Pieces (Patchwork #1)

by T. Aleo

  I shrug. “Told ya I can handle myself.”

  Both he and JJ scoff at that, shaking their heads as Oceanus looks back at me. “It sounds like I’m leaving because I am. We all are, except you and Cyrus. We are going to visit the clans, spend a few days with them to check things out.”

  I make a face. “Stay with them? They live down the road.”

  “Yes, but we want to show our presence. Father does this a lot.”

  I know that, but it still seems kind of silly to me. Apparently, it’s good for the clans, but I think it just gives everyone a reason to get sloppy drunk in the privacy of their own homes. Despite my own thoughts, I nod. “Okay.”

  “Okay, don’t do anything stupid,” he reminds and I shrug.

  “I wish I had a dollar for every time you said that,” I say as his lips touch my temple.

  He laughs as he backs away. “You’d be rich.”

  I smile as he turns and starts down the hall, his big body taking up most of the corridor. As he disappears and JJ comes up beside me, I know Oceanus is right. I would be rich from the stupid stuff he says I always do, but does finding Killian and speaking to him constitute stupid?

  I happen to think it doesn’t.

  When I step out of my room to find JJ isn’t in his normal spot, I can’t help but grin. This moment doesn’t happen hardly ever, so the fact he isn’t there has me giddy. It will be short-lived, only a week or so, but I don’t care. I don’t have my constant shadow, and that is pretty freaking awesome. With JJ traveling with my father and Oceanus, Cyrus is left to watch me since Jonas is away taking care of other “business.”

  And by business, I mean he left to meet some girl in New Orleans.

  Bringing the strap of my backpack up higher on my shoulder, I wish I could go to New Orleans, or hell, anywhere. One day. Right now, I’ll enjoy not having a shadow and go do what I have been planning to do since I learned the three main men in my life would be away. It will be easy because, let’s be honest, Cyrus won’t be watching me like JJ does. With the extra security around my home, I doubt he feels he has to be up my ass, which is good because I’m going to find Killian.

  I assume he is in the bastille since I’m not allowed in there. The only problem is that it’s massive down there, spreading out along the whole length of our home. It could take hours to find him. I don’t know why Father had such a large prison built since we don’t have many inmates, but he did, and because of that, I might have a hard time finding Killian. Which causes a problem. While Cyrus is insanely lazy and won’t be on me like white on rice, he would notice me if I’m gone for long periods of time.

  So I have to be quick.

  When I round the corner, my brows come together when I find Cyrus walking toward me. His head is down as he looks at his phone, and I swear he is nothing like our father or brothers. Unlike them, Cyrus is wearing sweats and a ball cap. Oceanus would never be caught dead in sweats and neither would Father. Jonas, maybe, but Cyrus, he just doesn’t care one bit. Everyone always says I’m the black swan of the family, but truth be told, Cyrus is just as dark.

  “Hey,” he says when he looks up at me, his eyebrow quirking. “Please don’t tell me you were about to run or some crazy shit.”

  He seems so bored, so put out, and I can’t help but laugh. “No, dork, I’m going down to the bastille to visit my guys, bring them some snacks and stuff, like always.”

  I try to be offhanded about it, like I’m allowed down there, but to my dismay, Cyrus’s face scrunches up in confusion. “Wait, can you do that?”

  Trying not to panic, I hold his gaze. “Can I do what? I go down there all the time.”

  “Yeah, true, okay. Let’s go.”

  Whoa. That was easy, a little too easy. Is Killian not down there? “Cool,” I mutter as I fall into step with him. I want to ask, but I don’t want to seem inquisitive or eager. Cyrus may be bored, but he can still be quick as a whip at times.

  “I should probably call Father and ask, but with that douche not down there anymore, I don’t think it matters,” he says, and my heart sinks.

  Shit.

  “True. So he’s not down there?” I ask, all my plans blowing up in my face.

  Cyrus shrugs. “They moved him or killed him. Something. I don’t know.”

