Vote Then Read: Volume I

by Carly Phillips

  “Yes, but there’s no way she’s in on it. And Owen…” She shook her head. “No. We’re… we were close friends. He cared about me. I’m sure of it. He’d never hurt me.”

  “Perhaps Jonathan became aware of you through the random housing assignment and tasked Owen to get to know you better,” Aidan suggested. “I wonder if Jonathan requested Owen to do something in regard to you that he refused.”

  “Such as administer the Nizari poison?” Lucian said, scratching his jaw. “Actually, that provides ample motive. If Owen suspected Stas of being a fledgling, which I imagine he would have had to after six years of knowing her, then he’d know the cost of administering the poison.”

  Aidan nodded. “And because he cared about her, he declined the task.”

  “Thereby earning his death,” Lucian finished. “It’s exactly the kind of retaliation Jonathan prefers, especially when a minion doesn’t do his bidding.”

  “Indeed.” Aidan focused on Issac. “Show me the rune.”

  Astasiya shook beside him, her fingers trembling as she twisted the cloth of her dress against her thighs. “He…he died because of me?” she whispered, her big green eyes looking to Issac as if she needed him to deny it. “You think D-Doctor Fitzgerald…?”

  “We don’t know for certain, but it does seem plausible, yes.”

  “H-how? W-why?” She swallowed. “H-how do we…? I mean, there isn’t proof. We c-can’t know for—”

  An alarm sounded on Mateo’s tablet, silencing the room.

  Issac’s progeny lost himself to the technology, his fingers dancing over the screen with a dexterity few possessed. He managed the security of Issac’s estate, his strategically placed devices monitoring the grounds and nearby surroundings for any potential threats. The system activated whenever Issac or Amelia entertained Hydraians on the property, a fail-safe to ensure everyone remained alive and protected.

  “Tom Fitzgerald is a mile away,” Mateo said, his focus on the screen. “He seems to be alone.”

  “What?” Astasiya gaped at him. “How could you possibly know that?”

  “Facial recognition,” Mateo murmured without looking up. “I have all potential threats cataloged and categorized to notify me when in proximity.”

  “Like…” She cleared her throat. “Does it include all Ichorians?”

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  “Their faces?” she pressed, causing Issac to frown, curious as to what she truly wanted to know.

  “Yes, well, no.” Mateo typed something and bent over the screen. “He’s definitely headed our way.” He finally straightened, meeting Astasiya’s gaze. “The program has no pigment, just bone structure and dental records. Think skeletons, but alive. Would you like to see it?”

  She grimaced. “No, not really.”

  “What did you want to know, love?” Issac asked, holding her close.

  “I, uh, I was just thinking.” She paused, her fingers clenching the fabric of her dress. “I thought, maybe, if he has all the Ichorians, I might be able to find the man who killed my parents.”

  Ah yes. He imagined she would want to know his identity.

  “You saw the man who murdered your parents?” Aidan asked, head tilted. “What did he look like? Perhaps Lucian or I have met him.”

  With their penchants for remembering every detail of their lives, it would seem quite probable they could help Astasiya identify the killer. If only Issac could see the vision in her mind.

  “That’ll need to wait,” Mateo said, standing. “Tom just turned onto the street outside the gate. He’s definitely on his way here, and he’s not trying to hide it.”

  “Who’s Tom?” Eliza asked, having been quiet and studious by the wall throughout the conversation.

  “A friend of Astasiya’s,” Issac replied. “Who also happens to be a Sentinel with the CRF.”

  “Like the humanitarian organization?” She frowned. “Is that the company you keep talking about?”

  “Yes, they have a paramilitary unit that specializes in assassinating immortals,” Lucian summarized as he stood. “I’ll brief you more on it later.” He held out a hand for her. “We need to join the others, just in case Tom has brought a surprise with him.”

  Balthazar and Jayson entered at that moment, towels wrapped around their damp waists. The mind reader must have heard the thoughts inside and set everyone in action.

