Master of Salt & Bones

by Keri Lake

  When the weight of it all finally hits me, a sob tears through my chest.

  Finally, we reach The Shoal parking lot, and he settles me into the soft, plush leather of the Bentley and closes the door. As he rounds the car, I steal a glance at the bar. All I want right now is Aunt Midge’s arms wrapped around me, but I can’t bring myself to go back inside and tell her what happened just now. For months, she tried to pull me out that blackness, and I can feel it rising up from my gut like dead bodies in a murky lagoon of bad memories. I left the yearbook back at the park, but that’s the least of my worries right now, as my body shivers, desperate for warmth.

  Makaio falls into the driver’s seat, and for a moment, he sits quietly, not bothering to look back. “Are you okay?”

  I sniff, blinking to hold back the tears. “I don’t know.”

  “If I tell him what happened tonight, he’ll want them properly punished.”

  Properly punished. What does that even mean, with the information I’ve been given about Lucian in the last few hours? What would he do, if given the opportunity?

  I have nothing to say in response, because the truth is, if Lucian was standing here now and asking me if I wanted Makaio to go back and punish the hell out of them, I’d probably tell him yes. “How did you find me?”

  “The bracelet.”

  Frowning, I stare down at the adornment on my wrist. “You tracked me?”

  “For exactly what happened tonight. He wants to keep you safe.” The engine roars to life and lurches forward, and Makaio turns out of the parking lot.

  “Can you please just take me back to my aunt’s house? Please, Makaio.”

  “No. You’re safer with Lucian now.”

  Chapter 54

  Lucian

  The investigating officer sits across from my desk, his partner in the chair beside him. From the looks of it, the rookie was trying out the big boy wheels, by asking all the questions, while his mentor sat quietly beside him. Observing me, no doubt.

  Too bad for them, I hold fucking degrees in bullshitting. It’s wound up in my DNA alongside my eye color, dark hair, and penchant for rough sex. These guys will be lucky to walk away with one straight answer by the time this inquiry is over.

  “I understand she worked a couple years for you, as a nurse to your mother.”

  Rookie boy’s attempt to sound official is thwarted by the uncertain glance toward the seasoned cop beside him, the sight of which, tugs at my lips for a smile. I’ll give the kid some credit--he’s trying to be thorough, just doing his job, but if they think they’re pinning another murder on me, after the bullshit I’ve gone through with my dead wife and son, they’re nuts. I’m not going to be this town’s designated scapegoat every time a body floats to the surface.

  “She worked for an agency that we hired.”

  “Okay. And, um …” Face buried in his notes, the kid doesn’t seem to have a single thought of his own about this investigation. He’s spent most of the time staring at whatever he wrote down before knocking on my door. “She was fired the week before. What was the nature of that?”

  “My mother’s pills have gone missing.”

  “So, you fired her because she was stealing pills?”

  “I fired her because she wasn’t the right fit. Happens, sometimes. Some people just aren’t cut out for certain jobs.”

  His partner rubs his hand across his face as if to hide the smirk I catch, and I eye the signet ring on the older man’s finger. With his cockeyed, misbuttoned shirt, and hair that looks like he trims it himself, the guy seems the type to harbor little patience for anything, especially some wannabe badass on training wheels.

  “We did find a prescription bottle for Laura Blackthorne.”

  “And is that why you decided to interrupt my evening?”

  The kid looks to his partner, then back to me, frowning. “We’re just following up.”

  “Was there evidence of foul play?”

  “No, we … dusted for prints. Didn’t find any outside of the maid and Miss Anders, of course. The lab is checking out what she injected in the syringe. But the room was rented under a James Smith. Does that name ring a bell?”

  “Yeah. It’s probably the most common name in this country. You got a credit card? Camera footage?”

  “No. It appears the room was paid in cash for the week. And the Crow’s Nest doesn’t have any outdoor cameras, from what we understand. Just one in the office to make sure their employees aren’t stealing anything.”

