“Mm, I get to meet Bri Hammond’s parents?” Diego gave me a half-smile.
I rolled my eyes, already regretting my promise to Kaira that I would keep tabs on him. Diego stuck a piece of cinnamon gum in his mouth and sighed in contentment, clearly enjoying my discomfort.
Michael commandeered the first car we came across as we followed the access road from MagLab back into civilization. The driver was so eager to impress Michael, he offered to go home and get his wife’s car for us, too. He seemed disappointed when Michael declined.
It took another five minutes to convince A.J. to ride in a car with leather seats.
“Must be nice to be adored by everyone you meet,” Diego commented as we belted ourselves in.
“It can be,” Michael replied vaguely.
He wasn’t chatty on a good day, and we were all a little on edge with Diego.
If Diego noticed our discomfort, he wasn’t bothered by it. He sprawled out across the backseat, throwing his arm over the back of my headrest and manspreading until his knee brushed mine. I glared at him and shifted farther onto my side.
The clock on the dash said it was 8:00. If the sky hadn’t been dark, I wouldn’t have known whether it was day or night. Our time in the mine was all jumbled together, and I had no idea whether I was coming or going. For all I knew, we’d spent days underground.
No one spoke except for when I was giving Michael directions to my house. I thought about asking Michael to babysit Diego in the car so I didn’t need to invite him inside. If that wouldn’t have made Diego even more curious about my personal life, I would have.
I hadn’t brought anyone home to my parents’ house since Lilly’s death. My family had never met any of the Seven in person. The funeral parlor-vibe in my house wasn’t really conducive to guests.
As I had the last time, I rang the doorbell, fidgeting from foot to foot as we waited. The door swung open to reveal my dad.
“Twice in one week, pumpkin head?” My dad stepped out to hug me. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said, speaking into the front of my dad’s UConn Mags sweatshirt. “But I need to talk to all of you.”
“Brent and Sarah are watching a movie upstairs. Your mom and I just finished dinner. You hungry?”
“We already ate,” I lied. “Thanks, though.”
My dad did a double-take when he caught sight of the three guys standing behind me.
“Golly,” my dad said. “Who are you fellas?”
Sometimes, my dad was such a dad.
“A.J., Michael, and Diego,” I said, pointing to each one.
“Mr. Hammond,” A.J. gushed. “Such a pleasure. I’m your daughter’s bestie, and may I just say, she is a treasure.”
“Why, yes she is,” my dad replied. He was trying a little too hard not to stare at A.J.’s electric blue nail polish…which he’d “borrowed” from me and refused to return. The butt.
“Sweetie,” my dad called to my mom in the falsely cheery voice he’d adopted since his real cheery voice disappeared. “Look what the cat dragged in.” He gave me an exaggerated wink and thumbs-up before retreating into the house.
Michael and A.J. followed. Diego stood in the foyer, examining my mom’s paintings.
“She’s an Artist,” I said, wondering why I felt the need to explain anything to him.
Diego’s expression was inscrutable as his gaze lingered on the pictures of me and Brent as children. I wondered what he was thinking.
“Bri!” My mom hurried over to hug me. “Oh.” She let go of me and stared at the three guys lingering in the hallway.
I went through the introductions again, and again, A.J. sang my praises while the other two stayed silent.
“Now, I remember,” my dad said, scratching his chin. “I’ve seen the two of you on television with the new Directors.” He pointed from Michael to A.J.
“Famous by association,” A.J. chuckled. “I’ll take it.”
My mom was looking from Diego’s earring to his tattoos with barely-concealed horror. My dad had gone from not-staring at A.J.’s nail polish to his violet shirt, which I’d bought for him on his last birthday. It had a picture of a cheekily-grinning sweet potato with a top hat and the words I yam what I yam. Both of my parents shrank away from Michael’s towering height and unkempt beard.
