Abel: A Sabine Valley Novel

by Robert, Katee

  Then again, positioning Juniper to take the throne would be a brilliant way to undermine the Mystics and set them up for a hostile takeover from one of the other two factions. It’s ruthless in the extreme and required playing the long game, but I wouldn’t put anything past Abel at this point.

  Fallon clenches her jaw, and her eyes flare. “She wouldn’t dare.”

  “She would, and you know it. She’s probably already started.” I turn to Monroe. “Your mother followed in the Amazon tradition of teaching her oldest two daughters to rule so that if anything happened to you, Thea will be able to step in and your people will be fine.”

  Monroe loses her smile. “I’m not dead; she’s the spare for a reason.”

  “You might as well be dead, Monroe. If you stay here for the next year without reasserting your position, you might not have a position to come back to.” I sit back. “Look, call me a lap dog if you want, but the truth is that I want what’s best for my faction. That means that I will do whatever it takes to smooth the way as long as the Paines don’t fuck with our bottom line. That also means that I have no interest in war. Both of your factions are too strong to take on without bleeding Sabine Valley dry—at the moment.” I pause meaningfully. “In a year? That might be a different story.”

  “Bitch,” Monroe snarls.

  “If you want to insult me, you’re going to have to try harder.”

  Monroe shakes her head slowly. “Okay, fine, you have us over a barrel. What do you want?”

  “Speak for yourself.” Fallon’s tone could freeze the entire room several times over. “But I will listen to your proposal.”

  This is going better than expected. I can only open the door. It’s going to be up to the Paines to enforce it. “We can negotiate you returning to your factions on a limited basis to maintain your power and continue whatever projects you have going right now—with some conditions.” I tick them off on my fingers. “You will not transport anything to or from this faction. Your family members who are Brides will remain behind to ensure good behavior. And you will give your word that you will uphold the Bridal agreement, which means doing nothing to harm, directly or indirectly, the Paine brothers or the Raider faction.”

  “You ask too much.”

  Monroe laughs. “Get that stick out of your ass, Fallon.” She pushes to her feet and smooths her hands down her body. “I agree, on one condition.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Her grin is razor sharp. “We limit the definition of harm as physical and financial when it comes to Broderick Paine. I won’t bloody him, but I’m going to spend the next year tormenting the fuck out of him.”

  I open my mouth to say no but change my mind halfway through. She’s going to do it anyway. If I give her this concession, then there’s a decent chance Monroe will keep her word, and it will negate the risk of larger consequences. I’ve only seen Broderick in passing, but if he’s even halfway as capable as Abel, he can handle whatever Monroe throws at him. If he’s not? Well, that’s a him problem, not a faction problem. “Deal.”

  “Perfect.” She flips her hair off her shoulder. “Are we done here?”

  “That was about it.”

  “Good.” She turns and walks out of the room, her hips swaying dangerously. No doubt off to start her torment. Or, more likely, continue it.

  I focus on Fallon. “And your answer?”

  Her face is completely locked down. “You really only care about this faction, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” The word feels like a lie on my tongue, but I ignore the sensation. The faction is my end all, be all. Whatever confusing feelings I’m housing for Abel and Eli have nothing to do with that.

  She nods slowly. “I’ll take this devil’s bargain as well.” She rises to her feet, a human-shaped pillar of ice. “Just know that if this is some ploy to get the Mystics’ secrets, it will be for nothing.”

  That remains to be seen. But I’m reasonably sure that neither Monroe nor Fallon will do anything to endanger their family within this house. I nod, holding her gaze. “I’ll take that into consideration.” I rise as well. “It will take some time to get the details finalized, but we should be able to put this into motion next week.”

  “Good.”

  I wait for her to leave before I sink back onto the chair and exhale slowly. That went better than expected. It’s still going to be a complicated situation to maneuver through, but as long as we can keep both Fallon and Monroe on leashes, I suspect the rest of the Brides will follow suit.

  I pour myself another cup of tea. Despite my best efforts, my mind goes back to Abel and Eli. I don’t know if either of them will listen to me long enough to sit down and have a conversation with each other. It’s impossible to say if that will help or hurt things, but the stark truth is that we can’t go on like this. If we’re too busy tearing into each other, we’re not going to be able to face any threat that arises.

  No matter what Eli thinks of the Paines being back, even he has to admit that they’re likely preferable to us losing the faction altogether. At least as Abel’s Brides we have a chance to influence the situation.

  Not to mention… Abel isn’t what I expected at all. He’s brutal and harsh, but there are threads of kindness and caring that appear at the most unexpected times. He might seem very similar to his father on the surface, but the core is different.

  That makes what happened the night of the coup all that much more tragic, but Eli did what he had to. I believe that even if I stopped believing in us.

  Except…

  Have I stopped believing in us? I don’t know. Things were complicated before Lammas, and the last few days haven’t uncomplicated them. I thought my love for Eli had turned to hate, but last night…

  I shake my head and lift my tea cup to take a sip. After all this time and all my certainty, it seems foolish in the extreme to let an outstanding night of sex change how I feel. But did it really change things? Or did it bring what was already there to light?