  “Then, my guess? She wanted a place to get high without anyone finding her.”

  “Funny, that was my guess, as well,” the older officer says, leaning forward. “I think that’s all the questions we have for you, Mr. Blackthorne. Thanks for your time.” Pushing to his feet, he reaches out a hand, which I shake from across the desk.

  “Of course. Anything I can do to help the investigation, I’m happy to assist.”

  “One more question.” Once again, the rookie buries his face in his notes, his eyeballs shifting back and forth as they scan the page. “She worked for you a couple years. Why would you suddenly decide she wasn’t the right fit out of the blue?”

  “I try not to delve too deeply into the personal affairs of those I employ, but I will say, there’s been a gradual decline in her performance. We recently had an incident where she left without informing anyone, which put my mother at risk. I also found her to be increasingly impatient with my mother.”

  “Do you mind if I … chat with your mother for a minute?”

  “I do. My mother won’t be any assistance to you. Her mental faculties aren’t what they used to be.”

  “Still, it might be--”

  “We’re not chatting with Mrs. Blackthorne. We’ve got more pressing issues than a drug addict who decided to hole herself up for the weekend and overdose on heroin.”

  “Of course. Thank you for your time, Mr. Blackthorne.”

  The officers exit my office, along with Rand, who didn’t bother to say a word from the time he showed them in up until now. I pour myself a drink, carrying the glass back to my desk, and pulling out my phone, I check my texts.

  The last one I received was Makaio, telling me Isa had apparently left the bar to walk back home. Why? No idea. On the way back, though, it appeared she caught on and ran from him, through the park. And that’s when Makaio got in touch with me.

  I dial his number, which he answers on the second ring. “Yeah, Boss, I found her.”

  “And?”

  “She’s okay. Shaken up a bit. Some little pricks in the park were messing with her.”

  “I trust you intervened.”

  “That I did.”

  “Everyone still has a pulse?” I pitch back the entire glass of liquor, trying to erase the mind-numbing exercise of having entertained an infant cop for the last hour.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I don’t need another investigation thrown in my lap.”

  “Rest assured, I only smacked them around a bit.”

  “Enough to serve as a warning, I hope.”

  “I don’t think they’ll mess with her again. And if they do, I’ll be sure to make it clearer.”

  The comment makes me smile as I fill another glass of bourbon. “I want her brought directly to my office when you arrive.”

  “Sure thing, Boss.”

  As I hang up the phone, the elevator dings, and Rand strides toward me.

  “Is there something you want to tell me?” I ask, falling back into my chair and kicking my feet up on the desk.

  “I can assure you, I carried out your orders to the T. I let the woman know we were aware of the private investigator, and I let her go. That was the last I saw, or heard, from her.”

  “I don’t like surprises. Having two police officers show up at my door is definitely a shitty surprise.”

  Arms crossed in front of him, Rand lowers his gaze. “My apologies, Sir.”

  “Did you have any awareness of her addiction?”
/>
  “Based on the information of our contacts, I was aware she had a history of drug abuse, but her tests have since been clean.”

  “Guess it was a bad night, then. Relapse, maybe.”

  The warm buzz of alcohol begins to dull my frustration from before, and I switch my mind to something else, no less concerning, but more worthy of my attention. “I appreciate the information on Isa. It appears she had a run-in this evening while in town.”

  “She’s okay, I hope.”

  “Yes. According to Makaio, she’s a little shaken. If I find out it has anything to do with the bastards who attacked her before, I’ll have their dicks severed and sent in a gift-wrapped box to their parents.”

  The nervous shift of his feet tells me Rand believes every word of my threat. “Is that wise, Master? Given the attention Ms. Anders has brought our way?”

  “I don’t give a fuck whether it’s wise, or not.”

  The elevator dings again, and this time, it opens up to Makaio and Isa, who looks a bit disheveled and pale.

  “That will be all, gentlemen, please excuse us.”

