by T. Aleo
“Well, my trip was nice, thanks for asking. I don’t know what it is about Vegas feeding, but my goodness, it’s so good. So tender. Yum.”
I gag, leaning against the bar. “Ew.”
“Shh, you,” she laughs as she moves her long hair out of her eye. “You have no clue what it’s like to sink your teeth into a guy who is tripping off Molly.”
I wince. “I’m sure it’s very psychedelic.”
She grins. “Exactly. I had a blast, not that you asked.”
“I’m sorry. Things have been crazy.”
“I know, just giving you a hard time,” she says, crossing her hands over her chest as she looks out across the bar. “So, where is your lover boy? Shouldn’t he be here by now?”
I clam up. My heart is pounding more than before as I meet her quizzical gaze. “I don’t know.”
“So you haven’t heard from him?”
“Nope, haven’t seen him in a couple days. Maybe he quit?”
I hate lying, I hate it so much, but I have no other choice. Glancing back at her, praying she can’t tell I’m lying, I see her face start to change to frustration as she throws her hands up, her brow furrowing with annoyance.
“Shit. I was hoping you would know ’cause he wasn’t here last night either, and I need to talk to him.”
“About?” I croak out. Glancing over at me, she looks down at her fingers and shrugs. Her whole demeanor has changed, almost like she’s nervous. Looking back to where Cyrus and Mabel are sitting and getting acquainted, she bites into her lips before looking back at me.
She’s hesitant, I can tell, so I step closer, lowering my voice. “He isn’t listening,” I assure her and she nods.
Still, she watches him as she whispers, “I was hoping what I heard wasn’t true. For your sake.”
My heart jumps into my throat, my palms start to itch, and my breathing is completely out of whack. What did she hear? Does everyone know? “My sake?”
She nods as she clears her throat. “Rumor is, someone was sent in to kill you, and everyone is speculating it’s Killian because now he’s nowhere to be found.”
My eyes widen. So everyone does know. “Why would they think it was him?”
“I don’t know, but I heard about it from my friend when I was in Vegas. So I called my aunt, and she proceeded to act like I was two seconds from the loony bin. She told me she didn’t know any Killian.”
“What?” I gasp. I had forgotten about her aunt and his ties to her. What had Ryland done? “But I thought you spoke with her when he arrived.”
“Yes, I did! I swear it’s witchcraft!” she announces, her voice going up an octave, but then it drops again. Witchcraft? How? Does he have links there too? Shit, who is he now?
Leaning in close and glancing around, she whispers, “I don’t know what hoodoo-voodoo he put on my aunt, but she doesn’t remember anything. So I planned to confront him when I got here, but he isn’t here, and now I’m superworried. Is he on the loose? Or did your family get him? Have you heard anything?”
My heart is slamming against my ribs, and I hate that I don’t fully trust her. Is she asking this out of concern for me, or for answers? How does she know all this? Shit, she is my closest friend, and I don’t trust her. “I don’t know. One minute he was here, next he was gone. I haven’t heard anything.”
When her eyes soften and fill with concern, I feel like shit. “Did he try to hurt you?”
Breathless, I shake my head quickly. “No, not at all.”
“Oh, thank God. So you don’t think he was taken by your family?”
“I honestly have no clue. I haven’t heard anything.”
“So weird, it’s like he up and left,” she says in bewilderment, and all I can do is nod.
Unable to stand there with the guilt and the lies eating me alive, I turn, heading to the sink to clean some dishes just as she says, “Well, let’s hope he’s just dead. ’Cause the other rumor is it was some shifter, which means he could be anyone. And of course, mutiny between the families would break out, and no one has time for that.”
Swallowing hard, I nod. “I know.”
“Well, I guess that’s why there’s extra security and your family is scouting the clans. Can’t be too safe.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I want to tell her the truth. Make up for the fact I feel weird about trusting her, but I know I can’t. What if she tells someone else and my father finds out? I have to keep this under wraps. I can’t tell anyone.
Not a soul.