  I don’t have answers. All I have are more questions.

  27

  Abel

  “Do you believe him?”

  I stare at the beer bottle dangling from my fingers. I don’t drink much these days, not when any blurring of the senses can be the difference between survival and death, but today just flat-out called for a beer. “I don’t know.”

  I’ve spent hours going through the compound with Broderick to oversee the changes and ensure all the security features are up and running. Tomorrow we’ll officially get our answer from Old Town, but from Finnegan’s spy tech, we already know what they’ll say.

  They won’t fight us.

  That public support will go a long way to smoothing the transition of power, and having Eli and Harlow publicly at my side will go even farther. I should be feeling victorious right now, should already be considering what changes I want to implement.

  Instead, all I can think about is the past.

  Broderick’s the only one of my brothers I can talk to about this. He’s the most level-headed of us, the one who likes to weigh all the facts before making a decision, the steady one that keeps all seven of us grounded. It’s why I gave Monroe to him; if anyone can handle her dangerous recklessness, it’s him. I have no right to be leaning on him now, but fuck if I can get my thoughts in order.

  He pops the cap off his beer bottle and sinks onto the chair next to the desk. We’ve co-opted Eli’s study for our own, but really it’s Broderick’s now. I’ve never been comfortable being idle for long, and being locked in a room with a shit ton of paperwork is my idea of hell. Another way that we’re fundamentally different.

  Finally, he says, “That’s one thing about that night that never sat well with me. Or at least our version of events. No matter what else Eli is, he was your friend.”

  “You know as well as I do that friendship doesn’t mean shit when it comes to power.”

  Broderick sighs. “Yeah, I know. I just think that it’s entirely possible th
at he’s telling the truth. It seems like some roundabout shit that Eli would do.”

  That’s the crux of it. Killing my father so I wouldn’t have to is exactly something the Eli I knew would have done. Some high-handed bullshit designed to save me from unnecessary pain. “It doesn’t change the end results.”

  “No. It doesn’t.” Broderick leans forward and looks at me. Where some of our brothers take after our mother’s red hair and freckles, Broderick and I are purely our father’s sons. Sometimes I wonder if looking at me bothers him the same way sometimes I see the ghost of our father’s face in one of his expressions. He frowns. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” It seems to be the answer of the day. No matter how confidently I projected to Eli, the truth is that this isn’t playing out at all like I expected. I didn’t anticipate Harlow, and I sure as fuck didn’t anticipate feeling anything but loathing for Eli. “If I were smart, I’d kill him now.” The words ring hollow.

  “You can’t. Maybe you could have before you made him a Bride, but if any harm comes to any of the Brides, we’ll have the entire city howling for our blood.”

  I give a mirthless smile. “They’re already howling for our blood.”

  “Harming one of the Brides will give them the ammunition to strike without worrying about the consequences.”

  “I know.” I drag my hand over my face. The truth is that I don’t want Eli dead. I did when I came back to Sabine Valley, but that desire died within the first twenty-four hours. No matter how angry, how hurt, how betrayed I felt, the truth is that this man was my best friend for more than two-thirds of my life. My father might have been cold enough to strike him down without hesitation, but apparently I retain enough of my soul that it’s an impossible ask.

  Maybe that makes me weak. I don’t know anymore.

  Eli isn’t the only one I have to worry about, though. “Harlow wants us to figure it out.”

  “Harlow, huh?” Broderick shakes his head. “She could be playing you.”

  “She could be,” I agree. “But I don’t think so. She’s not great at lying, and her priorities are the Raider faction above all others. She’s an asset, and she could be one hell of a leader if she had a long enough leash.”

  “You’ve let her negotiate with the Brides on your behalf.” His tone is careful, but he can’t hide the tension there. Not from me.

  I look at him. “Yeah. You got a problem with that?”

  “Only that Monroe came back to the rooms happy as a pig in shit earlier today, and that can only mean she’s about to unleash some chaos to make my life harder.” He takes a pull from his beer. “She’s still spending a lot of time with Shiloh.”

  Ah. That’s one complication I should have seen coming. I knew Broderick held a flame for Shiloh, even if he never made a move to morph their friendship into something else. Giving him a Bride was destined to fuck with that, but I didn’t expect Monroe to pick up on that unrequited situation so quickly—or to use it as a pressure point against Broderick. “Like I said the other day, there’s an easy enough fix for that.”

  “No, there isn’t. Shiloh is my friend, and even if I wanted to do something about it, I have a Bride now.”

  “A Bride who’s an enemy. All that you had to do was consummate the handfasting Lammas night. You never have to touch Monroe again.”

  “I won’t.” There’s something there, something haunted in those two words.

  What the fuck happened between him and Monroe on Lammas night?

  I can’t ask. He won’t thank me for prying, and if it’s not something fixable, it will just rip open a barely closed wound. Still… “You have shit handled?”

  “Yeah.” Broderick gives a steady smile that doesn’t fool me for a second. “Don’t have a choice, do I?”

  “It’s only a year.”