  “Is Eli’s armory unlocked, Wakefield?” Jayson asked.

  Issac nodded, sending them upstairs with Ash and Anya right behind them.

  It seemed the pool party had moved inside.

  Amelia would be positively appalled by the wet footprints across her marble foyer.

  Sorry, he said, glancing upward on instinct.

  “Can you at least tell me why we’re going upstairs?” Eliza asked, her arms wrapped around her middle, shaking. “Please?”

  “For protection,” he replied, his voice coaxing and tender and very unlike the authoritative one he typically favored. “The Hydraian who used to live here maintained a fully stocked weaponry, which my people are going to use if Tom has brought anyone with him.”

  She didn’t look very convinced. “And what are we going to be doing?”

  “Talking.” He held out his hand again. “There’s still so much for you to learn, but you can trust me.”

  “They’re not going to hurt Tom, right?” Astasiya asked, her voice tight and distracting Issac from the couple across the room. “They can’t hurt him, Issac. They… He’s…” She swallowed. “He’s still my friend.”

  “He sent you to the Arcadia.”

  “I know, b-but… Please, Issac. Don’t let them hurt him. Maybe he just wants to talk.” The plea in her gaze had him sighing.

  “All right. No one will touch him unless he enters aggressively,” he vowed. He made his voice loud enough for everyone to hear him on the ground level.

  Balthazar, don’t hurt the nitwit. Aya wants to talk to him first. Despite their differences, Issac trusted the mind reader to spread the word to his cohort. On this, they would share a side.

  “I’m too racked to be bothered, really. What with the edict not to kill and all.” Tristan’s Irish lilt always became more pronounced when agitated. “How very unlike you,” he added, the words pointed.

  “Maybe you should have stayed in the city,” Issac replied flatly, done with his childish behavior.

  His best friend narrowed his gaze, then chose to say nothing as he joined the others upstairs.

  Smart man.

  “Tom’s at the gate,” Mateo informed just as the buzz sounded from the security panel against the wall. “And he’s alone.”

  “Well, it seems Thomas is braver than I anticipated,” Issac murmured, standing. “Let him through.”

  25

  Queen on the Board

  Fuck, why is he here?

  Stas stood beside Issac in the foyer, Aidan and Mateo just behind them with guns in hand. A few other Hydraians lurked about, all with names she couldn’t remember.

  Tension radiated through the room, not at all helping the ache in her stomach.

  Owen working with Doctor Fitzgerald.

  Lizzie potentially being set up as her roommate.

  How long has the CRF known about me?

  Was any of it even true? She felt in her gut that they were missing something vital, some key piece of information that would exonerate both her best friends.

  And Tom.

  Yes, he sent her to the Arcadia.

  However, she knew he cared about her. She couldn’t be that blind to emotions and instincts; otherwise, she’d been living in a lie for the last six years. Stas refused to accept that, refused to believe it.

  “Let me talk to him first,” Issac said softly.

  She eyed him warily. “Why?”

  “To determine his intentions.” He pulled her close, his lips at her ear. “And to give you an opportunity to prepare for whatever you need to say to him.”

  She studied
his expression, soft and knowing and filled with understanding.

  How was it possible for someone to comprehend her on this level? To know what she needed before she realized it herself?

  She started to shake her head to clear it, then realized it came off as a denial. “Okay,” she said and swallowed. “But I want to listen.”

  “Of course.” He gestured to a stop behind the door, and she moved just as Tom knocked, his fist loud against the wood panel. “Ready?” Issac asked.

  Not really. She nodded anyway because what choice did she have? Besides, she wanted the truth. She needed to know.

  Did the CRF really try to kill me?

  “Thomas,” Issac greeted, opening the door.

  “Where is she?” Tom demanded, the voice that of the commander, not her friend.

  “By ‘she,’ I assume you mean Astasiya?” Issac used a taunting tone, one she suspected had Tom glowering at her demon.

  “If you turned her, I swear to whatever god you believe in that I will kill you.”

