The hissing sound of the steam quieted a little.
“There. Much better. Thanks.”
Alfonso lifted his hand in a wordless reply. Maybe he’d get the hint that Alfonso wasn’t interested in idle chitchat. He kept his eyes closed and flexed his knee. The joint moved freely, easily, without the pain and creaking noises he’d become accustomed to. If he didn’t know better, it seemed almost as good as the other one already.
He had to admit, in addition to his surgery and treatment, Lily’s blood and energies were also helping.
He felt…great. Better, physically, than he had in a long time.
“So what are you in for? The knee? You a Guardian? You don’t look familiar.”
Alfonso tensed, his fingers automatically curling around nonexistent kunai. Like a security blanket, those little blades had come in handy more than once, but right now they were sitting inside his gym locker. Damn. The last time someone had recognized him it hadn’t been pretty.
But when he saw how the guy was lounging, he relaxed and somehow managed to suppress a chuckle. Unless the idiot was a magician, he was unarmed. Spread-eagled on the bench, he was buck naked, knees open, arms stretched out. With no place to stash a weapon, it was hardly what you’d call an offensive position.
He didn’t recall seeing a sign that said Clothing Optional.
“Yes, my knee,” Alfonso said, ignoring the other questions.
“Bummer. I’m just using the facilities while I’m up here. Gotta take advantage of the perks, you know?” He laughed and held out his hand. “Steven Hastings. And you are?”
Alfonso’s chest constricted. This immodest motherfucker was Lily’s ex-boyfriend? Zoe’s father? The man Lily had recently been living with? What the hell was he doing here? He thought the guy lived in California.
With slitted eyes, Alfonso scrutinized him. He had dark hair, but maybe just because it was wet and slicked back—mafioso-style—a square, too-angular jaw and a lithe runner’s body. His laugh was the kind you’d hear in a German pub during Oktoberfest, when tourists became bawdy and loud with too much beer, and you were totally and completely sober.
Yeah, Alfonso hated every single thing about him. He reluctantly shook the guy’s hand and introduced himself.
“Good to meet you, Alfonso.” Steven rested an ankle on his knee, giving Alfonso an even clearer view of what hung between his legs.
Oh, for the love of God, he did not need to see that.
So Lily hadn’t mentioned Alfonso to her ex. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved that she’d kept their relationship confidential or disappointed that she had. He turned his attention to his watch as the seconds ticked down until he was out of here.
“So, where you from? You live around here? I’m up visiting from San Francisco. Like to take advantage of the Region’s gym facilities. Makes the trip a little more bearable.”
Bearable? He knew Hastings was some sort of fund manager for the Council, which was evidently why he was allowed access to the facility. Was the guy here on Council business or was he here to see his daughter? Fuck, he’d probably be seeing Lily as well.
Alfonso told him the same half truths about himself that he’d been telling others for years. He had another minute or so of the prescribed steam therapy, then he was out of here. The last thing he wanted to do was get all chummy with this guy. In fact, Alfonso thought as he clutched the edge of the wooden bench, what he really wanted to do was beat the shit out of him. From what Lily’d told him, Hastings was an ass. Just looking at him, Alfonso had to agree.
“God, you’re lucky, you know that?”
“I am?” Oh, this was going to be good. Alfonso closed his eyes and wished the guy would just shut the hell up.
“You travel the world. Stay in an exciting city every week. No worries or responsibilities.”
Excuse me? Alfonso mopped his face with a towel and gave him a what-the-fuck look. “What I do is very stressful. I’ve got plenty of worries.”
“Yeah, but you’re living the life you want to live. No one to tie you down. God, what I wouldn’t give for that. To call all the shots. You can sleep with whoever you want to, wake up to a different face each evening, rather than the same one day after day. No one is nagging you to perform in a tough economy—as if I can pull a carrot out of my ass—to set a good example for so-and-so, to attend this or that social function, or reminding you that you have a kid to support and family obligations to meet.”
