His heart sunk. “You should…” stumbling on his words, “… you should consider staying. For your own protection, of course.”
“Oh yeah, because protecting me is defined as kidnapping, and holding me against my wishes, correct?”
“I did what I thought—” he started.
“Fuck that, Attor.” Her voice rose, void of the humor it held moments before. “Thinking by definition would mean considering what was best for the person in question. If you think, grabbing me, dragging me under the water, turning in to a monster in front of my eyes and kidnapping me to an underwater jail, is for ‘my own good’…” she paused and then continued, … “I swear I will let my knee meet your balls again.” Her body was shaking with anger. “I don’t care how fucking hot you are. This is not for my own good. I don’t know what your plan was, or what you hoped to achieve by your actions—”
“You were being hunted. Endangered. I wanted to protec—”
Taryn cut him off. “Did I fucking ask you?”
“But—” Attor only got one word out before she cut him off.
“Kylee assumed I needed help. You jumped in like a knight on a white stallion, drawing your sword to save a damsel in distress…” Taryn mocked him with hand gestures. “Thing is, Attor…” she stopped to look him in the eyes, “… I’m not a damsel in distress. I can and will battle my own demons. Not the battles of my family, nor of the ghosts they hunt.” Her voice was firm, every sound rolled perfectly articulated from her tongue. “I’m not your family. This is not your battle. Come the morning? I am gone.”
Taryn saw Payton come out of a door a little bit up from where they were sitting. “Payton?” She saw her friends head pop up to see her. “Can you show me where I can sleep?”
Payton’s eyes flicked from Taryn to Attor, by the look on Attor’s face, whatever the conversation was, it hadn’t ended well. Maybe some space was a good thing. Payton shrugged as she nodded to Taryn. “Follow me, hon.”
Attor sat, his eyes never leaving Taryn until she vanished down a hallway. She hated him for dragging her here, and there was not a chance of forgiveness. Come the morning, he would have to let her go.
Can I let her go? he asked himself.
Do I have a choice? He sighed heavily, standing, and making his way back to the warrior’s wing and his room.
Volos looked up, and Attor walked into the room. “Brother, we have information.”
Attor walked over, his footsteps were heavy with an emotional weight dragging him down. He exhaled as he looked at his brothers. Jo and Ladon seemed excited to be sharing what it was they had found, and Vern was furiously typing on a laptop. Meanwhile, here he was, unable to hold on to the gift that was bestowed upon him. He had failed in his attempt to be leader, he had been distracted from his mission to kill the enemies, and adding salt to his open wound, his mate hated him.
If I Googled the word ‘failure,’ Attor said to himself. My picture would be right there at the top.
“I helped Ladon come out of the closet.” Jo laughed loudly. “The bathroom actually, but same, same.” Looking at his brother as he ducked the incoming fist punch.
Attor’s head turned to look at Ladon, a smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. “I am not as shocked as I would have thought.”
“Jo was just disappointed that the only thing dirty about the blonde was her hair color,” Ladon snorted.
“The window blonde?” Attor’s attention snagged by the direction the information was taking. “Did you get into her office?” he asked. “What did you find out?”
“Do you know the name Spigoletti?” V asked him.
Shaking his head, Attor answered, “Should I?”
“The family is based in Vegas,” Wyvern said. His eyes locked on the screen as he spoke. “Wow!” Perplexed, he continued, “That’s one fascinating family.”
“How so?” V asked. “Interesting like the Kardashians, stupid but harmless, or more like the Mansons, unstable and lethal?”
Wyvern laughed at his brother’s two references. “You follow the Kardashians?”
“Payton likes it,” V growled. “That’s all…” He looked at his brothers who were all hiding the laughter. “Fuck off. Just wait ‘til you all have a mate, let’s see who’s laughing then.” He shook his head.
“If you say so…” Wyvern didn’t pry further, deciding V would appreciate a subject change he said, “Think more along the lines of Capone.”