  “Only a year,” he repeats. He takes another pull from the bottle, a longer one. “So the only question is what you’re going to do about Eli. Rekindle the friendship, or spend the next year tormenting the fuck out of him?”

  When he puts it like that, it turns out I’ve already made my choice. I don’t know if I can trust Eli again, but sometime in the last few days, I’ve lost my desire to see his head on a platter. “I’ll figure it out. The one person who most deserves to suffer is Deacon Walsh, and that fucker is already dead.”

  “Not only him.” Broderick’s blue eyes are stark. “Both Aisling and Ciar have blood on their hands because of that fire. Maybe Eli knew about it, maybe he didn’t, but we know those two did. The drugs that put everyone to sleep came from the Mystics, and the Amazons set the fire. We know that as truth.”

  “I know.” I drain my bottle and set it on the desk with a clink. “First we get this faction in order. Then we start looking to their borders. We have the year to prepare, to put our plans in motion. No matter how things fall out with Eli, we won’t be turned from this. I promise.”

  “Good.” He pushes to his feet and sets his bottle next to mine. “Honestly, if you can bring Eli around to our side, it would simplify matters. The less time it takes to bring our faction to order, the faster we can move on to the next part of the plan.” Broderick turns and walks out of the office without looking back.

  He’s been the steady one for eight long years, so I don’t know why it surprises me so much to see the hairline fractures in his control. I’ll have to keep an eye on him. The pressure he’s under is already astronomical—and that’s without Monroe adding gasoline to the situation and gleefully lighting a match.

  A knock sounds before I can leave the room. I grab the bottles and toss them into the trash under the desk. “Come in.”

  Harlow slips through the door. She gives a little smile when she sees me, and fuck if that doesn’t brighten up my whole day. I hold out a hand. “Come here.”

  She walks into my arms without hesitation and, yeah, I like this a whole hell of a lot, too. I kiss her, and she goes soft against me for a long moment before she steps back. “I know this might be hard to believe, but I didn’t come here for a quickie on your desk.”

  “Sweetheart, you wound me. There would be nothing quick about it.”

  She shakes her head, that little smile still pulling at the edges of her lips. “Did you talk to Eli?”

  “First I want to hear about how things went with Fallon and Monroe.”

  She gives me a long look. “I didn’t peg you for a man who avoids hard topics.”

  “Play your cards right and you can just flat-out peg me.”

  She blinks. “You have yourself a deal.”

  I motion for her to sit. “Tell me how the meeting went.”

  “Fine.” Harlow takes the seat Broderick had earlier and gives me a quick rundown. It’s about what I expected. Having multiple members of the family is the only way that will ensure anything resembling good behavior. The Amazons and Mystics might have little in the way of honor when it comes to dealing with us, but they won’t fuck over their own. I eye Harlow once she finishes. “You threw Broderick under the bus.”

  “Correction: I assumed Broderick was more than capable of dealing with anything Monroe brings to the plate and negotiated accordingly.”

  She has me there. Before my conversation with my brother, I wouldn’t have doubted that, but there’s a lot about this situation that I didn’t anticipate. “We’ll figure it out as we go.”

  Harlow studies me for a moment. “I’m assuming that the required escort will be planting more of those fancy listening devices like the ones you used with Old Town.”

  I allow myself a satisfied grin. “That would be telling.”

  “They’re paranoid enough to sweep the place after your group leaves every day.”

  I shrug. “At first. But human nature is always to do as little as possible, and familiarity breeds even more laziness. After a few weeks, they won’t be as diligent. Our people will just be another normal occurrence in the other territories.” I should leave it there, but Harlow’s operated
in good faith to this point. “And where do you think Fallon and Monroe are going to get the clothes they wear to all those meetings?”

  Surprise and appreciation flare in her dark eyes. “You’re going to bug their clothes.”

  “Yes.” Not a foolproof plan on its own, but cast the net wide enough and we’ll pull something useful. We have a year to play this game, and once our faction is stabilized, we can afford to use up every bit of that time.

  “Clever.” She sits back and crosses one long leg over the other. “Now, about that conversation…”

  I bite back a sigh. I could kiss her and let sex distract us, but Harlow’s too stubborn to let this go, and we’ll just be having an identical conversation when we finally surface from the orgasms. “Eli and I talked.”

  She’s back to watching my expression closely. “He never would have hurt you or your brothers.”

  “No, he just facilitated my father getting his throat slit.”

  She raises her eyebrows. “Do you know what it was like living in the faction under your father? I’m not talking Old Town or those in his immediate circle. I’m talking about the rest of us.”

  Guilt bites at me, but I shove it down. “Yeah, I know. I would have moved on him within the year. I was just getting things into place.” And, if Eli is to be believed, he moved first so I wouldn’t have to.

  The fucked up thing is that I do believe him.

  I just don’t know if it changes anything.

  “Eli’s father was just as much a monster as yours,” she says quietly. “Things didn’t get better right away, but once he died and Eli took over… He’s done a lot to help the people who most need it. Not just funneling resources their way and enforcing the laws. He’s set up programs and funding and all sorts of things.”