Alfonso ground his molars together to keep from saying something he’d regret later.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Hastings continued. “I love my daughter. But being a father wasn’t something I wanted at this point in my life. I wanted to see the world, lead an exciting life like yours, you know? But instead, I’m stuck in an office—granted, a nice one with mahogany furniture and a smoking-hot secretary—but every day those walls feel like they’re coming in a little bit closer, snuffing out my dreams. It’s stifling and I feel trapped sometimes. You know what I’m talking about?”
No, he honestly didn’t know. This fucker had everything Alfonso had ever wished for, yet he was pissing it all away. The guy thought he was trapped? Trapped was when you had no choices. “You think living out of a suitcase sounds glamorous? Not setting down roots, not having a place to call your own? Sleeping in a different location all the time? Having no one to care about but yourself? Sorry, it’s not.”
Hastings scratched his belly and laughed. “Need some toilet paper to go with your shit? Don’t give me that grass-is-always-greener speech. People who say that are always the ones living the life, trying to make those of us who are stuck feel better about ourselves.”
What the hell was he talking about? From what Alfonso understood, the guy had never let something as trivial as a relationship stand in the way of being a player and sleeping with anything that had a pulse. He’d had enough.
“You’re a moron, you know that? You had a beautiful woman to share your life with and you have an amazing daughter. I can’t think of a better way to go through life than with them.”
“What the hell are you talking about? How would you know? She left me.”
Yeah, Alfonso wondered why.
“Besides, I stay involved in my daughter’s life. I flew all the way up here for her dance recital.”
Alfonso stood and rewrapped the towel around his waist. “It’s a piano recital.” What a loser.
Something continued to bother him as he took a quick shower and dressed. Like a face he couldn’t recall or a word he couldn’t put his finger on, it was a thought just outside his consciousness. He barely remembered walking out of the locker room and had to go back for his gym bag. The conversation with Steven kept replaying in his head until he finally figured it out.
He wasn’t any different than Steven. An asshole was an asshole. Although Alfonso hadn’t cheated on her, he had left Lily, and he hadn’t fought for their future either.
As he passed the rec area, he heard the sound of a piano being plunked rather unsuccessfully. The same melody played over and over, with the same note missed each time. He could tell the player was getting frustrated, because the tempo got progressively faster and louder until what was probably a fist came crashing down on the keys, squelching the melody altogether.
He popped his head in the door and saw a young girl perched on the edge of a piano bench, her feet barely reaching the pedals. He was about to turn around and head back to his room when she pounded on the keys again.
Dropping his gym bag, he approached her. “You’re very close to getting it right. Need a little help?”
The girl looked over her shoulder at him with caramel-colored eyes that seemed a tad too large for her heart-shaped face. Alfonso’s heart skipped. Despite the fact that her braided hair was a mahogany-brown, she looked just like Lily.
Oh Lord. Zoe.
She was even more adorable in person than in the photos he’d seen. Lily’s mini-me. Was she here at the Region office waiting fo
r her mom or her grandmother?
She shrugged. “I don’t need help. I can do it myself.”
He hid a smile. Definitely Lily’s daughter. “It’s a tricky song to play, that’s for sure. I never was able to master it, myself.”
“You play the piano?”
“Not much anymore, but I used to.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I had to play that same song in a recital in front of many of my parents’ friends when I was about your age. You’re actually doing much better than I did. Don’t tell anyone, but I don’t care that it’s considered a classical piece of music. I’ve always hated it. I think it was that song that made me switch from the piano to the guitar.”
Her eyes went wide. “You know how to play the guitar too?”
“Yeah. I enjoy it much more than the piano. But don’t get me wrong, knowing how to play the piano does help you learn to play other instruments.”
“I hate the dumb songs they make you play. They’re boring and none of them have words. I have a recital and have to play this song in front of a bunch of people. It’s just so hard. No matter how much I practice, I can’t reach C-flat.” She stretched out her fingers. “They don’t go that wide.”
