by Lola Gabriel
“If she wants the commission on the sale, Cybil, she’ll accommodate me,” Wilder retorted. The feelings of a real estate agent on the Sunside were the last thing on his mind. They were a dime a dozen, after all. “I’ve still got this mess to contend with,” he continued, gesturing at the files on his desk. “The Authority.”
Cybil adjusted her glasses and stared at him blankly. “You know my opinion on that matter,” she told him.
“And you know my opinion on you wearing glasses you don’t need,” he shot back defensively. He was in no mood to hear his assistant’s take on how he should handle his family. It was no secret the sorceress thought he should have severed ties with the other princes ages ago. She had offered to help him singlehandedly annihilate his brothers on more than one occasion, a fact which Wilder had not shared with the others.
They might be consistently wrong and drive me crazy, but they are still my family… My growing family.
He thought about how much had changed in the past while, how the others had found their mates and moved onto paths Wilder himself knew he would never entertain. The echo of Lucia’s words all those thousands of years ago didn’t haunt him as it apparently did his brothers.
I have work. They have never taken their businesses seriously enough. If anything, they were looking for a way out of their mundane lives. I’ll never fall into that trap. I keep myself busy, my mind sharp.
He wondered if he wasn’t suffering from a mild case of sour grapes.
“Shouldn’t you be calling about that appointment?” he grumbled at Cybil, who kept eyeing him from her place across the desk.
“I’m just waiting to see if you come to your senses. It would be so easy to cast a spell upon them all at once—”
“Get out, Cybil.”
She shrugged her slender shoulders and turned away, but not without a usual parting comment. “Or I could cast one spell—”
“Out!” When Cybil was gone, Wilder ran a hand through his thick chestnut waves and tried to push his anxiety aside. The mess with the Authority was causing him more grief than he wanted to admit. Maybe if he asked Reef nicely…
He smirked at his own thought. The idea of him asking anyone nicely for anything was just as amusing as the notion that Reef might take over control of the Authority after all that had happened.
I’ll give him some time. Wilder wondered why he was lying to himself. No amount of time was going to bring his brothers back, not when they were consumed with the illusion of love.
He realized he was getting cabin fever. He wasn’t any closer to finding a solution to his problem than he had been three hours ago when he’d first landed in his office. All he’d done was replay the same six sentences in his mind over and over.
I need to clear my head. I’m stagnating.
Rising from the chair, Wilder eyed his cell, tempted to turn it off. It didn’t happen a lot, but every once in a while, he felt himself burning out as all life’s stresses caught up with him, and he feared it was happening again. Unplugging was one way to reset his charge, though in light of what was on his plate, he didn’t much feel like gathering his senses only to come back after some much-needed time off to lose it again.
“Where are you going?” Cybil demanded when he stepped out of the inner office. “I just got an earful from the agent. She is pissed.”
“If she’s being unreasonable about a reschedule, find another agent,” Wilder said coldly. “I don’t have time to hold her hand and wipe away her tears. It’s the nature of the business, and if she can’t handle it, that’s her issue, not mine.”
Cybil shrugged indifferently. “Almost what I said to her verbatim.”
Wilder grinned at her, displaying a shining array of white, even teeth.
“That’s why I keep you around,” he reminded her. “And pay you the big bucks.”
“I should tell you, Wilder, she’s not impressed.”
Wilder could not have cared less about some abrasive realtor in New Jersey. If she’s upset about missing an appointment, she’s in the wrong line of work. I’m doing her a favor by standing her up again.
“Send her a sympathy wreath,” he cracked, sauntering from the office. “I won’t be back today.”
He made his way into the palace, noting the bustle of the daily grind. Sometimes he wished he had not thought to turn the structure into a corporate hubbub. He missed the peace of having the incredible space to himself.
Well, it was never all really yours, he reminded himself, turning left toward the residential part of the palace, where he still maintained his quarters. Wilder hadn’t figured out what to do with his manmade free time yet, but he was beginning to think a drink and a soak in the hot tub were in order. It had been a while since he’d lounged around on a workday. Then why do I feel so guilty about it?