My parents were good people, but they leaned toward the conservative and old-fashioned end of the spectrum. I had never asked their opinion on my friends, but I had to bite my tongue to keep from commenting on their judgmental expressions. I wasn’t surprised about my protectiveness over A.J. and Michael, but I wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that I was similarly bristling over the way my mom was assessing Diego.
Diego wasn’t making things any easier. He was standing a little too close to me, which hadn’t escaped my mom’s notice.
“I need to talk to Brent and Sarah,” I said, trying to cut through the obvious tension.
“I’ll, uh, go get them,” my dad said, giving the guys another once-over before heading for the stairs.
“We’re Bri’s friends,” Michael told my mom in the soothing voice he used when he was talking to someone hysterical. “You don’t need to worry.”
“Oh, thank God.” My mom pressed her hand to her heart and let out a short laugh. Her gaze slid to Diego when she said, “I was afraid my daughter had a boyfriend she’d neglected to mention.”
I waited for Diego to make some obnoxious or inappropriate comment, but he didn’t. He still had that strange expression on his face that made me think his mind was far away. His gaze was fixed on a painting of my brother and I when we were younger. Brent had me in a headlock, and we were both laughing so hard we could barely stand.
I wondered whether Diego had any siblings, and then wondered why I cared.
Thankfully, the clomp of feet on the stairs saved me from any more conversation or stray thoughts.
There was another round of hugs and introductions once Brent and Sarah arrived. We all sat down at the large dining room table that we didn’t use anymore, since my parents had stopped entertaining.
I let out a breath as I met my family’s expectant gazes.
A.J. found my hand under the table and gave it a squeeze. “You’ve got this, honey pie,” he whispered.
Diego rested his arm on the back of my chair. I wasn’t sure if it was out of solidarity, to show off his tattoos to annoy my mom, or if he just liked invading my personal space.
“I have to talk to you all about Lilly.”
Sarah made a small sound and pressed her hand to her mouth. Brent started rubbing circles on her back. My parents’ expressions darkened.
“What is it, Bri?” my brother asked, splitting his attention between me and his wife.
In fits and starts, I told my family about the slave mine. I told them about the list of children and the number that matched Lilly’s birth date.
I didn’t tell them about the tomb we’d stumbled on with all those child-sized coffins.
“I thought you’d all want to know,” I finished lamely, loosening my grip on A.J. when I realized I had his hand in a stranglehold.
Sarah’s whole body shook as she buried her face against Brent’s shoulder. My parents were both wiping away silent tears. I felt like a monster for being the bearer of this news.
“I can’t,” Sarah was saying into Brent’s shirt. “I can’t survive—”
I couldn’t hear what Brent said back, but the helpless look on his face shattered my heart.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
I’d thought it would be kinder to tell them what I’d discovered. Seeing their faces now, I realized I had just torn open old wounds.
Michael leaned over A.J. to tell me in a low voice, “I can help her—your sister-in-law. If you want.”
I looked at Sarah, whose slender shoulders were shaking from the force of her quiet sobs. I had seen what happened to people after Michael Whispered to them. They became enamored with him.
That wo
uld kill Brent, who was as obsessed with Sarah now as he’d been when they first started dating.
“Not Whispering, exactly,” Michael said, like he could read my mind. “But I can give her some comfort.”
I blinked back my own tears at the thought of Sarah and Brent getting a little peace. I gave him a grateful nod.
Michael got up from his chair and walked over to Sarah’s side of the table. He moved slowly, like he was approaching a skittish animal. He crouched between Sarah and Brent’s chairs and said something that was too quiet for me to hear.
The three of them got up from the table and went onto the back porch, where they were in sight but their conversation would be private. Whatever Michael was saying, I could almost see the way tension eased out of Brent and Sarah.
“How could you do this to them?” my mom demanded, bringing my attention back to my parents.
This time, A.J.’s hand tightened painfully on mine.
“Why do you insist on torturing us?” she continued. “We all know what happened to Lilly. She’s dead, and to pretend otherwise is just—just—”
“I thought,” I began, but my mom cut me off.