  She stole a breath, the words a blunt confirmation of what she already knew, but to hear it so clear in his voice was an entirely different beast. It meant he really did send her to the Arcadia to witness Ichorians feeding. And what about the Conclave?

  “With what?” Issac asked, sounding bored. “That CRF-modified pistol on your hip? That would imply you are able to see well enough to shoot. Or do you plan to use that fancy silver knife tucked into your boot? Again, requires sight, something I have no problem taking away if you threaten me again.”

  Silence met his words.

  Stas’s stomach churned, her palms clammy as she fisted them at her sides.

  He knew.

  He knew and he still sent me there.

  How could he do that to me?

  “Tell me she’s okay,” Tom finally said. “Please. Tell me she’s okay.”

  Her heart stuttered at the worry in his tone, the first indication that he actually did care, that maybe he hadn’t meant to do this to her. God, why did this have to be so confusing?

  “She’s fine,” Issac replied, folding his arms. “What the bloody hell were you thinking, sending her to the Arcadia?”

  Tom expelled a long breath, his relief palpable even through the door. “Fuck, I wasn’t thinking. I let my emotions, my anger, take over. I just wanted her to catch you, you know, doing your thing.”

  “My thing?” Issac repeated, sounding bored. “What thing is that, Thomas? What exactly did you hope for her to see?”

  “Feeding, asshole. I wanted her to see what you are.”

  “To what purpose, exactly? Other than endangering her life, of course.”

  “Goddammit, Wakefield. Just let me talk to her. I know she’s here.”

  “Do you?” Issac arched a brow. “And how do you know that?”

  “Her phone,” Tom growled. “Come on, just… I need… I need to apologize. And I need to see for myself that she’s okay.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, moving to Issac’s side, tired of hiding. “He hasn’t turned me. You can go now.” Because the headache brewing between her eyes didn’t need more fodder, nor did she know what to say to him.

  He sent her to the Arcadia to catch Issac feeding.

  Well, hell. A conversation would have been a much safer alternative.

  She frowned. Wait, if Tom sent me to the Arcadia to find out about Issac, then that means he assumed she didn’t know about Ichorians.

  Didn’t that contradict the theory about the CRF being aware of her fledgling status? Unless they assumed her to be ignorant of the supernatural world?

  “Stas.” Tom started forward, but Issac blocked him by placing himself between them.

  “Easy there, Sentinel. I didn’t invite you into my home.”

  “I want to talk to her.”

  “About what?” she asked over his shoulder.

  “Privately.”

  Issac folded his arms again. “Not going to happen.”

  “I’m not going to do anything to her,” Tom said. “Come on, Stas, you’ve known me for almost seven years. I didn’t know it was a Conclave. They don’t happen often. I went to the club the minute I realized what was going on, but I was too late.”

  “For what it’s worth, he’s telling the truth about that last bit. He was waiting outside the Arcadia when we left. He even followed us back to your place, which is why I stayed the night.” He stepped to the side, his shoulder braced against the doorjamb. “It’s also worth noting that it is not only stupid but also extremely risky for a Sentinel to stand outside the Arcadia. Especially one who happens to be the son of the CRF’s creator. The bounty on Thomas’s head is quite high. Essentially, he did risk his life to check on you as he is also doing now.”

  Her brows rose. “And you didn’t mention this earlier because…?”

  “Because his showing up didn’t change the fact that he nearly got you killed.”

  “You still should have told me.” Not that there’d been a lot of opportunity with all the other conversations.

  “I’m telling you now.”

  She didn’t have the energy or will to argue over something so trivial. He told her now, when it counted, even though he could have omitted the truth. “Okay,” she said, stepping into his side to lay her head against his shoulder.

  Tom observed the exchange without commenting, his expression artfully blank.

  “Why didn’t you just tell me what he was?” she asked.

  “Would you have believed me, Stas?”

  Another indication that he expected her to be ignorant of the supernatural world. Something’s not right. If the CRF knew about her fledgling status, then so would Tom, as the CEO’s son. Yet, he’d just suggested doubt over what she would believe.