In his hand, his cell rang, and he sighed deeply.
“What?” he barked into his earpiece.
“Mr. Parker, this is Atom Weiler. We have an issue at headquarters.”
“Of course we do,” he grumbled sarcastically. “What the hell is it this time?”
“I think you should come down here and see it for yourself,” the new head of security told him, and Wilder felt himself bristle. Over the past weeks, there had been nothing but “issues” and “situations” at Authority Headquarters. It had given Wilder a newfound respect for what Reef did, but he also knew that ninety percent of the time, they were easily quashed problems which didn’t need his attention at all.
If Reef hadn’t been hand-holding so much, the current Authority wouldn’t feel the need to call me every two seconds with every stupid little problem that comes up. Always cleaning up someone else’s incompetence.
“Why don’t you just tell me what it is, Atom, and I’ll determine if it warrants my time in this instance? Because gods help me, if I come down there and you’re showing me footage of the adolescent Lycan gangs again…” He trailed off, hoping the implied threat was enough to keep Atom from bothering him any further. Of course, Wilder was never that lucky.
“It’s more serious than a couple of punk kids spraying the palace walls,” Atom insisted. “I can’t really explain it to you unless you come down here…”
Wilder grunted in frustration. “Fine,” he snapped. “I’ll be right down.” I need to find someone to take over this damned operation before I lose my shit completely.
Headquarters was located in the palace, like so much of the Hollows economy, and Wilder was at Atom’s side in fifteen minutes.
“What the hell is it?” he growled.
“Thank you for coming, Mr. Parker. Obviously, I wouldn’t have bothered you if—”
“Cut the brown nosing, Atom, and tell me what the problem is.”
Atom swallowed nervously nodded. “Look.”
He pointed at a screen, and Wilder didn’t immediately understand what he was supposed to be seeing. He had dabbled in security aspects, mostly to ensure all was running smoothly—even if it did annoy Reef when he was in charge—but his knowledge of technology was limited.
“What am I looking at?” Wilder wanted to know. It seemed like a legitimate question when he appeared to be staring into nothingness.
“Do you see the outer walls of the caverns?” Atom asked, and there was an unmistakable note of worry in his voice. “Right there, in the Trenches?”
Wilder peered closer at the screen, his brow knitted in confusion. “What about them?”
“They’re closer than they were last week.”
“I don’t even know what that means, Atom!” Wilder’s patience had completely expired. He wanted a scotch and a bath.
“I mean, the measurements of the outer walls of the Hollows are closer than they were a week ago.”
“I heard what you said. Now explain how this has a bearing on my life.”
“Mr. Parker, there is a shift occurring down here.” Wilder looked at the man, shaking his head in disbelief.
“First of all,” he snarled, “
you aren’t a geologist or an environmentalist, or whatever the hell it is that studies these changes. Last time I checked, you barely finished university in Criminal Science. Secondly, how the hell is that even possible?” Wilder wasn’t even sure he was using the right terminology, and he hated Atom more at that moment for making him feel stupid.
“Sir, I wouldn’t be bringing this to you unless I was sure about what I was seeing.”
“And what is it you think you’re seeing, Atom?” Wilder demanded, deciding to let the Lycan espouse his conspiracy theory. What else do I have going on today?
“Mr. Parker, I’ve been watching the patterns since I started, and I’ve always had a feeling that something like this could happen. I just didn’t think it would occur so soon…”
“Atom, I am about to put my fist through one of those very expensive screens—which is annoying, because I will have to foot the bill of replacing it. It might make me feel better if I take it out of your pay, however. Would you kindly cut the shit and tell me what you’re blathering on about?”
Atom turned to look up at him from where he sat in his chair, his amber eyes glowing with concern. “Sir, I’m saying that the walls are closing in along the Hollows.”