  Both Rand and Makaio quickly exit the office, disappearing behind the closing elevator door, while Isa stands in the center of the room, her gaze downward.

  In the silence between us, I scan over her, making sure not a single bruise mars her skin, the sight of which will trip my slowly budding temper. “Exciting night, as I understand.”

  The way her eyes shift, glassed over with tears, makes me wonder if Makaio left out something important.

  “What happened?”

  Instead of answering, she shakes her head, and the quiver of her lip raises the hairs on my neck. One thing I’ve learned about Isa in the last few weeks: she doesn’t cry easily.

  “They hurt you.” I can hardly say the words past the clenching of my teeth, my body wound up to throw a fist through something, depending on her answer.

  When she shakes her head, I exhale the rage on a shaky breath, mentally willing my muscles to ease up.

  “Makaio arrived before anything happened,” she finally says. “Your gift. It’s a tracking device.”

  “It is.”

  “Why?”

  “The answer is fairly obvious, I think.”

  “Why do you feel the need to keep track of me?”

  Time for another drink.

  I lean forward and pour the decanter into the awaiting glass. “Why do we put GPS on our phones. Our pets? Anything we don’t want to get lost?”

  The indignant expression on her face is a sure bet she doesn’t like that answer. “Is that what I am? An object? A pet you don’t want to run away?”

  “I didn’t embed it in you, Isa. It’s a fucking bracelet.”

  “That you insisted I never take off.”

  If this night gets any worse, I might be inclined to buy a lottery ticket. Pushing up from the chair, I round the desk toward her. “You’re angry. Shaken. You need to rest.”

  The second I reach out for her, she recoils, throwing her arm back like my fingertips are hot metal. “Don’t you fucking touch me.”

  I lurch toward her, but she scampers back. Catching her arm, I yank her into me, holding her against me, as she squirms and pushes at my chest in a slightly humorous, yet failed, attempt to get away.

  “Why did you run off?”

  Another shove to my chest fails to break my grasp. “Why did you instruct Makaio to bring me back here? Are the weekends no longer my free time?”

  “Not when one of my former employees was found dead in a motel room.”

  She stills at that, her eyes blazing with accusation as she stares up at me. “Did you kill her? Nell?” There isn’t even a hint of apology this time, unlike when she asked about my son, which tells me she’s really pissed off at me about the bracelet.

  “No. I didn’t. It seems the rumors are true this time. She overdosed.”

  “And what about Franco? Did you kill him?”

  I study her eyes, searching for explanation into why she suddenly has all these questions for me. What happened when she left the manor? Why did she run off? “No.”

  “No? You’re lying to me, then?”

  Tricky, this one. “No. I didn’t kill him. Technically. Makaio did.” Since the fight seems to be out of her at the moment, I loosen my grip, but don’t yet release her. “He threatened to kill your mother and your aunt. Was I supposed to stand by and do nothing?”

  “You could’ve given me the money. Struck a deal with me.” She shoves at me again, this time with her teeth clenched and bared like a cornered little wolverine. “Instead, you’re a murderer!”

  “Now you’re a saint? You didn’t seem troubled to know he was out of your life when the threat was still alive in your head.”

  “I would never have asked you to kill on my behalf.”

  “Well, too fucking bad. Because that’s what I do when someone threatens what’s mine.” Squeezing both of her arms, I give her a shake that’s rougher than I intend, but hell if this girl hasn’t wound me up all night with her antics. “I didn’t ask for this, Isa. I kept my distance. I warned you to stay away from me. But you didn’t. And now? You’re going to find out just how protective I am over the things that belong to me.”

  “Belong to you? I never belonged to you. We made that clear in the beginning, remember?”

  “No. I made it clear that I couldn’t pursue a relationship with you. That doesn’t mean I won’t kill a bastard for laying his hands on you.”

  She flinches and twists her arms, trying to wriggle out of my grasp. “I don’t need your protection!”