  My eyes burn as I look at his profile, and my heart pounds in my chest, almost cracking my ribs. Unlike my brothers and me, Cyrus’s face isn’t quite as sewn together. He only has one scar, along his chin where I cracked his jaw and he had to get it bolted together. He is actually very handsome, and Father always says if he weren’t so lazy, he would make a woman very happy. “How can you be so callous?”

  He scoffs. “Why don’t I care that some shifter is dead? Because he was after my sister, and yeah, I couldn’t care less about the dude.”

  I bite the inside of my lip. “But what if he wasn’t?”

  He gives me an incredulous look. “I’ve been around longer than you—”

  “A year, Cyrus.”

  He doesn’t seem to hear me as he goes on. “And let me tell you, those shifters are out for blood. They don’t trust Father, they want our formula, they want our secrets. So for him to shift to a vamp and proceed to get closer to you? I can promise you, he wasn’t here to hit it and quit it. He wants to hold you so Father hands over the formula. Don’t forget that.”

  I swallow hard as I look down at the floor, drawing in a deep breath. The rational part of me should know that my brother is right, and hell, so is the whole family, but a feeling deep in my gut tells me something entirely different.

  Man, I need to talk to Killian.

  Like now.

  But where could he be?

  “You know what? Why don’t we go work out first?” he asks as we start down the stairs. “Have you worked out this morning?”

  I shake my head. “Not yet.”

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  As much as I want to get down to the bastille, see for myself, I feel like I need to regroup, think of some other place he could be. While I do that, though, knocking the shit out of my brother for a couple hours sounds like a blast.

  Sweat drips down my face and into my eyes, but that doesn’t stop me from swinging hard on Cyrus, going for his face. Instead, he blocks me, pushing me back. As I go for him again, my mind is going crazy, and I’m really not a hundred percent in this fight. That’s probably why my jaw is aching, and I’m pretty sure a rib is broken.

  But I can’t help it.

  I can’t stop coming up with different places Killian could be.

  I’m pretty sure he isn’t in my father’s office. I would have heard him.

  He isn’t in the lab either. I checked there on my way to get clothes to spar with Cyrus.

  So where else could he be?

  I wonder if my father just told Cyrus he killed him, knowing he would tell me.

  Or maybe Cyrus is lying to me.

  The possibility makes my blood boil.

  Wrapping my hands behind his head, I slam his face down into my knee before swinging around and landing my elbow to his face. He falls back but gets right back up, shaking his head and coming for me. Soon we are trading punches, each one hurting more and more, but neither of us will back down. I slam into him, and he knocks me back onto my butt. I have to admit I’m surprised. When I start to get up, though, he holds his hands up.

  “Enough, sister. Jesus, I think you broke my face,” he laughs as he helps me up, and I cringe at the pain in my side.

  “Yeah, well, I’m sure you broke my rib.”

  He nods. “You’re fast. No wonder Oceanus always bitches when you guys are done.”

  I don’t know why that makes me grin, but it does. “Told ya I can take care of myself.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you tell everyone that,” he says, sucking in a breath and swallowing hard. “Wanna get lunch?”

  I run my hand down my face as I shake it no. “I’m gonna go have lunch with the boys. You’re welcome to join.”

/>   When I look over at him, he scoffs. “I’m good, thank you.” Running his hands through his hair, he looks back over at me. It’s almost like he’s nervous. “Are you sure? I feel I’m better company than them.”

  I smile. “That’s debatable, but yeah, Father hasn’t let me down all week. I want to visit.”

  He turns his gaze away as I start for the door. He falls into step with me, and I feel like he wants to say more. Glancing over at him, I raise my eyebrows. “What’s wrong? I kicked your ass too hard?”

  He laughs as he slowly shakes his head. “No, that’s not it, believe me. I’m unsure if I should let you go down there.”

  I make a face, confused and annoyed. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, you can’t escape anywhere, and there is nothing down there but those stinky guys. But I wonder if I’ll get in trouble. Maybe I should call Father.”

  Before I can tell him no, though, he’s already dialing on his phone. Shaking my head, I let out a frustrated breath as Cyrus brings his phone to his ear. I wait, knowing my father will say no. Then I’ll be in my room, trying to figure out another way. Which is what I’ve been doing for the last four days, and I haven’t come up with anything.

