by Wren Weston
“I’ll wait in his suite.”
“Madam, the meeting is expected to run quite late. I’ve been instructed to tell you to come back tomorrow.”
“I want to see Chief Shaw.”
The man’s eyes widened. “Mr. Shaw?”
“Yes. He’s no longer your chief, but he’s not a prisoner. Surely he can accept a visitor.”
The man scratched at his beard. “Madam, Mr. Shaw is attending the same meeting. You’ll just have to come back tomorrow.” He turned away and returned to the gatehouse.
The gates did not open.
Lila turned away, her eyes straying toward the protest. She noticed a woman far removed from the crowd, sitting in a nondescript Cruz sedan, very similar to the one Lila owned.
But Lila’s car had not come with a telephoto lens.
The mole had followed her again.
Her frustration passed from the guard to the Cruz sedan and its driver.
Lila tapped Dixon on the leg and jutted her chin toward the car.
She slipped out of the truck and marched down Leclerc Street, walking away from the protestors, their signs chewed up, bent, and covered in footprints so late in the evening.
As expected, the woman in the car pulled out and followed after Lila.
Dixon parked his truck on the street and followed behind, keeping to the shadows while Lila stopped outside a law office. When she peered into the windows, the car stopped. A street lamp reflected off the lens of the woman’s camera.
Lila heard a puff of air nearby.
Someone whistled.
Lila turned around. Dixon had climbed into the passenger seat of the woman’s car, sliding it into park.
The engine died.
Lila slipped into the back, eyeing the well-placed tranq in the woman’s neck. The pair searched the car, digging through every bag and compartment they came to. “I don’t have my DNA wand. Do you see anything with a name?”
Lila withdrew the woman’s palm from her pocket.
Dixon craned his neck as Lila dug through the data. When she spied a familiar name, Lila dropped the palm onto the floorboards. “Damn it!”
Is it the mole?
Lila shook her head. “No, she’s just one of my mother’s spies.”
Chapter 20
Lila slipped on her hood as Dixon pulled into the shop, parking between a wall and another Cruz truck of the same make, model, and color. When they’d stopped in an alley so that Lila could check for bugs, Dixon had suggested that they return to the shop for the night, rather than go back to the oracle’s compound. It was already late, and they’d be up early tomorrow to seek entrance into Falcon Home. It wasn’t worth returning to the cabin, and she needed sleep.
He refused to take no for an answer.
Lila exited through the driver’s side, hitching her satchel higher. She strode through the shop, glad not to see Shirley or her assistants. Only Samantha had seen them enter. She’d slammed the dock door closed again after they pulled inside.
Dixon led her up the stairs and opened the apartment door. Katia and Tristan lay upon the couch watching a screen, bundled up under a blanket.
Tristan sat up, shirtless. “I didn’t know you’d be coming back.”
Lila averted her eyes. She used to trace his skin with her fingers, letting it dip and rise over the ridges in his chest and abdomen. That pastime now belonged to the woman on the couch. She’d probably been doing it all night.
Tristan dug into the couch, found his shirt, and pulled it over his head.
Lila left him and Dixon to their updates. She plopped down on the sofa chair in the center of the room, ignoring her name as Tristan whispered it, ignoring their stares.
She pulled out her palm and tapped a message. Father? Message me after your meeting!
“We were just about to get a late dinner,” Katia said, folding the blanket she and Tristan had been cuddling under. “Can we order something for you too?”
“Dixon and I already ate.” Lila called up Shiloh’s information on her palm, wondering if he might know anything.
But perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to worry the boy. She’d only spook him.
“Something’s happening to your father,” Katia said. “I might not be able to see your face, but I can tell from how you’re gripping that palm that you’re worried. I’ve held one like that too.”
Lila looked past her to the arguing brothers.
“I also might have heard Tristan whisper ‘father’ a few times and look at you. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”
“My father is going to be fine.” Lila scrolled through her contact list. She had many spies in Bullstow, but none would work without credits.
She’d never felt so helpless before.
Perhaps her mother and father had a point about money. Maybe it did offer security and power.
Was this how the workborn felt every day? The lowborn too?
“Of course. I’m sure your father will be okay.” Katia’s gaze flitted back to the brothers. “Have you noticed how much Tristan and Dixon have been arguing these days? I’ve never seen so much discord between them.”
Lila barely heard her words as she tapped out a message to Max. She then thrust her palm into her pocket. Max would find out what she couldn’t.
In the meantime, she’d work. Max would let her know if he found out anything new.
Lila booted up her laptop and opened the list of forty names. She filtered it, removing those who had arrived for the Squab’s Sojourn, even though it went against her instincts. The assumption felt sloppy, especially when it removed a certain name from the list. Nico seemed far too interested in her, and for very little reason. More to the point, he seemed to be everywhere. He’d investigated the intruders in her cabin. He’d lingered nearby when she visited the basement. He’d asked Camille and Connell all sorts of questions about her. Camille had claimed the latter was only to woo Lila, but also admitted that Nico wasn’t the type to do that.