I feel lost. Unsure what to do. This isn’t me. I don’t like to lie to the people I care about. I find myself doing that at every turn for him. Ryland. To protect him. Is that wrong? I don’t know; I almost feel as if I don’t know anything anymore. All I do know is I have to save him, but I have no clue how.
But I will.
I won’t let him die again.
Or whatever my father has planned.
I must get to the bottom of this. I’ve got to talk to him and figure this out. I just know Ryland wouldn’t hurt me. He cared for me once, and he just isn’t that person. As soon as I figure out what’s going on, I’ll talk to my father. Surely, he’ll understand and let Ryland go. He has to.
Right?
Before I can try to accept that he more than likely won’t, I glance up, and my blood runs cold. I thought she’d never step foot back into the Clandestine, especially after her talk with Oceanus, but there she is. Waltzing in like she owns the place.
Christiana.
“What the hell is she doing here?” I hear Alena ask as Christiana walks slowly toward the bar. She looks so vicious, her very tight red dress hugging her every curve, her eyes dark, and her inky black hair falling down her shoulders. She looks ready to kill, and I wonder if she’s the one who sent Ryland to get me. If Frank Kelley sent Ryland away, why would he welcome him back with open arms and send him to kill me? I mean, in a way, it’s smart. No one would suspect him since he is supposed to be dead, but if Frank could send him away and fake his death for not being his, would he let him come back? Something feels off there, and I’m sure it’s because Christiana is behind it all.
Had it been Christiana the other night looking for Ryland as a rogue vampire?
Crossing my arms over my chest, I raise my chin as she sits down. “Pinot Grigio, Rebekah, please. What a day,” she says, leaning her arms onto the bar, but I don’t move. My body is taut, my eyes are narrow, and while I wish my heart weren’t beating so hard, I’ve come to accept it.
“Why are you here?”
Her brow rises. “To drink, of course. Why else?”
“You can get a drink lots of places other than here. So, what is your game plan?” I ask, trying to act like I’m not shaking in my boots. I don’t know why she freaks me out, but she does. I can easily take her, but I wouldn’t put it past her to have someone watching nearby, armed with a gun to kill me.
She laughs, her eyes closing as her head falls back. Her eyes narrow when she looks back at me. “My dear, sweet Rebekah, whatever do you mean? Game plan? Please. Haven’t you heard? Our families are on good terms.”
“For now,” I bite out. I see Cyrus stand, but I hold up my hand. “Until one of you backstabs us.”
Her eyes cut to slits. “Think so lowly of us?”
“Yes,” I say it so simply, so quickly that she jerks back, almost like I hit her.
“Goodness me, how rude,” she says with a soft laugh, her eyes opening more as she holds my gaze. She doesn’t like me, and a part of me thinks she never did. That’s fine, I don’t care, but I will not seem weak in front of her. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m not here to see you.”
I hold her gaze. “Then why are you here?”
“For a drink and to see that scrumptious barkeep, Killian. He told me to meet him here.”
My gaze narrows even more. “Did he now?”
“Yup, just a few hours ago. Have you seen him?”
I have never wanted to kill someone so muc
h in my life. She did send him. She had to have. Or it was the whole family. Either way, how dare they! How could they put him in harm’s way? My family is known for their security. How else would I still be alive three years after my immortality was discovered not to be intact? We are trained to kill and protect what is ours; no one can infiltrate that. Though some have tried, no one has ever succeeded, which is why my father is so old and we are who we are.
Invincible.
But the Kelleys, they are scum, the lowest on the food chain, and while I had barely any respect for them before, I hate them now.
They sent Ryland on a suicide mission!
“He quit.”
Her eyes darken as she leans toward me, brushing her dark hair out of her eyes. “Excuse me?”
“He quit,” I repeat, my body tensing, ready for the fight. “I haven’t seen him.”
Her head falls to the side. “I could accuse you of lying, Rebekah von Stein.”