  Very annoying.

  “Shit, he isn’t answering. Maybe you should wait?” he suggests, and I roll my eyes.

  “I’m fine.”

  “But I don’t want to get shit.”

  “Then don’t tell anyone,” I say with a shrug, walking ahead of him. “Easier to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission.”

  “You would know all about that,” he laughs, and I smile as I head up the stairs with a little more pep than needed. I quickly shower and change, and then I grab my bag before heading downstairs to the kitchen. I have been collecting snacks, like I usually do, but I grab a bit more and then some lunch for the guys and me to add to the food I packed before. Not having anyone in the house, minus the staff, I’m able to grab more. Cyrus doesn’t say anything as I stuff my bag, a grin on my face.

  “You spoil them, sister. They are prisoners.”

  I wave him off. “Never. They don’t get this all the time. Only once a week.” He rolls his eyes, going back to his phone, and I smile. “Just play on your phone, Cyrus.”

  He laughs as I push the door open with my back, an apple in my mouth. “I’ll check on you in a few.”

  “I know,” I say around the apple as I head through the living room and to the back of the house where the door for the bastille is. As I reach for the hatch, I’m surprised at the nervousness that settles in my stomach. A part of me still believes Killian is down there. He has to be—he’s nowhere else. But Cyrus was so sure, and would he really let me go if Killian could be there? I’m unsure, and before my brother can stop me, I pull the hatch up and open, the loud creaking of the door filling the room as it comes crashing down with a thud.

  Moving the strap of my bag over my chest so it doesn’t move, I start down the ladder, my heart picking up in speed with each step I take down. What is wrong with me? I don’t understand my feelings; something has my heart going crazy and my gut twisting with the unknown.

  Weird.

  When my feet hit the ground, I look up and then around me as the cool air hits my cheeks. Checking my surroundings, I make a face. For some reason, I feel like someone is watching me, and I almost think it’s Cyrus. I wait for any sign of him above me, but it never comes. Letting out a long breath, I turn, going down the hall to where the boys are. Mr. Grun sees me first, his eyes lighting up as he stands.

  “My darling Rebekah, what are you doing down here?”

  Why would he ask that? Hm. When I look to Micha and Reggia, who are both staring at me with wide eyes, I know I’m not supposed to be down here. Which leads me to think Killian is down here.

  But where? Trying not to seem eager to search, I smile and say, “Came to see my boys.”

  Opening my bag, I start to unload a plethora of food for Mr. Grun, laying it on his cell floor, and he grins widely at me. “Oh, Rebekah, you’re too good to us.”

  “I haven’t been down in a while,” I say, going to Reggia and then Micha, doing the same for both of them. Leaving my lunch in the bag, I sit down and bring my legs up to my chest as they start to eat hastily. It breaks my heart seeing them all like this. I hate how they are treated, and if I could, I’d break them out, but that’s out of my control.

  As so much of my life is.

  Clearing my throat free of the emotion that is clogging it, I say, “How’ve things been? Did JJ bring down those snacks the other day?”

  Reggia scoffs. “No one has come.”

  I glare as I shake my head. “I’m sorry.”

  “Not your fault,” Mr. Grun says. “Things are hazardous right now.”

  My brow rises; I figure I need to play dumb to get the answers I need. “How do you mean?”

  Reggia and Micha look back at him and then down to their food as he struggles with his words. “Um, no meaning at all,” he says quickly before stuffing a whole piece of bread in his mouth.

  Reggia laughs, shaking his head as he takes a bite of his apple. “Rebekah, don’t act like you don’t know what’s going on.”

  I look to him, a grin playing on my lips. “I’m not, I’m just curious as to how you guys know about it.”

  His grin reaches his eyes, and for a second, I’m stunned. His brown eyes are so striking, and I wonder why he did what he did. Why couldn’t he just be true to the clan, to my family? We had been such good friends in school. He was such a good guy, but that guy is gone. Now I’m left with one of the prisoners of the Patchwork. “We know that because the guy tried to kidnap you, he was taken to the back of this godawful place.”

