by I. T. Lucas
“Sounds good. I’ll have that.” Kian handed the waiter his menu.
When the guy finished collecting the orders and left, Turner felt that he needed to apologize. “It slipped my mind that you’re a vegan. I chose this place because the food is good and it’s close to my office.”
Kian waved a dismissive hand. “Most places can whip something up for me.” He pulled the breadbasket toward him. “And if not, I can always fill up on this.”
Reaching for a slice, Turner still felt a smidgen of guilt, a reminder of his pre-transition days of avoiding carbs to stay fit. Now he could indulge in as much of it as he wished and even spread butter over the freshly baked goodness.
“What do you think about my associate’s claim regarding special talents?” Kian asked. “Do you think the government is collecting them?”
Turner snorted. “Not against their wishes.” He lowered his voice so only the immortals could hear him. “Your associate is thinking in terms of what his leadership does. Recruiting talent, though, that I believe. Although where would they search? I don’t suppose they put out want ads, or go scouring psychic conventions.”
“Yeah, I see your point.” Kian raked his fingers through his hair. “Amanda tested hundreds of people and found only two strong talents. She says that many people have some small ability, but that’s not enough to be useful to anyone.”
“What about William’s game? Bridget told me that it flags players who do exceptionally well, which indicates they have precognition.”
“The results were so dismal that we stopped collecting data. It was a waste of time, but at least not of resources. The game keeps making decent money.”
As the waiter arrived with their order, Turner leaned back and waited until the guy was done before continuing.
“Trial and error, that’s how we find out things. If we don’t try, solutions are not going to materialize from thin air.”
Kian nodded. “That’s why I keep investing the clan’s money in Amanda’s research. What about the military? Are there any tests performed on soldiers?”
“Not that I know of.”
Kian smirked. “I thought you knew everything.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t. But I’ll look into it. See what I can find out without attracting too much attention.”
“Speaking of attention. I learned some disturbing news from my new associate. Apparently, the Russian found out about the ring, bought it back, and resumed his search for Ella. He’s convinced that she’s alive.”
“Damn. I knew that guy was going to talk. What I want to find out is whether Sandoval brought a Russian appraiser to do it on purpose or was it an oversight on his part. If he did it to fuck me over, he’s going to regret it.”
Kian paused with the twirl of fettuccine on his fork. “I’m sure it wasn’t malicious. He owed you for his nephew, right?”
“And he repaid me by endangering my family. Ella is my future daughter-in-law.”
Until voicing it, Turner hadn’t realized why he’d gotten so atypically angry. This was personal for him.
“But Sandoval didn’t know that,” Kian said. “You told him that you were aiding a friend.”
It was doubly irritating that hotheaded Kian was suddenly the voice of reason, while Turner was trying to extinguish the rage boiling in his gut. “True.” He shook his head. “I need to eliminate the threat.”
“Ella is not going to like it,” Anandur said.
“She doesn’t need to find out. I can make it look as if one of his rivals did it.”
“Don’t do anything rash, Turner,” Kian warned. “Ella’s premonition that we will need him for something might be true. Besides, my associate hinted about having dirt on the Russian that would get him off Ella’s back.”
“I’m never rash. Not even when I’m angry. But what kind of dirt could scare someone like that? Did he steal Putin’s memoirs?”
Kian laughed. “Now, that’s one book I would love to get my hands on.”
18
Carol
“Do you know Ewan and Camden?” Arwel asked as he opened the door for Carol.
“Of course, I do. I know everyone in the village. At one time or another, they all show up at the café.”
She followed him inside. “I just didn’t know that they were a couple of piggies.”
Glancing at the messy living room, Arwel shrugged. “I told them to clean up. I guess throwing out the empty delivery boxes and beer bottles was as far as they were willing to go.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Don't worry about it. I’ll whip them into shape. You can put the grocery bags on the counter. Thank you for carrying them up for me.”
“I’ll go down to get the rest. What are you planning on cooking that you bought so much?”
“I don’t want to have to go out grocery shopping. I got enough to last me a week.”
He chuckled. “You brought enough for a month.”
“I’m not cooking only for Lokan. You and I need to eat too, and I don’t want to neglect my new roommates either.”
“There are plenty of restaurants around here that deliver. It’s not like in the village, where the café is the only place to grab something to eat.”
“Well, I like to be prepared. I’m going to start on lunch right away.” She winked. “I can’t wait to meet Lokan.”
Arwel’s expression turned serious. “A few words of warning before that. He’s charming and manipulative and a liar. Don’t ever let your guard down or believe anything he says.”