  Why would he suspect that if he thought she was part of that world already?

  “You’re probably right,” she said slowly, the lie burning on her tongue.

  “He’s told you about the CRF, right?” Tom asked. “What we do?”

  Issac seemed to still beside her, his hesitation something she understood. He didn’t want her to mention his accusations against Jonathan. That, she could do.

  Stas shrugged to keep it nonchalant. “No, not exactly. But some things were implied.”

  “Did he mention that we hunt down rogue supernaturals who are causing issues in the mortal world?”

  That wasn’t exactly how Issac described it, no. “He mentioned that the military unit is equipped to handle immortals,” Stas offered instead.

  “Is that why you’re hiding here? You’re afraid we’ll hurt you for finding out?”

  “Will you?” Your organization already tried to kill me once.

  “Of course not. You know me better than that.”

  Do I? she wondered. “Maybe,” she said after a beat, still deciding his intentions. “But you’ve known about this for how long without telling me?”

  “You weren’t cleared to know, Stas.”

  Meaning the CRF doesn’t know what I am, or they would have killed me automatically. “So you sent me to a nightclub to clear me?”

  He palmed the back of his neck. “It was a discreet way of telling you.”

  “A discreet way?” Issac repeated. “Thomas, she met Osiris as a result. Was that discreet enough for you?”

  Tom’s eyes widened. “She met Osiris?”

  “Oh, yes. And what’s worse, she bloody intrigued him. Why do you think she’s here?”

  “Shit.” He began to pace, his hands in his hair. “Fuck, you have to let me take her, Wakefield. She’ll be safer at headquarters and you know it.”

  Issac snorted. “I don’t need to let you do anything.” He gazed down at her. “It’s not my choice.”

  She stared back at him. “It’s an option?” To go to the CRF?

  “Yes, but it takes you back to the city.” Where it would be unsafe, he seemed to add with his eyes.

  “How would the CRF keep me safe from Osiris?” she wondered
out loud, her question more for Issac than Tom.

  But Tom was the one who answered. “We have wards and other security protocols that will keep him out.”

  “So I would have to live there?” She didn’t like the sound of that at all.

  “Not necessarily.” A vague answer. “How about you come back with me and I’ll explain how we can protect you? It’s the least I can do for getting you into this mess. Then, if you aren’t interested, I’ll drive you back here myself.”

  “You expect me to trust that?” she asked, incredulous.

  “I expect you to trust me. How well do you know him, anyway? You really think he’ll help you before he helps himself? A man who comes from a long line of fallen angels?”

  “I prefer demon,” Issac murmured, his lips twitching at the reference to the so-called pet name she’d given him. “But whatever works.”

  “Has he explained why he drinks blood yet? A curse from the gods, right, Wakefield?”

  “Is that why you stopped by, Thomas? For a history lesson?”

  “Stop.” Stas needed a minute to process, to gather more information on this decision. It was one she shouldn’t be considering at all, but something still felt wrong. She needed more details, proof, something, to validate all the allegations. “If I go with you, you tell me everything. If I don’t like it, I get to leave,” she reiterated. “Yes?”

  Tom nodded.

  “And does your dad know you’re here?” she asked, trying to figure out where Doctor Fitzgerald fit with this inane idea.

  “No, but he knows about the club. And, uh, he’s kind of pissed at me. Like, livid.” He looked decidedly uncomfortable. “He loves you, you know. Like a daughter. It’s a little weird, but I get it. You’re family, Stas. You know you can trust us. Just think about it. Give me a chance to make this right. Please.”

  Movement caught her attention, Mateo waving his hand. Five minutes, he mouthed. Until what, she had no idea.

  But Issac must have understood the cryptic hand maneuver because he said, “Astasiya needs a few minutes to decide.”

  “I thought you didn’t make choices for her?” Tom countered.

  “He doesn’t,” Stas said quickly. “But he’s right. I need a few minutes to think about everything. You owe me at least that much, Tom.” And it seems Mateo wants to say something.