“If it turns out Lilly really is dead, Sarah won’t survive. Have you thought about that? Have you thought about what it will do to Brent when she dies?”
She covered her face with both hands and let out a muffled sob. My dad looked from my mom to me, his expression miserable.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I was trying to help.”
“No.” The harsh word came from Diego. He was leaning forward, one of his fists curled on the table. The other was gripping the back of my chair. He gave me a hard look that held none of his usual sarcastic humor. “You are not the one who should be apologizing.” He glared at my parents so fiercely they both shrank a little in their chairs. “You will not speak to her like that.”
“Diego,” I said, but he ignored me.
“Bri has risked her life to find out what happened to your granddaughter, while you sit here nice and safe in your little house.”
“Diego—”
“Bri has lost just as much as you, but she isn’t crying about it and wallowing in denial.”
I felt a hard pressure on my shoulder, which Diego was now gripping. I wasn’t even sure he’d noticed. He was really angry. He’d reacted the same way after I told him I’d broken into his apartment and taken his Agent S.
“Stop,” I hissed at Diego, taking his hand and removing it from my shoulder.
“I hate to say it,” A.J. cut in before I could say anything else. “But Diego’s right.”
It was the first time A.J. had referred to Diego by name, rather than as the Chameleon or Sexy Cinnamon Man.
“Bri has been running herself ragged,” A.J. continued. “I understand you’re in pain, but that’s no excuse for behaving like heathens.”
“Bri,” my dad said through clenched teeth. “Your mother and I would like to speak to you. Alone.”
The back door opened at that moment, and Sarah came in wiping her eyes. Michael and Brent were behind her.
Sarah gave us a wobbly smile.
“Thank you so much for coming,” she said to me and the guys. She reached back and squeezed Michael’s hand. “Thank you for everything. Truly.”
“You’re welcome,” Michael replied, extricating his hand from hers.
“I’ll, uh, call if I find out anything else,” I said, getting up in such a hurry I almost knocked over my chair.
“Bri, wait,” my brother said. He glanced from Sarah to our parents. “I want to come with you to look for Lilly. You’re right about everything.”
He was about to say more, but my parents’ outcry made it impossible.
“You are not going to a slave mine,” my father said, before turning his attention on me. “And neither are you. I forbid it.”
“Call the police,” my mom said, nervously tugging on one of her blonde curls. “They’ll take care of it, I’m sure.”
Diego and A.J. let out synchronized scoffs.
“Bri’s right,” Brent said. “If we can find out definitively what happened to Lilly, then it’s my responsibility to do it.”
An argument was heating up between Brent and my parents. I stood back, letting them duke it out. As much as I loved my parents, I hadn’t asked for their permission for any of my choices since I decided to go unMarked. I certainly wasn’t asking for their permission now.
“Brent, please.”
Sarah’s voice was soft, but Brent’s head snapped around to give her his full attention. Her eyes were brimming with tears, but she looked more in control of her emotions than I’d see her in years.
She came over and clasped his hands. I looked away, feeling like I was intruding on a private moment between them.
“I can’t survive without you. Please.” She let go of one of his hands to press her fist to her heart. “I want to start to heal with you.” She glanced at Michael before turning her attention back to her husband. “I want to move on with our lives. But I can’t do that without you.”
Uncertainty flickered in Brent’s hazel eyes.
“Come walk us to the car,” I told my brother, because I could see where this conversation was heading.
My brother kissed Sarah before following me out.
“I’ll meet you in the car,” I told the guys as soon as we were out of the stifling house.
Diego, A.J., and Michael exchanged a look. They were hovering protectively around me, like they might need to jump in and save me from another verbal assault.
I didn’t need their support, but I couldn’t pretend like I didn’t appreciate it. I gave up on trying to get rid of them and shut the door behind Brent to make sure my parents didn’t follow him out.