He pulled out a small remote from his pocket. “Kian had William put four cuffs on him. I have a separate remote for each one. The buttons are marked, so there is no way to confuse them. The one with the syringe symbol delivers a neural poison. It won’t kill him, and it will take a couple of seconds for the pain to disable him. His body will process the poison in half an hour or so. The buttons with the grenade symbol will detonate the explosives. Whatever limb the cuff is attached to will be blown to pieces. This will take him months to regenerate, so use it as a last resort.”
Bile rising in her throat, Carol shook her head. “I don’t want it.”
“Don’t worry. I’m in the cell next door to his. If he overpowers you and takes it away from you, I have three more I can use on him.”
“That’s why I don’t need it. If he does anything to me, you will feel it, right? You will sense my distress.”
He nodded. “What if he takes you as a hostage and threatens to snap your neck?”
She shrugged. “Let him. It won’t kill me. It will hurt like hell, and I’ll probably pass out, but that’s better than having this awful thing with me. I’d be terrified of pressing a button accidentally.”
“It has a safety feature built in.” He lifted the small device so she could see it from both sides. “You have to slide this up before you press a button.”
Carol shook her head again. “You have cameras in his cell, right?”
“Of course.”
“Then they should do. Watch the feed and if he misbehaves, come in.”
Rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, Arwel looked away. “What if you want privacy with him?”
“I’m not shy, Arwel. I don’t mind if you watch.”
“I mind.”
That was a problem she wasn’t sure how to solve. “I don’t know what to tell you. But having that remote with me is not an option. First of all, because it’s not going to do me any good. In the two seconds it will take for the poison to affect him, Lokan will take the remote away from me. Secondly, if he knows what it does, he can hold his wrist to my chest and threaten to kill me if you don’t let him out. An explosion that is strong enough to blow his wrist to pieces might do the same to my heart.”
Cringing, Arwel rubbed his neck again. “You’re right. I didn’t think of that. I don’t think it can kill you, but I won’t take the risk.”
“So, what do we do?”
“Either I watch the feed, or I rely on my
senses. I don’t see any other option.”
“Both are fine with me. Besides, this is all worst-case scenario and hypothetical. He has no way out of here, and I’m more valuable to him as a source of information than a hostage.” She smirked. “Not to mention my other assets.”
“About that. Don’t tell him anything valuable.”
Carol waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. He is going to think of me as the ditsy blonde who serves his meals and makes his bed. He is going to try to get me talking, and I will, just not about anything he can use. In the meantime, I’m going to pump him for information without him even realizing what I’m doing. No offense to your gender, Arwel, but men are so easy to manipulate that it’s laughable.”
“I’m not sure this one is. Being a manipulator himself, he might be onto you.”
“We will see. First, though, I need to get cooking, and then I need to shower and change into something flirty.”
“I hope you’re not thinking about putting on a French maid uniform.”
Heading to the kitchen, she sighed. “I wish. Those are so sexy. Regrettably, I can’t be that obvious. Part of the game is having him believe that he’s seducing me and not the other way around.”
Arwel stashed the remote back in his pocket. “Too much information, Carol. I’m going to get the rest of the stuff from the car.” He turned on his heel and headed toward the door.
“I didn’t know you were such a prude,” she called after him.
“Yeah, yeah.” He paused with the door open and looked at her over his shoulder. “By the way, you can’t take your phone when you go to see him. He can take it away from you and dial his people before I can blow his hand up. You’ll need to use the landline to communicate with me. Until I let you out, you will be stuck with him.”
“Got it.” She saluted the Guardian.
Being stuck with Lokan wasn’t going to be a hardship, and she’d figured out about the phone on her own.
Even her own people still underestimated her, but that was going to change.
19
Vivian
“I don’t want to sit in the back between you and Magnus.” Parker stood outside Julian’s car and refused to enter. “Can we borrow the limousine from Kian?”
Vivian shook her head. Getting the entire family to go wedding-clothes shopping together, including Ella and Julian, had sounded like fun, a bonding experience, but it seemed her plan was hitting a snag even before they left the parking lot.
“We can take two cars,” Magnus offered.
“I have a better idea,” Ella said. “Magnus and Vivian will sit up front, and we will take the backseat with me in the middle. I don’t mind being squeezed. What do you say, Parker, can you suffer quietly for the forty-five-minute drive to the mall?”
“Can I go to the gaming store once we get there?”
Magnus chuckled. “Is there still a game that you don’t have?”
Vivian ruffled Parker's hair. “Today is about getting clothes for the wedding. You’re going with the guys to the tux shop while Ella and I go to the bridal store.”
He grimaced. “Can’t wait.”
An hour later, Vivian and Ella stepped into the dressing room, both carrying an armload of dresses.
“It’s good that they make them big.” Ella started hanging up the dresses. “Imagine trying to do this in an ordinary department store fitting room.”