“And I could rip your head off, Christiana, but I’m sure neither of us would dare upset our fathers, would we?” I ask, my gaze menacing.
She’s surprised by my admission, but I don’t move. I’m stone-still, watching her, ready for anything she can throw at me. I hate her. I hate her family. I may not know the whole story with Ryland, but I know enough to want them all dead.
“Now please excuse yourself from my bar.”
Clearing her throat, she shakes her head as she slowly stands. “My, my, my, training for that leadership position, aren’t we? You do know you’ll have to wait for your three brothers to die before that spot is yours, yes? And with them being immortal and all, that might be an issue. You might have to kill them,” she whispers the last part, and my eyes darken.
“I would never put someone I love in harm’s way. I’m not a Kelley.”
Her eyes narrow, and I wonder if she caught what I was trying to say. “No, no, you’re not.”
I don’t say anything; I just watch her. I’ve said my piece. It’s time for her to go.
She shakes her head ruefully. “I guess I shall go, then.”
“Good,” I say, showcasing my pathetic need to have the last word.
But as her gaze meets mine, her eyes send a message that is loud and clear.
She knows we have him.
I don’t care, though. She doesn’t scare me. As she gets up, sending looks to Alena and then Cyrus, she rolls her eyes and heads for the exit, her body swaying from side to side. A man would be making a deal with the devil to be with her. She’s terrifying, to say the least, but it doesn’t even come close to the thought of what Ryland may have to say once I get down there.
And that has me petrified.
“I wonder what she wanted.”
Shrugging, I clear my throat as we climb the stairs toward my room. The rest of the night was uneventful, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t on high alert the whole time. I don’t know why, but I felt like that wasn’t the last of Christiana I would see during my shift. To my utter dismay, it was. Unfortunately, I would have really liked to smash her face into the bar.
“She wanted to speak to Killian.”
Cyrus stops then, looking over at me, which makes me stop. “She said that?”
I nod, the hair on my arms standing to attention at his alarming gaze. “Yeah, she said he had told her to meet him there.”
He looks away, shaking his head. “I wonder why? I know he was a shifter, but what was his connection to her? Did she send him and not her father?”
I shrug, unable to speak. While I assume the same thing he does, I feel if I say so, I’ll appear too emotional, that I’ll reveal I may know more than I should. “I don’t know. But really, it doesn’t matter.”
Cyrus nods as we start to walk once more. “Yeah, true. Still, though, I’ll have to call Father and tell him.”
My first instinct is to scream “No.” If he does that, Father might come back early and truly kill Ryland so that the Kelleys don’t have anything to come looking for. I need time. I need to figure everything out. Get a plan. “Just wait,” I say, trying to seem indifferent. “No reason to bother him with this now. He’s working, and plus, what are they going to do? Send someone in? For what? There is no one here.”
I say that last line to see if I can catch him in a lie, but when Cyrus nods in agreement, I know he knows nothing. “True. Yeah, I got things to do tonight anyway.”
I shoot him a suggestive grin. “Oh, yeah?”
He laughs, pushing into me. “Shut up. She’s nice.”
“She is,” I agree as I arrive at my door. Reaching for the knob, I look over at him. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
He gives me a look. “Please don’t go into details on what you wouldn’t do.”
I giggle as I turn the knob, pushing my door open. “Fine. Night.”
As I take a step, almost fully into my room, he stops me. “Rebekah.”
“Yeah?” I ask, looking over at him, confused. Why isn’t he running to get laid?
“I’m proud of you. You handled Christiana perfectly. Like a leader,” he says slowly as his eyes meet mine.
A grin spreads across my lips as I stand taller. “Why, thank you.”
“When you say we all treat you like a baby, I usually ignore you. But I’m starting to agree with you. You don’t need someone up your ass twenty-four seven, and you’ve proved that the last couple days.”
Pleased with what he’s just said, I nod. “I agree, but it doesn’t matter what we think.”
“True, but hopefully that changes soon.”
While I’m not even optimistic at all, I smile. “I hope.”