  “Reggia!” Mr. Grun complains as Micha shakes his head, eating his food in silence.

  “Hey, no one offered me five years off my sentence! They offered me nothing. I can tell her anything,” Reggia snaps at them, and my head tilts to the side.

  “So he’s down here?”

  Reggia nods. “Yup, down that way, to the left. I think in the old isolation room.”

  My heart speeds up, my palms getting clammy as I look back to him. “Still?”

  “Yeah. Where would he have gone? They threw him in his cell and haven’t been back since.”

  Standing slowly, I look over at them and then back toward where Reggia pointed. When I’m fully erect, Mr. Grun’s voice fills the room. “Rebekah, maybe you should stay away, do as your father wishes.”

  I scoff. “When do I ever do what he wishes?”

  Turning my back to them, I grab my bag and head to where Reggia pointed. As my feet move along the cold, wet ground, I hear nothing, no sounds of anyone else being down here, and that concerns me. It’s dark, almost black in the halls, and water is dripping from the ceiling in a very eerie way. Was Reggia wrong? Had Killian been moved without anyone knowing? Going down each hallway, I can’t find him, but I do find myself right under the entrance, looking up just as Cyrus looks down.

  Startled, I gasp as he asks, “What are you doing?”

  “I figured you were coming to check on me,” I say, thinking quickly.

  He nods. “Yeah, I was going to come down.”

  With my heart in my throat, I nod. “I mean, you can. I’ll be down for another half hour, probably.”

  “Okay, I’ll wait here,” he says, and then his head disappears, and I hear him lower himself down to the floor. I can see the top of his feet showing slightly as my heart pounds in my chest. Well, that was pure luck right there. Letting out a shaky breath, I start down a hall I haven’t been down yet. Still nothing, and I’m starting to get irritated. I don’t think he’s down here, but just as I’m about to turn around to go back, I notice a door.

  A closed door.

  Reggia did say an isolation room.

  My brows draw in as I go toward it. It’s old and wooden, and I hadn’t even known there were actual doors down here. I thought there were only cells. For a spli
t second, I’m scared of what could be on the other side of that door. Thankfully, that feeling doesn’t last long, and I push the door open, entering into the complete darkness. Fumbling, I press my hands to the wall, looking for a light switch. When I realize what I’m doing, I feel dumb.

  There is no electricity down here.

  Rolling my eyes, I grab my phone out of my pocket and turn on the flashlight to look at the wall. When I find a lantern, I reach into my bag for the lighter I keep in there for when I come down here. Sometimes the candles burn out, and I replenish them so the guys don’t have to live in the dark. When I light the wick, an amber glow fills the area around me. I turn slowly and head down the hall. Through the small, warm light, I see bars to a cell.

  I take a step toward the cell, and my breath catches when I see a dark mass start to move. Hesitating, I wait for a sound, anything, but nothing comes. As I take another step, my heart is in my throat, beating so damn hard, it’s rattling my eardrums. Holding my breath, I take another step just as fingers appear, wrapping around the bars slowly.

  Freezing in place, my eyes widen as the warm glow of the lantern illuminates the dark mass.

  No.

  No, it can’t be.

  Gasping, my body goes cold because the man standing in front of me isn’t Killian, but a ghost. Yet, he seems so solid, so real, but positively not Killian. Gone is the pale flesh, replaced by olive skin that is glistening with blood and sweat. His eyes are still dark but a different shape, rounder and heavy-lidded. His lips, so beautiful before, are even fuller now. His chest is wide, cut to hell and bruised, but thick, full of muscles. A tattoo along his ribs catches my attention only for a second before he moves to his full height, towering over me as he leans against the cell wall. He’s brawny, more so than before, and I almost don’t believe he is the man I’m looking for. Because the man in front of me, I know.

  But I know him to be dead.

  Oblivious to my complete and utter disbelief, his lips curve, and the slow tenor of his voice runs down my spine as he says, “Hiya, princess, figured you’d come to see me.”