everyone to know about his mate, even if it was treacherous.
“You gonna marry her?” Gracie’s question sent a wave of heat to his face.
“It’s a recent development,” he repeated. “I haven’t thought past our next date yet.”
“Well,” Gracie said, “if you love her that much, what’s the harm in marrying her?” She was truly beginning to grind on his nerves.
“We should chance it,” Keppler said suddenly, rising from the grass and nodding toward the teenagers who had moved out of view.
“Finally!” Pear groaned, following his lead. “I can’t wait to have a shower and rid myself of this day.”
“Me neither,” Keppler agreed. But as they slipped through the portal, he knew that much more needed to happen before that occurred.
All four of his brothers were in the formal dining room when Keppler finally mad
e it to the palace, and he was met with an identical set of baleful eyes.
Reef snapped. “You’re forty-five minutes late!”
“There were kids at the access,” Keppler explained. “They wouldn’t leave.”
“Are you drunk?” Owen asked, leaning in as Keppler fell into a chair. He sniffed the air. “You were off drinking while we were waiting for you?”
“No, of course not!” Keppler snapped. “Can we just get down to business? I still need to get back to the Sunside tonight. This has been a day from hell.”
“Well, first things first,” Wilder announced, clapping his hands together. “They’ve arrested the hooligans responsible for those home invasions.”
“Well, that’s good news!” Lennox called, appearing relieved. “Was it Bryn Castillo?”
“Of course not!” Wilder replied, seemingly annoyed at the question. “And if it was, do you think the county jail would hold her? No, they don’t have the right people. I think Bryn is behind it still. The woman they arrested looks nothing like the sketch. She’s a blonde.”
“There’s this remarkable invention called hair dye,” Keppler offered dryly. “When criminals are in hiding, they use it to change their appearance.”
“I don’t need your sarcasm, Keppler. We have a real issue on our hands. Bryn Castillo is coming for us, mark my words.”
“When did you lift her exile?” Owen asked, and the question hung in the air like a dead weight as everyone in the room stared at Wilder. Wilder stared back, and there was a deep silence that lasted for over a minute. Keppler’s nerves felt as if they might snap.
“Well?” he demanded when he could no longer take the silence. “When?”
Wilder finally seemed to realize that everyone was waiting for him to answer, and he gaped at his brothers in disbelief. “You think I was the one who killed Raemyr and Magnolia?”
The silence was somehow longer this time. The other four men looked at one another, reading the expression of shock on their faces.
“You didn’t?” Keppler wasn’t even sure which brother asked, but it was the same question they were all thinking.
“Oh… You must be joking!” Wilder was genuinely offended, and he leaped to his feet, glaring at his brothers. “This entire time, you think I was the one who murdered them and exiled the kids? For five goddamned millennia? You—why didn’t you ask me?”
There was a low murmur of incoherent answers, but Keppler felt a peculiar feeling of concern growing in his gut.
“Then who did it?” he muttered. “One of you must have done it. Who else had anything to gain by it?” No one had an answer, although it was obvious that all their minds were turning at once.
Suddenly, they all looked at each other with a suspicion they hadn’t had before.
“We have no reason to lie about it,” Owen pointed out. “If you did it, no one cares. We all thought Wilder was responsible up until now, and we forgave him, right?”
Owen spoke the truth. There was no reason to hold back, no fear of reprisal or punishment. Whoever was to blame only needed to spit it out. And yet…
“This is unbelievable!” Reef roared, pounding his fists against the table. “If that girl came back seeking revenge, she’s going to take us all down. She and her brothers! We need to prepare for an attack!”
“Not if someone reasons with her,” Keppler heard himself say before he could stop himself. All eyes were on him again, and he wondered when he had lost control of his motor functions. He used to be better at keeping his mouth shut.
“Reason with her?” Wilder scoffed. “She tortured mortals who could not have possibly known anything!”
“She didn’t torture anyone!” Keppler cried, barely holding his hands back from covering his mouth. What the hell is wrong with me? Why can’t I stop? Why can’t I shut up?
“What?” Reef laughed. “How do you know?”
“I read the news,” Keppler said quickly. “Anyway, we have no indication that she’s here with her brothers. Someone should try to establish contact with her.”
“Are you volunteering?” Owen chuckled.
Keppler nodded his head. “Sure. I’m the most likable one out of all of you, anyway. Everyone says so.”
A pinched scowl crossed over everyone’s face.
“Everyone who?” the brothers chorused, but Keppler only laughed as he jumped to his feet.
So I have carte blanche to deal with Bryn, he thought. That will make for good cover if anyone sees us together. Now I have to convince her that none of us had anything to do with her parents’ demise.