It was too suspicious.
She added his name back to the list.
Katia finally moved away from her, grabbing her palm to order a late dinner for her and Tristan. She slid on her coat and gave Tristan an expectant look. “The food will be ready for pickup in thirty minutes, but it’s across town. We should leave now.”
Dixon whistled and stalked to the door, plucking his coat from the counter as he passed.
“You want to go with me?” Katia’s gaze shifted to her lover.
Tristan gave her a confused shrug.
“Okay. I guess Dixon and I will be back soon.”
The door closed with a hollow snick.
Lila whipped off her hood, glad for the temporary reprieve. Gods, how she’d begun to hate the damn thing!
“Do you want something to drink? Sangre?”
“Coffee if you have it,” Lila replied. “I’m waiting for a message.”
“He might be in that meeting for a long time.”
“Then I’ll wait for a long time.”
Tristan crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back into the kitchen counter. “I wish I had more news for you, but none of my people are inside.”
“I have a source who is.”
“Yes, Max Earlwell. Dixon said he met him. I wish I’d been there.”
“No, you don’t. Max would have eaten you alive.” Not only would Max have played chess to Tristan’s hopscotch, he would have seen right through the tension between them.
“I’m not some child who—”
“I don’t have the energy or the time to argue tonight.”
Tristan scratched at his collar. “You don’t have the energy because you’re not sleeping. You have to learn how to take better care of yourself when you’re on a case.”
“I don’t need your advice. I managed just f
ine on my own for nearly a decade before I met you.”
“Point taken.”
“Coffee?” she reminded him.
“Fine. I’ll put on a pot and let you drink yourself into insomnia.” Across the room, drawers opened and closed. Silverware clinked. “How many scoops do you—”
Lila set her laptop on her chair and headed into the kitchen. She brushed Tristan aside and tossed several scoops of coffee into the pot, making it so strong that it would salute. She closed the top on the coffee maker and punched the start button.
“We were friends once,” Tristan said. “We could be friends again.”
“We were never friends.”
“We could try something new, then.”
“Why? Ignoring one another is going so well.”
“No, it’s not. Maybe I could ignore you if you stopped coming over, but you keep popping into my life every damn day lately.”
“Dixon invited me over. He does live here too, you know. If you plan on dictating who he can and can’t have over, then you should probably have that conversation with him.”
“I’m not telling him who he can’t have over.”
“You’re telling me instead.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t come over.”
“You didn’t have to. You’ve made it clear that you don’t want me here.” She opened the refrigerator and snatched a bit of creamer, settling it near the coffee pot. “Do you have a mug?”
“Yes.” He did not move to find it. “Is Dixon ever planning on coming back?”
“That’s a conversation you should—”
“I’m asking you. He won’t tell me anything. I’m his damn brother, but you’re back in town for an hour, and he fucks off and spends the whole day with you.”
“He took me to my trial. We didn’t go shopping and have ice cream.”
“You could have taken your car. He’s declared himself your personal chauffeur.”
“He was being a friend.”
“What’s he being now, then? Your trial is over, and he’s practically moved into the oracle’s compound with you. He says he’s on vacation, whatever that means.”
“It means that he needs a break.”
“From me? With you?”
“Maybe it’s not about you. In case you haven’t noticed, I do have a lot going on in my life right now, things that have absolutely nothing to do with you.”
“So his vacation is about you?”
“Maybe Dixon’s vacation is about Dixon. Stop dragging me into it,” she grumbled, staring at the coffee pot. “Can I borrow that mug now?”
“It might be easier not to drag you into it if he’d stop messaging me from the oracle’s compound. He’s having so much fun. Did you know? He’d already started becoming unreliable before he wandered off with you, but now he—”
“Now he’s treating you as a brother instead of a boss? He’s treating the shop as a job he quit instead of a home? I remember him telling you once what he wanted, but you never had that conversation with him, did you? You never gave him what he wanted. Maybe this is the consequence of not having that talk.”
“I’m tired of trying to win over people who don’t want to be won.”
“Maybe he feels the same way. Maybe he’s tired of trying to please you. Maybe he’s stopped, too.”
“Is that what he said?”
Lila’s shoulder’s fell. “I refuse to have this conversation with you, Tristan. This is something you should talk about with him. I’ll not play mediator between you any longer. You and I are not friends. I’ll not be your sounding board or your counselor or your advisor. Your side of things is not my problem anymore.”