He tapped his injured leg. “Yeah, I know the feeling when something doesn’t work the way you want it. Mind if I try? Maybe I can help.”
She shrugged. “I guess so, but I’m the one who has to play it.”
He sat next to her on the bench, and for almost an hour, he watched her struggle with the melody and offered encouraging words and suggestions when he could.
“You play really well for an eight-year-old.”
“I’m not eight,” she said angrily. “I’m eight and a half.”
“Oh, sorry,” he said, trying not to laugh. “My mistake. You play really well for an eight-and-a-half-year-old.”
Heavy footsteps sounded at the door. “Alfonso, when the fuck are you—”
Alfonso clamped his hands over Zoe’s ears and glared behind him toward the doorway. Santiago. “Can’t you say anything without cussing?”
Santiago looked a little sheepish when he saw Zoe. “We need to talk.”
“I’ll be with you in a minute.”
He waited for the guy to leave before he turned back to Zoe and nudged her with his elbow. “Nice job. You nailed that tricky part. I think you’re going to be ready for the recital.”
Looking dejected, she twisted her hands in her lap, not buying his encouragement. “I don’t know. I’ll probably get up there and forget everything.”
“Try to remember that many of the people listening to you don’t even play the piano. They’ll see what you can do and be amazed, whether or not you make a few mistakes. And if you do mess up, then you muscle through it anyway. That’s what all performing artists do. No one’s perfect. The only difference is they sell it with their confidence. Tell you what.” He reached into his shirt and pulled the cord from around his neck. “Want to wear this?”
Zoe examined the intertwined gold pendant that had neither a beginning nor an end. “What is it?”
“A Gordian knot. Your mom gave it to me a long time ago, and it’s always given me good luck.”
“You mean it’s a lucky charm?”
“Yeah, I guess you could say that. It signifies how even the trickiest of problems or situations can be overcome if you’re bold in your efforts and confident in your abilities. Sometimes the biggest obstacles we face are the ones within ourselves.”
She looked at him with glazed-over eyes as if she didn’t know what the heck he’d just said, but he slipped the thin leather cord around her neck anyway. Many times he’d felt the presence of the pendant, its warmth against his chest and how it had given him that little extra something to keep going, whether he had faith in himself or not. Lily had given it to him before he’d left for Europe, when he didn’t know if he’d ever return, and she’d told him not to forget her.
“My mom gave this to you?” Zoe turned the pendant over in her hand and traced the unbroken line with her thumb.
“Yes, she’s…very special to me.” He didn’t know what Lily had told her about him or what the protocol was with children and ex-lovers. Feeling a little awkward, he cleared his throat. “If you want, you can tuck it inside your clothes, so you don’t have to wear it on the outside.”
The piano bench shook as she swung her legs. She’d forgotten about the necklace already. “You’re coming, aren’t you? To my recital?” When she looked up at him with her big doe-eyes, so similar to Lily’s, his heart nearly flipped over in his chest.
How could he say no to that? But he had to. He couldn’t get involved in Zoe’s life, no matter how much he wanted to. He’d be leaving soon and it wouldn’t be fair to her. “I don’t think so, honey. Your grandmother is discharging me from the hospital soon, so I’ll be heading back to my home. You’re playing at the Longest Night celebration, right?”
With a pouty expression she probably used a lot, she stilled her legs and dropped her hands to her lap. “But I want you to come. I won’t be able to play it without you there.”
“Sure you can. Just remember what we practiced and you’ll be fine. And don’t forget about your lucky charm. If you believe in yourself, you’ll do great. I promise.” He kissed her on the top of her head. “Hey, I think I heard Jackson saying something about brownies in the Region’s kitchen.”
Alarm flashed in her eyes. She shot from the bench and ran toward the door.
“He better not eat all of ’em.”