Would she believe him? Or would she think he was siding with his brothers? Bryn’s ability to trust was fragile, and if she thought he was jerking her around, it would be difficult to reclaim her faith in him. Perhaps it was best not to tell her anything until Keppler had found out who had murdered her parents and why.
“Hello? Are you there?” Reef yelled. Keppler shook his head to himself, realizing he had spaced out.
“Yeah. What?”
“Make sure you meet her publicly and on the Sunside. Don’t get yourself ambushed in the Hollows. Four against one is not a fair fight,” his brother advised while the others nodded.
“Of course,” Keppler said. It had been a long time since he’d been to war, but Reef knew what he was talking about. He’d done a stint in every aspect of the military in virtually every country in every era—all so he could venture into the private sector and make a killing exploiting everyone’s weaknesses. While he knew war and strategy, Keppler knew Bryn.
She is not a battlefield that needs to be known, he told himself. She is bright and sensitive and needs to be told the truth.
Keppler hadn’t noticed that he had been following Reef into the palace, toward the north end where the shops were closing for the night.
“You seem tense. Do you think you can handle this?” Reef asked him, and Keppler forced a smile.
“Yeah, I’m good. I’m just trying to come up with my own strategy,” he answered. “I’m heading back to the Sunside tonight, and—”
“Hi, Keppler!”
He raised his head, his sentence cut short as Gracie bounced by with Pear.
“Good evening, ladies,” he grinned. “Heading home?”
“We are now,” Gracie purred, casting Reef a sidelong look. “Any chance your handsome brother is single, now that you’re taken?”
Keppler felt like someone had jammed a steel rod down his back, and he didn’t need to look to feel Reef staring at him curiously.
“As a matter of fact—” Reef started to say, but Keppler yanked him away before Gracie could say anything else. A few steps away, his brother turned to him. “You’re seeing someone?”
Keppler laughed nervously, hoping his face wasn’t crimson as he thought of a lie. “She was one of the broads waiting with me by the portal. She’s a little drunk and started hitting on me, so…”
“Ah, the imaginary girlfriend,” Reef finished. “Gotcha.”
“Say hi to your mate for me, Keppler!” Gracie howled, her child-like voice reverberating through the corridors. Keppler only laughed again, waving his hand.
“I’m heading out this way,” Reef said. “Let me know how it goes with the Castillo girl. If you have any problems…”
“I won’t,” Keppler assured him, clapping his brother on the back and watching him leave through one of the north doors before falling heavily against one of the columns towering throughout the atrium.
I make a terrible double agent, he realized. How am I going to get through this?
But with a growing dread, Keppler realized he was a triple agent. Now he was going to have to find the one responsible for the murder of Raemyr and Magnolia before telling either his brothers or Bryn the truth about what was going on.
13
It took Bryn longer than she would have liked to calm Damon down, but he was riled up, looking out the blinds of his living room as if he expected police cars to come screaming do
wn the driveway any second.
“What if they—?”
“Damon,” Bryn said, trying to keep her voice patient despite the fact that her patience was running exceedingly low. “You don’t need to worry about anything. If they had ratted us out, we would have heard about it by now. They are taking the blame alone for some reason.”
“Why?” Damon cried uncomprehendingly, and Bryn wished she’d planned on something better to tell him. With everything else happening, all she could do now was console him. Eventually, after hours of placation, Damon finally drifted off into a fitful sleep.
Bryn waited around to ensure he was out before gathering her things and heading back home, her mind less on Damon than on Keppler. She wondered how he was faring with his brothers, but she dared not text him.
He’ll let me know how things went when he’s done, she assured herself, though the nagging doubt in the back of her mind couldn’t help questioning just how willing he’d be to sell out his own flesh. Then there was the matter of what came next.
Before Keppler, there had been a gradual plan of infiltrating the palace. That was an impossibility now, given the eyes that were upon her.
I won’t be able to sneak back into the Hollows undetected, she thought mournfully. Forget about the palace. Wilder seems to be as paranoid as Damon, from what I know. If he already thinks he’s under attack…
There was nothing Bryn could do except go home and hash out another plan, one that would satisfy her brothers’ need for vengeance and her duty as the wronged daughter.
It was well after midnight when she saw headlights steer their way up the small driveway in front of her house, parking behind the Miata. Bryn knew instinctively it was Keppler, even though he hadn’t called or texted. She hurried to the front door to let him in, a smile on her face.
“Hey!” she called, inordinately happy to see him. As he neared, however, she could read the stress on his face. “What’s wrong?”