  And I don’t need to remind her of what happened tonight, proving she does. Not because I don’t think she can take care of herself, but because she doesn’t have a clue what she’s up against, if Friedrich and the others find out about her.

  Still frowning, she stops trying to break free. “I don’t know who the hell is lying and who is telling the truth anymore.”

  “So, why don’t you start paying attention to the facts.”

  Again, her eyes are like laser beams ready to split me down the center. “That you keep women as sex slaves? That everyone who works for you is terrified of you? That you have the power to silence what threatens you without repercussions? Which facts should I pay attention to, Lucian?”

  I back her toward the couch, and with a small shove, she falls over the arm of the chair onto the cushions, where I cage her beneath me. I’m about a second away from muzzling this girl with my lips. “Nell overdosed on drugs. What more do you want me to say? What is it that you want?”

  Lips peeled back, she looks like she would tear right through me if she could. “I want out of here. Nothing to do with this place. Nothing to do with murderers. Or slavers. Or you!”

  My patience finally explodes. I grip tight to her jaw, breathing hard through my nose to keep the rising fury in check. “I’m not a murderer. And no woman has been kept here against her will.” Eyes falling to her lips, I want more than anything to kiss her right now, but I’m certain she’d steal the opportunity to bite my fucking lip right off my face.

  “Prove it. Let me go.”

  “You want to go? You want to leave?” The very thought of her leaving is like a punch to my chest. A hard, steal-your-fucking-breath punch that has my head spinning out of control, my muscles wound up in tight balls of rage.

  “Yes.”

  Grinding my teeth, I stare back at her, urging myself to stay away from those lips. I release her face, and it takes every ounce of strength in my body to step away from her. “Fine. Makaio will drop you off first thing in the morning.”

  Chapter 55

  Isadora

  The buzz of my cellphone rips me out of dreams, and I sit up in bed. Morning light shimmers through the curtains, while I wipe the sleep from my eyes and lift my phone to see a call from Aunt Midge. I texted her last night, letting her know I decided to stay the night at Kelsey’s. I hate having to lie to her, but the truth will
only make her worry.

  “Hello?”

  “Isa … you need to come home.” Even through the phone, her voice carries the weight of grief and sends a shiver of goosebumps across my skin.

  “What is it? What’s happened?”

  “Your mother … she was found dead this morning. You need to come home.”

  Makaio closes the passenger door of the Bentley, and as he rounds the vehicle, I catch Lucian standing in the window of his office, staring down at me. Hands stuffed in the pockets of his slacks, he carries the same stern body language as when I first arrived, and I know he’s angry with me. I didn’t bother to say goodbye, or tell him about my mother.

  There’s no point.

  My return to Aunt Midge is merely to be there for my aunt.

  The news of my mother didn’t exactly come as a surprise to me, seeing as I’ve waited nearly a decade for that call to come in. A person doesn’t get to live that perilously without fate kicking in at some point. A part of me feels hollow and cold, empty inside, but not from the same sadness that will surely crush Aunt Midge over the coming days. Mine is a yearning. A craving to find some small piece of me that still gives a shit about something.

  My disconnect with Lucian the night before was like snipping the only other thing that mattered to me, aside from my aunt. Now, I feel like I’m drifting. A flitting scrap caught up by the wind.

  As the car pulls away, my heart withers inside my chest. For a fleeting moment, I was certain what I had with Lucian was real. That, for the first time in my life, I felt something genuine.

  There is safety in Lucian, insofar as I’m willing to take a leap over the edge of a treacherous cliff to reach it. I should’ve known better than to get involved with a man like him—a deity of wrath and flames, when I’m nothing but a mortal, playing with fire.

  I didn’t grow up with the kind of power he wields, the kind that can eliminate threats and competition without consequence. The kind that can hunt down a dangerous drug dealer and bury him right under my nose. I was naive to think that he’d struck a deal with Franco, or paid him off. How foolish to imagine two predators could come to some mutual understanding that way.