“So this is what you and Dixon have been doing? You’ve just been complaining about me and—”
“We have other things to talk about, you self-important little…” Lila gripped the counter. “Dixon hasn’t told me much of anything about what’s going on with you. I haven’t asked. I don’t care. All of this, you, your work, none of it is my business anymore.”
“So you haven’t convinced him to leave?”
“You said he was unreliable before I came back, so stop trying to blame me for his sudden vacation. There were warning signs. You ignored them. You’re both grown men. Stop acting like children and just talk with one another.”
“Yes, because talking always works so well.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I tried talking to him. He barely tells me anything. I tried talking with you before you ran off with La Roux, and—”
“I didn’t run off with La Roux. Go play the wounded victim with Katia. I don’t want to have this conversation again.”
“Running off, starting up a relationship… It’s all the same thing.”
“I didn’t start up a relationship with the senator.” She tapped the top of the coffee pot, frustrated that it hadn’t finished, giving her an excuse to leave the argument.
“What do you mean you didn’t—”
“Maybe I changed my mind. Too late, as it turned out.”
“What do you mean? You never had sex with him?”
When Lila didn’t reply, he grabbed her elbow and spun her around. “Lila, did you have sex with—”
She looked away from Tristan’s searching eyes. A million replies spun through her head.
She dodged them all.
“Yes, Tristan, I slept with him. Several times that night and twice the next morning. Happy now?” She snatched her arm away. “You know, I want to thank you for this whole week. It’s taught me a lot. Life lessons, as it were.”
“What life lessons?”
“That I should always trust my instincts. That I made the right choice in the end, even though I made it far too late. At least I made it, though. If I had just trusted myself the first time around, I could have saved myself a lot of grief. I’ll be sure to do that next time.”
“Is that what I was to you? Grief?”
“That amuses you, doesn’t it? I shouldn’t be surprised. I bet you’ve been amused this whole time.”
“Why do you think I’ve been amused?”
Lila clamped down on her tongue, biting back her first response. “The highborn have always been right about this.” She lifted her finger and circled it in the air. “I should have listened.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that seeing you and Katia together has been an education into the workborn mind.”
“Yeah, we don’t—”
“If you say ‘cheat,’ I swear to the gods, I will burn this fucking garage to the ground and dance upon the ashes.”
“Fine. Explain it to me, then. How are the workborn different, O Chosen One?”
Lila gave up on the coffee and turned back toward her laptop.
Tristan didn’t let her. He darted in front of her and blocked off her escape. “Oh, no. Don’t you run away like you always do. You brought this up. You finish it. I want to hear your amazing insights into the workborn mind. Go ahead. School me.”
“Why, so I can amuse you again?”
“Do I look like I’m laughing?”
“I don’t know. It appears you were full of shit the entire time we were together, so I find myself at a loss to guess. At least the highborn are honest. We don’t play pretend.”
“When did I lie?”
“Every time you opened your mouth to tell me about your supposed feelings.”
“I never lied.”
“Really? You honestly meant everything you said to me?”
“Yes!”
“You claimed you were in love, Tristan. Love!” She stared at his face, looking for some small sign of acknowledgement, but all she saw was confusion. “If what you felt for me was love, then you sure did get over it fast.”
“I guess you got better. A few days after declaring you so-called feelings for me, after begging me to leave my entire world for you, you hopped into bed with someone else. How’s that for love?”
“Katia and I have known one another for a very long time.”
“As I recall, we knew one another for a long time too. Do you tell her you love her? Do you have a script you read—”
“It’s not like that.”
The pot began to sputter behind her, the scent of coffee heavy in the air.
Lila ignored it. “What is it like, then? The thumping and groaning I hear every night begs to differ.”
“She’s not a replacement.”
“Oh, yes, I know. I was the replacement. You and Katia were together for years. You just took a quick detour with me.”
“You weren’t a detour. I was in love with—”
“Save it, Tristan. We were only together for a few weeks. How in love could you have been?”
“A great deal,” he snapped.
“Then I don’t think that word means what you think it means. I don’t know why I fell for it, honestly. I almost…”
“You almost what?”
“Had things turned out differently, had I not been forced to run, I would have come back here and said a lot of very stupid things, thinking you felt the same as I did. Thank the gods I had to leave New Bristol. Out of everything that’s happened in the last month, that has been the one silver lining.”
“That’s a good thing?”
“Yes, because when you said you loved me, it was just words. Words, words, words—”
Tristan grabbed her and shoved her against the counter, pressing his lips against hers, tugging, sucking, biting almost painfully. His arms slipped around her back, pulling her to his chest as the coffee pot bubbled on.
Lila melted into the familiar, kissing back out of habit or want or need. Her fingers traveled up his stomach, to his chest, and splayed around his jaw. The smell of his shampoo washed over her. His scent, so long absent from her life, reminded her of nights spent in his bed.