“And I’m saying that you’re insane,” Wilder concluded, spinning to leave. “If you ever call me about something so stupid again, I’ll have you banished to purgatory.” He didn’t wait for Atom’s response and strode from Headquarters without a backward glance, but in the back of his mind, the head of security’s words echoed through the chambers.
What if there is something to this? he mused, and just as quickly, he chided himself for entertaining such a ludicrous thought. In thousands of years, the tectonic plates had moved, creating shifts in the walls of the Hollows. Atom was probably just unaware of the natural occurrence. The walls are closing in on us, Wilder sniffed to himself, shaking his head in disgust. Shame on me for entertaining that for one second. I need a vacation.
He shoved the entire incident from his mind and made his way back up to his suite. He wasn’t going to let his day off be wasted by a Lycan’s paranoia.
2
Cassia St. John’s blood was boiling, or at least that was how it felt to her when she stormed into her office, slamming the door behind her. The pictures on her walls shook, but she was already in her chair, her phone pressed to her ear.
“Give me Evan Eckheart,” she hissed when she heard a voice on the other end. She felt as if she’d been waiting ten minutes when only a few had passed. As soon as she heard the man’s voice on the phone, she could still barely speak.
“Eckheart.”
“Tell me everything you know about Wilder Parker.”
There was a slight pause, and Evan inhaled. “Who the hell is this?”
“It’s Cassia, your ex.”
“Oh, hell, Cass, what do you want?” The misery in Evan’s voice was clear and filled Cassia with a bit of pride. She was glad that after all those years, he still cringed at the sound of her. On the other hand, it was a tad annoying that he didn’t immediately recognize her voice.
Or phone number. Yeah, he was full of it. He knew she was calling.
“I just told you what I wanted. I want every bit of dirt you can dig up on that son of a bitch, and I want it in my inbox by the end of the day.”
Evan grunted. “Cassia, you can’t call me every time a client pisses you off, looking for dirt on them—”
“Why the hell not? I pay you, don’t I?”
“It’s really not healthy. You need a hobby, like knitting, or maybe get a cat. Revenge is not a hobby.”
“Maybe not to you, choir boy. Just spill it, Evan. Don’t remind me how insufferably dull you are.” She could hear Evan bristle over the phone, but she was too incensed to care.
“What do you want to know? He’s powerful, untouchable. I won’t ask what he did to get on your bad side…” A rap at the door distracted Cassia from heeding much of what Evan said next as she yelled out for whoever dared bother her to enter. “Are you even listening to me?” Evan whined, and Cassia rolled her emerald eyes heavenward.
He’s still a brat. A boring-ass brat. “I can multitask. I need to know his weaknesses,” she told Evan. “I know who he is on paper.”
Her boss, Val, stood in the doorway, shaking her blonde head in what Cassia assumed was meant to be a reprimand.
“Just send me everything you know on him,” Cassia told Evan. “End of the day. No later.”
“Why?”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Evan, just do it! I thought you boasted to be the best PI in Newark.”
“I am!” Evan protested.
“Then do your damned job and email me!” She hung up the phone and turned to Val, flopping back in her chair.
“I heard you lost Parker today,” Val announced without preamble, and Cassia stifled a sigh.
Bad news does travel fast, she thought bitterly. She’d hoped for a little more prep time from termination to dealing with her boss.
“Good riddance,” Cassia replied flippantly, although the words stung the black-haired beauty to her core. For two months, she had waited to show Wilder Parker properties for his head offices in the Eastern US, but she had been blown off three times. Unfortunately, her temper had gotten the better of Cassia at the latest slight and apparently cost her the deal.
I loathe having my time wasted, but he’s not going to get away with this, she vowed silently. That bastard messed with the wrong real estate agent.
“Good riddance?” Val echoed, stalking closer to Cassia’s desk. “Do you know how much he’s worth? Do you have any idea how often the Parker brothers are in the market for real estate? If you alienate one, you can kiss the lot goodbye! I gave you a plum with this deal!”