“As in Al Capone?” Jo’s eyes widened, he’d done a lot of research on the Capones, because crime families were something that fascinated him. How a large family can work like a well-oiled machine, committing horrendous crimes right in the middle of cities without being caught, tweaked his interest. It had given him information that might help when fighting the phoenix.
“One and the same,” Vern said as he leaned back in his chair. “The Spigoletti family is a name linked to many possible crimes in Vegas. Like the Capones, they are exceptional at evading arrest due to technicalities. But the force has them on a watch list for criminal activities.”
“What kind of crimes?” V asked.
“Money laundering mostly. They own a number of large hotels on the strip. Missing people cases, drug busts, etc.” Vern read off the laptop.
“Missing people?” Jo snorted. “Is that French for having been eliminated without a body being found?”
Vern nodded. “I would think that’s a safe assumption.”
“What has this got to do with the dirty blonde?” Attor asked. “What am I missing?”
Ladon said, “Cinders, the blonde, had a conversation with a Mr. Spigoletti. Jo and I were hiding in the bathroom and heard her side of it.” Looking at Jo, he dared him to make a stupid comment about the closet again. Jo held his arms up with a look of innocent surrender, allowing Ladon to continue, “Cinders was scared, like really scared.”
“What’s that got to do with us?” Attor’s words hit with an annoyance. “Some blonde chick is scared of a mafia family in Vegas. Again, what the fuck has this got to do with us?” Attor’s patience had broken, opening a wave of frustration threatening to hit anyone close enough.
Volos spoke calmly, “We think that it’s the Spigoletti family that’s hunting down Taryn.”
Attor slumped back into the chair he’d been leaning against, a hand found his hair as he rubbed his head in frustration. “How certain are you of this?” Attor looked at Vern.
“The odds are high,” Vern spoke quietly. “This is a very powerful family, brother, one that would create fear in most who encounter them.”
“Are they human?” Jo had a random thought.
“The name doesn’t come up on any of my paranormal indexes. Now that won’t guarantee they are all human. For the most part, though, I would say, yes.”
Attor looked up. “Cinders gave a different energy. I couldn’t pin it from the distance I was, but she certainly wasn’t human.”
Jo nodded. “I agree. What’s even weirder?” he said. “Close up, all I got was a feeling of more, not any particular tell-tale vibes.” Ladon nodded in agreement.
“Didn’t you say she had said she was risking herself?” V asked Jo and Ladon.
“Correct,” Ladon answered. “She was risking her life, hiding whoever it was she was hiding.”
“Taryn?” the word floated off Attor’s tongue on a worried breath.
“That’s what we’re thinking,” V said. “Cinders may be an expert in camouflage if she’s in hiding herself? Then maybe either by herself, or with the aid of magic, she’s able to hide her true self from detection.” V paused for a few thoughts. “Wouldn’t be the first time a paranormal has hidden themselves in order to vanish from their families.”
“Is Cinders a danger to Taryn?” Attor asked.
Wyvern shrugged. “Right now, it’s hard to tell who’s a danger to whom. However, if, we are right, and that’s still an if, then Cinders is protecting Taryn. From what? Or who?” He shrugged again. “That is questi
onable.”
“We need to talk to Taryn.”
Jo’s comment was quick to get a response from Attor. His head flicked around with a mix of horror, shock, and hint of excitement at confronting his mate. In order for him to help her, he would need to ask at some point.
But was that point now? he asked himself as he looked at Jo. “She already hates me, Jo. I am going to go down in history as the first dragon whose fated mate loathes him.”
“Payton wasn’t exactly enthused with me at first.” V laughed. “If you cast your mind back.”
Jo burst out laughing. “Ah, newsflash, fuckers, don’t kidnap your women. They don’t respond well to being held captive.”
Attor looked at his brother. “And what would you have had me do in place of bringing her here?” He sincerely wanted to know, but admitting to his brother that he wasn’t sure in the ways of females was hard, so he added, “Listen up, brothers, as Jo… the mighty love guru, speaks.”
Jo laughed. “I need that in a tattoo…” Another chuckle escaped before he continued, “I would have done what I said, talked to her.”