He grins and points to me. “That being said, you’re going to bed, right? Like, I can go try to get some ass and not worry about you escaping and running away to faraway lands?”
I giggle at that. “Yes, Cyrus, where the hell would I go?”
He shrugs. “True. All right, night, sister.”
“Night,” I say, still laughing as I shut the door.
Once it’s shut, though, I stop laughing and press my ear to the door. I hear him whistling, and I wait. When I don’t hear him anymore, I take in a deep breath and rush to change, needing to be free of my work clothes. While I want to wear my gym shorts and a tee, I refuse to let Ryland see my legs. I slide on a pair of sweats instead, but when I look in the mirror, I gag. I don’t want him seeing me like this. Like a bum.
Crap.
Kicking off my sweats, I put on a pair of leggings, the cuts and raised scars of my legs on full display. I just look muscular and I’m okay with that, better than Ryland seeing the coarse hair that is covering my legs like mad right now. Reaching for my bag, I stuff in some of my snacks from my nightstand and wonder if I should run by the kitchen. But what if Cyrus is there? No. I should just go straight to the bastille. I don’t have time for detours if I want time with Ryland. Putting my bag on my back, I all but run to my door before opening it slowly and peeking out.
No one is there.
Thank God.
Shutting it behind me, I quickly rush down the stairs, cautious for any signs of anyone. While I’ve come up with every excuse imaginable, I don’t want to be caught. I want to get down there, I want to see Ryland, and I want to find out what the hell is going on. The thought of seeing him again has my legs moving faster, my heart pounding and sweat dripping down my neck. I need to see him. Just to make sure I didn’t imagine what I saw.
When I reach the bottom of the stairs, I think I’m in the clear to the bastille, but then I see one of our guards. Crap. I knew it wasn’t going to be this easy. Swallowing hard, I start toward the kitchen, which is the long way around to the bastille, but I have no choice. I plant a grin on my face, but I quickly mask it, pressing my lips together. I never smile much, so I don’t want to seem too suspect. As I walk past him, as if I’m supposed to be down here and all is well, I feel his eyes on me. He’s a werewolf and has been working for my family for a long time, but I can’t remember his n
ame to save my life. Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything, just watches me. I almost think I’m home free…that is, until his voice stops me.
“Ms. Rebekah, where are you going?”
I pause, glancing back at him, flashing him a big grin. Oh no, is that too big? Going for a smaller smile, I shrug. “Oh, just getting some food.”
His eyes scrutinize me, and I know he knows I’m lying. “Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?”
I laugh to keep from freaking the hell out, but when his eyes widen, I snap my mouth shut. “Yeah, but I’m hungry, so I’m going to go to the kitchen.”
His eyes narrow, and shit, I’m caught. “Are you high, Ms. Rebekah?”
“Yes!” I say, pointing at him, and then I tuck my hands behind my back.
God, I’m an idiot.
“And boy, do I have the munchies. As you were, good sir.”
Turning quickly, I rush away. For some reason, he doesn’t follow, but I hear him chuckle as I disappear down the hall. Well, that went well. Now he thinks I’m a stoner, which will probably get back to my father. Awesome. Better that than him finding out I’m sneaking down to see a prisoner, I guess.
As I turn to enter the kitchen, I hear talking.
Cyrus.
And Mabel.
Shit.
Pressing my body to the wall, I clench my fists and take in a deep breath as Mabel says, “Wanna go back to my place?”
I’ve never heard the noise that leaves my brother’s lips. It’s all raspy and rough as he says, “I wish, but I gotta stay home with my sister.”
“Oh, isn’t she asleep?”
“Yeah, but I gotta stay here.”
When I hear silence, I’m confused. Crouching down, I peek around the doorway to find them staring at each other. Reaching out, Cyrus tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “You’re very pretty.”
Mabel blushes before covering his hand with hers. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” His shoulders are taut, his body language revealing an interest in her that’s off the charts. Leaning toward her, he whispers something, and she giggles before nodding, her teeth sinking into her lips.