Alfonso laughed as she darted from the room without a backward glance, her problems at the piano now forgotten in favor of focusing on more important things. He could still hear the sound of her footsteps when Santiago entered the room again.
The Region Commander strode in wearing a pair of black dress slacks with a crisply ironed crease, a pinstripe shirt—no tie, and a sport coat with the sleeves shoved up to his elbows. Meeting attire, and given that perpetual scowl on his face, Alfonso figured it was his bullshit attire too.
“Listen,” Santiago said. “Cordell’s taking a leave of absence right before the Night of Wilding—his wife’s been sick and he’s worried about her—and we’re still no closer to finding out the location of that goddamn DB party.”
Oh God, not this again. “That’s a bloody shame. What does it have to do with me?” Although he really didn’t need to ask. He knew exactly what the guy wanted. A tiny part of him had to admit, it jacked his ego knowing Santiago wanted him on the team so badly.
“You’ve gotten further along in that video game than Cordell has been able to do. Yeah, don’t give me that look and act like you don’t give a fuck what goes on around here. I know you’ve been playing it and I know you care. You’ve gotta be on the verge of finding out the location.”
Alfonso shrugged. “That’s not really how it works. But if I do find out, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
Santiago leaned an elbow on the piano and crossed one leg over the other. “What’ll it take for you to come on board and help? Just till the party’s over. A fancy little sports car? I’ve seen you blowing your wad over Lily’s wheels. A signing bonus? A private office? Wait. I got it!” He clasped his hands together in an overdramatic show of excitement. “You want a blow job.”
“Oh good God.”
Santiago pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to keep from laughing, but it wasn’t any use. The guy was grinning from ear to ear at his own joke. “I’m not really into that, but, hey, I’m desperate and willing to do just about anything, if that’s what it takes for you to change your mind. You’ve been giving it to me up the ass for so long. How much worse could that be?”
“Stop.” Alfonso laughed. “You’d do that for me, really? Honestly, Santiago, I’m touched.”
“Like I said, I’m desperate.” Santiago rubbed a hand over his closely cropped hair and got all serious again. “Listen, Alfonso. We could really use you.”
“I’d lik
e to help you out but…” The laughter died in his throat. Once Santiago learned he’d taken the Blood Oath, Alfonso was sure he’d change his mind about wanting to bring him on board anyway.
“But what?”
“You wouldn’t want me if you knew the truth about me.”
“I know quite a lot about you, in case you’re wondering.”
“Yeah? You think?”
Why was it so much easier lying to people when you weren’t face-to-face? He scrutinized the guy. Sure, Santiago was a ballbuster, but the guy didn’t always play by the rules either. You didn’t get to the position he was in by coloring inside the lines. Maybe Santiago wouldn’t run to the Council when he learned the truth. And if he did, most likely it wouldn’t matter when this whole thing was over anyway. Who cared about a Council pardon if you were dead?
He was tired of this facade. Tired of pretending to be someone he wasn’t. Could he trust Santiago not to say anything?
“Did you know that I took an actual Blood Oath of Allegiance to the Alliance and the Overlord?” His whole body stiffened as he continued, expecting Santiago to interrupt him at any moment with a tirade. “You can’t tell me the Council would want someone in their ranks who had ever done something like that.”
Santiago didn’t appear surprised or even disgusted. “Like I said, I know a lot about you.”
Incredulous, Alfonso stared at him. “You mean you knew that I’d taken the Blood Oath? That I swore my allegiance to them?” How was it possible that Santiago wasn’t freaking out right now? The guy wasn’t exactly the calm sort.
“You think we’re stupid enough that we wouldn’t fully vet out your background beforehand? Yes, of course we knew.” He’d said we. The Council? They knew, too? Alfonso could hardly get his mind around that.
Santiago continued. “Why do you think we made you the offer to work for us in the first place? We knew that since you took the Oath, you’d be above reproach within the Alliance and privy to all sorts of intel we’d been unable to attain otherwise.”
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