“I did…”
Jo lifted his hand to stop his brother. “Did you tell her… ‘Hey babe, let me walk you to the water. Drag you under the water’s surface. Grow some big ass wings, and swim you to an underground nest for your safekeeping?’” Jo’s head tilted. “Or… did you say ‘I have a safe house. Let me take you there.’”
“Semantics,” Attor scoffed. “It’s the same thing.”
“Not even close to the same thing,” Jo snorted. “You should have opened your wallet and shelled out for a top-level hotel room. Given her a long hot soak in a spa bath, and when she was finished, a plethora of sweets waiting for her consumption. Have the bed filled to the brim with plush pillows and chick flicks playing ready for her to watch until the wee hours when she simply fell asleep from exhaustion in your conveniently waiting arms.”
V’s eyebrow slowly rose as he listened to this advice coming from his brother. “You’re never to speak to Payton again. I’m already feeling inadequate from just listening to that description. I can only imagine how much Payton would like that.”
“Ahhh… then do it, dickhead.” Jo shook his head. “For a woman to trust you with her secrets, she needs to feel you are trustworthy. She needs to know that for you, she’s the single most important thing in your life. Make her understand you would move heaven and earth to see her smile. You would take a bullet for her safety. You would even eat the burnt toast, so she didn’t have to.” Leaning back in his chair. “Women need to know how valuable they are. And if you don’t show it, then you don’t deserve her.”
“Fuck, man,” Wyvern exclaimed. “You need to write a book on it.”
V laughed. “Yeah, title it ‘Dragons Do It Better – Ten steps to scale your woman’s wall of love.’”
“It’s just common sense. Make her feel special, and she will come around.” Jo got up from his chair. “I’m off for the night, it’s late, and my brain is mush.”
V nodded. “Good idea. Meet back here at eight. Plan what to do next.”
The murmur of agreement, and footsteps echoed on the stone as the brothers bid goodnight to each other on their way to their rooms.
Pettigrove stood in the airport at the customs line, waiting for her time to be seen. She had been in the air for just over fourteen hours, and all she wanted was some decent food and a foot rub.
“Next,” a small male said. He was wearing a uniform stating his importance, but he was only five feet tall if that. Pettigrove tried hard to not look ‘down’ on this small man who had the power to make her life extremely difficult if he chose to do so.
“Anything to declare?” he said with a robotic voice. He was obviously pulling the night shift because he looked like it had been a long hard shift and it was only 6:00 a.m. local time. “Ma’am?” he prompted her again, slightly annoyed she wasn’t paying him the attention he expected.
“Oh, yeah. No, nothing,” Pettigrove stumbled on her words, she was functioning on too little sleep and too many mini bottles of bubbles.
“Yes, or no, ma’am.” He’d shortened his words with now obvious annoyance.
Pettigrove stood a little taller, she was tipping the charts at five feet ten, so when she stood tall, she towered over him. “Nothing to declare, sir.”
His eyes lingered a few seconds too long on her, as she shifted her weight uncomfortably. “Business or pleasure?” he asked her, his eyes dropping to the open passport he was holding.
“Little of both,” Pettigrove expressed with a playful wisp. “I have some business to attend to, but who can visit the amazing city of Tokyo and not sing at, at least one karaoke bar, right?” Her head tilted as she tried to get a reaction from the deadpanning face of her custom’s officer. When he just stared silently at her, she tried a little wiggle of her hips as she sung, “Let It Gooo…”
“Just go…” he said dismissively.
“Ahhh, no. I am sure it is ‘Let It Go,’” she corrected him.
Puzzled, he stared at her blankly.
“Oh…” she said flustered. “You mean… me to go?”
He slowly nodded.
Pettigrove chuckled as she picked up her passport, suitcase, and handbag. She smiled at the man who still hadn’t cracked any kind of emotion on his face the entire time he had dealt with her. Turning for the door, she hot-footed it out and into an awaiting taxi.
“Ritz Carlton,” she told the driver, and with a nod, they were off.