“I’m going back to the mine to find out what happened to Lilly,” I told my brother. “But you have to stay here. Sarah needs you.”
“Lilly’s my daughter,” Brent said. “I can’t let you put yourself in danger for something that’s my problem.”
“Lilly isn’t a problem,” I replied. “And we both know I can take care of myself. Besides, my friends are the toughest Mags around. We’ve handled worse than a slave mine, trust me.”
That last part wasn’t exactly true, but the Seven were no strangers to life-threatening mysteries. And if anything happened to Brent, I’d never be able to live with myself.
A muscle ticked in Brent’s jaw.
“Your wife needs you,” Michael said, coming to my aid. “Trust us to do this for you.”
Brent’s broad shoulders slumped. He let out a long sigh.
“Okay,” he said, glancing back in the direction of the house. “But please…promise me you’ll be careful.” He stooped until he and I were eye level. “Nothing is worth your life, baby sis.”
I gave him a hug. “I’ll be careful,” I promised.
CHAPTER 26
By the time we drove up to the mansion in our borrowed car, I was on pins and needles. My phone had been blowing up for the last ten minutes as Smith and my security team updated me on the drama unfolding in front of our front gate.
“Just what we needed,” A.J. groaned as we caught sight of our house…and the woman who was attempting to climb our unclimbable gate.
Michael parked at the bottom of the driveway and we all got out.
“I have rights!” a familiar and very unwelcome voice wailed.
Valencia Stark.
She had stopped trying to climb the fence, and was now facing off with five of my security guards. A Nat wearing a baggy suit and carrying a scuffed leather briefcase stood beside her, looking nervous and a little embarrassed.
“Valencia, this is private property,” I said, when I was close enough that I wouldn’t need to yell. “Did I not make myself clear the last time we talked?”
Maybe Kaira and Graysen needed to make our prisons a little less inviting, since Valencia was clearly so eager to be back inside one.
“My client is asse
rting her Alliance-mandated right to protest,” the man next to Valencia said. He mopped his sleeve across his sweaty forehead. “Furthermore, it is our right as Naturals to—”
“Who are you, again?” I interrupted, even though Smith had already sent me a detailed file on the man.
“He’s my lawy-ah,” Valencia said, before the man could speak for himself. She pointed at me. “I’m suing you for assaulting me at the baseball game.”
I laughed. Normally, I tried to maintain a higher level of professionalism. But it had been a long day.
By this point, Michael, A.J., and Diego had joined me. I wasn’t sure if they realized it, but the three guys had their arms folded over their chests in identical poses. They were all glaring at Valencia. It was kind of adorable.
“Oh dear,” A.J. said, screwing his face up into one of mock-concern. To me, he said, “We better get you a lawyer stat.” He tapped his chin, pretending to think. He snapped his fingers. “I know who will want to represent you. Director Graysen Gald-ah.”
The lawyer’s shoulders straightened in indignation. “Director Galder is not a lawyer. He has no right—”
“Sure, sure,” A.J. waved a hand. “You go ahead and make that argument to the judge. I’m sure they’ll take your side when the Directors tell the judge what really happened on that baseball field.”
“Not that they’ll need to say anything,” Michael added. “The whole altercation was televised. Have you seen it?”
Michael so rarely displayed any sarcasm or humor, I drank in the moment.
The lawyer’s face blanched. A.J. reached over and gave him a pat on the arm.
I smiled sweetly at the man. “I’m sure clients will be lining up to hire you after this.”
“Actually,” A.J. said. “Let me make a quick call. I know some reporters who would love to get an early preview of your client’s statement.”
A.J. pulled out his phone.
The lawyer mumbled something about needing to reevaluate and fled to his car. Valencia shouted obscenities after him.
“Your five minutes are up,” I told Valencia, making a shooing motion with my fingers.
Since she hadn’t done anything illegal yet, there wasn’t much more I could do.
Mags & Nats 3-Book Box Set Page 88