“It doesn’t much matter if none of that money is coming our way, does it? He’s blown me off three times!”
“Then you let him blow you off!” Val yelled indignantly. “He’s good for it, Cassia! If you have to endure a hundred stand-ups, you do it, because in the end, the payout is well worth it! We can’t afford to lose clients like the Parkers!”
But Cassia also knew there were no clients “like the Parkers.” They were a landmark, an institution. Anyone who did business with the Parker brothers was certainly set for life if they stayed in good standing.
And none more so than Wilder Parker. He’s the richest one, I think? Cassia didn’t need to be told any of this, of course. She knew about the man, for she had done her research thoroughly, as she did with all her clients. Even the assholes who stand me up.
“What would you have me do, Val?” Cassia demanded, her face flushing with indignation. “Grovel for another chance to be stood up?”
“If that’s what it takes, Cassia, then yes! You get him back!” Val shook her head. “I thought you had thicker skin than that. If I had known you couldn’t handle being stood up by rich clients, I never would have hired you.”
The women stared at one another, a baleful clash of furious eyes, and Cassia could tell that Val was not backing down on this issue.
Cassia had been employed at Seaver and Sons Realty for the better part of seven years, and while her methods sometimes annoyed Val, she was one of the best closers in the company. It was why she was permitted to push the envelope with her sometimes abrasive ways and less than tactful approach with the clients. But if she started losing them, Val had no reason to put up with her. She would happily send her packing without as much as a recommendation.
“Are you done?” Cassia demanded, knowing she had lost that particular battle.
“I don’t know. Did I get my point across?”
“I love that you still use the old ‘if I’d know you couldn’t do blah, blah, blah, I never would have hired you’ argument. Your material is getting stale. Time for a new act.”
“And your attitude is getting stale, Cass. Clean it up and get my client back.” Cassia didn’t bother to reply, turning her energy toward the computer at her desk as
though something was genuinely there to capture her attention. Val grunted at the silent dismissal and turned to leave. “Cassia, you push your luck sometimes, yes, but if you don’t get Wilder Parker back—”
“I heard you!” Cassia snarled, leaving out the expletive she so desperately wanted to add. “Can you leave me to my work, please?”
Val sighed and retreated from the office, leaving Cassia to glower after her in a fury. Often after she and Val finished a fight, Cassia was left with a feeling that she’d just had it out with her mother. That relationship was very similar in a lot of ways, or it had been when Cassia was in her teens. Val acted like she was superior because she’d had a modicum more experience, when in fact, Cassia knew they had the same experience, just in different avenues.
I’m expected to swallow my pride and beg Parker’s damned receptionist for another chance after I told her to go to hell? The thought was galling, which was why Cassia didn’t do it. No, she thought firmly. I’ll wait and see what Evan comes up with. If he can find me some good dirt, I can blackmail that jackass into returning as a client.
Even then, Cassia didn’t see the flaw in taking on one of the most powerful businessmen in the United States. She was ruled by passion, after all—even if that passion was hatred.
The days of summer had faded away to darkness falling earlier, and although it was only late September, there was an unmistakable chill in the air when Cassia left her office. As always, she was the last to leave. She idly wondered if she waited for the office to clear out before making her escape, if only to avoid the platitudes and vapid pleasantries.
They say, “Have a good night!” and they mean, “I hope you drown in your bathtub,” she thought wryly, unlocking the waiting BMW with a key fob. The car’s alarm beeped twice, and Cassia slid her long legs into the leather interior, checking her makeup in the rear-view mirror before starting the vehicle.
She looked immaculate, just as she did every day, her blood-red lipstick accentuating her full mouth, mascara elongating the already full black lashes to make her vivid green eyes pop with a surreal glow. It was incredible to Cassia that she could look so put together on the outside when her insides were constantly flipping. Beneath that cool, poised exterior was a little, insecure girl who had no idea how to please her overbearing mother.