It only seemed a short time before the car was pulling up in front of a massive and opulent-looking building. Her bags were removed from the taxi without her having to lay a finger on them. She walked up to and into a huge foyer, full of marble and gold. It was indeed a sight to behold. She glided over to the check in and was greeted by a beautiful young lady with a smile that was worth a million dollars.
“Welcome to the Ritz-Carlton. Do you have a booking?” Her voice was like a chorus of angels all singing in perfect unison.
“Pettigrove,” she said. It was now close to 8:00 a.m. and her body was aching all over.
“Ms. Pettigrove,” she sang. “Welcome. Please sign here, and I will have your bags immediately transported to the Presidential Suite.” The woman turned some papers, holding out a pen for Pettigrove to initial her check-in. “I will need a credit card imprint, ma’am, and photo identification.”
Pettigrove handed over the requested cards and did her best to stay patient.
“Perfect. Here is your key.” Her hand swept to the right. “The elevator is to the right, and you are on the fifty-third floor. You will fall in love with the views, it’s a particularly clear day today, so you can see forever.” She flashed that smile again.
Pettigrove nodded, scooping up her cards and key, as she turned and made her way to her room.
Surprised at how fast and smooth the elevator trip was, she stepped out onto the fifty-third floor and to her room.
Room? she thought. It’s a fucking house. Laughing to herself as she wandered around the huge space. Massive glass windows gave her incredible views. The woman at the front desk had been correct.
“It would want to be awesome,” she spoke to no one. “Twenty-five thousand a night, I expect the best of the best.” Her eyes traveled from wall to wall as she walked in and out of each room. “Let’s hope I find this girl sooner rather than later. Time is money. Especially in this room.”
Pettigrove threw her coat on the chair, after all that travel she felt like a used wad of chewing gum. Regardless of the costly priorities, she needed a soak. Pettigrove stripped as she went in search of a spa to renew her tired body.
Attor pulled his black T-shirt over his head as he rounded the corner into the common area for him and his brothers to meet. Sitting on the sofa was Taryn, positioned perfectly in the corner, so the first thing he saw was her. Taryn had tucked her legs under her butt, and she was lost in reading some papers. They were scattered a
round her on the sofa and the coffee table. A sheet of paper in her hands was shaking like a leaf caught in a strong Autumn breeze. As Attor walked silently forward, he could see tears running down her cheeks.
What’s she reading? he half asked himself when the answer popped through. Fuuuck, he yelled at himself. They were the research papers Wyvern had left from last night, and she was presently reading all the research they had gathered on her. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fucker… fuck. Seeing tears roll over the curve of Taryn’s cheekbone and fall on to a heart that was obviously in pain, caused him a physical agony of which he had never experienced before. His brain had shut down to limited vocabulary as it repeated the same f-word over and over.
Taryn’s eyes lifted to his, the wetness glistening like acid burning scars into his heart, sapphire colored eyes wept as her chest throbbed with a surge of fresh torment.
Attor fell heavily to his knees, his body crumbling in defeat. Coal colored fingers of a torturous betrayal, seizing his heart, squeezing until it felt like at any moment it would rupture with irreparable damage.
Taryn’s body hitched with a partial laugh. “You almost had me, Attor, you and your sexy as fuck eyes almost had me convinced that you were one of the good guys.”
“I have never lied to you.” His words were low, his head still tilted toward the floor at her feet.
Taryn’s silence sliced through him like a red-hot sword of judgment, having gone straight past the arrest, trial, and headed directly to the annihilation of his soul.
“That’s funny…” When she finally spoke her voice was so calm. Attor normally liked calm, but right now? It made him increasingly nervous. “These?” She lifted the paper in her hand. “Would tell a different story.”
“I can explain…” Attor started to say as he lifted his head to meet her eyes, instantly wishing he hadn’t. He thought he’d seen her look of disgust and hate already, but this look? Pain. A haunted look of a breaking heart threatened to crush him. The way her eyes locked on to him, it sent ice-cold shards up, shooting like daggers into his already aching chest. He could feel the chill traveling around his body as the self-destruction button was punched with such force it nearly pushed him back into the wall.
Depth (Apalala Clan Book 2) Page 13