“Do you need help in there?” the sales lady chirped.
“No, thank you. We’ve got it,” Ella answered, then glanced up to look at the ceiling. “Do you think we can take the glasses off in here? I can’t see any cameras.”
Vivian followed her daughter’s eyes, but there was nothing mounted on the ceiling. “They don’t need cameras in here. It’s not like anyone can walk out of here with a dress without paying. They are huge. Besides, I’m not going to try on my wedding dress with the wig and glasses on. I need to know how I’m going to look in it as me, and not the Mata Hari version of me.”
Ella pushed her glasses up her nose. “Just in case, I’m keeping them on.”
Kian had told them about Gorchenco buying the ring back and renewing his search for Ella, warning them not to ease up on the disguises. Supposedly, Lokan had some dirt on the Russian that could potentially get him to back off for good, but Vivian doubted that. Lokan would say anything to gain an advantage, including some made-up story about Gorchenco and a transgression big enough that it could get a major mafia boss in trouble.
Right. For that to happen in Russia, Gorchenco would have to kidnap one of Putin’s daughters and treat her like he had Ella.
Was this ever going to end, so Ella could finally be free?
“I believe that we are safe here.” Vivian took her wig off and hung it on the hook. “Let’s do it. Hand me the first one.”
They got into the rhythm, with Vivian trying on one dress after the other, and Ella putting them back on the hangers and dividing them into two sections—the no ways and the maybes.
“They all look good on you, Mom. You have the perfect body for a wedding dress. Skinny with no curves. If you were taller, you would have been a perfect model.”
“Thanks.” Vivian grimaced. “That’s not much of a compliment. I would have loved having curves like yours.”
“Yeah. Wait until I start trying on dresses. They are not going to fit as well.”
“Nonsense.” Vivian examined her reflection in the mirror. “You’re perfectly proportioned.”
Ella shrugged. “I like this dress the best on you.”
“Me too. Should I just get it? I’m tired.”
“Up to you. But I think you should try them all before deciding.”
The dress wasn’t as overly ornate as the others, and the skirts were not as puffy. Except, wearing a white dress to her second wedding felt somewhat inappropriate. She hadn’t been a virgin her first time around as a bride and yet had no qualms about wearing white. But now she was a widow, and wearing it again felt like disrespecting Josh’s memory.
“Why are you frowning? Did you change your mind about the dress?”
“It’s not that. The dress is pretty, but I’m reconsidering the color. Maybe a pale yellow or blue is more appropriate?”
Ella waved a dismissive hand. “You’ll look like a ghost in those colors. What’s your problem with white?”
“It’s not my first wedding.”
“So what?”
“I loved your father very much.” A tear slid down her cheek, and she wiped it with the back of her hand. “I feel like I shouldn't wear white again.”
“Oh, Mom.” Ella pushed up from the bench and wrapped her arms around her.
With a sigh, Vivian rested her cheek on her daughter’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. This was supposed to be fun.”
“If wearing white makes you feel bad, we can look for something else. But I don’t think you should feel guilty about getting another chance at love.”
It was just like Ella to go straight to the point without dancing circles around it.
“I know. But I’m also not a young girl anymore. I’ll feel like an imposter in a virginal wedding gown.”
Ella snorted. “The white no longer represents virginity, Mom. It represents a new beginning, which is more than appropriate in your case. A new husband is just one part of it.”
“Don’t say that. It’s all about Magnus. None of this would be happening without him.”
“Not true. None of this would be happening without Julian and your chance meeting with him. What if another Guardian had been assigned to keep you and Parker safe? You might have fallen for someone else.”
Pushing out of Ella’s arms, Vivian huffed. “I would not. Magnus is one of a kind. He is not interchangeable with any other Guardian.”
Ella smiled. “Precisely. Don’t you think he deserves a bride in a white dress?”
“He couldn't care less what I wear.”
“I don’t know about that. This is his first and only wedd
ing.”
Ella was right. Magnus might not care what she wore, but he might be disappointed if she treated their wedding as less important than her first one, which a nontraditional colored dress might imply.
“You are a very wise young woman. Let’s try the rest of these dresses and choose the best one.”
20
Carol
“Ready?” Arwel asked as Carol stepped out into the living room.
“How do I look?” She turned in a circle. “I rock the casual yet sexy look if I say so myself.”
Not to be too obvious, she’d put on a simple pair of black leggings and a loose, off-the-shoulder pink sweater with a white camisole underneath. Her cleavage wasn’t showing, but the soft sweater draped nicely over her breasts, outlining their shape, and its droopy neckline left one soft shoulder exposed. Low-heeled black boots completed the look.
“You always look good,” Arwel said.
A very safe response to a dangerous question that most men weren’t smart enough to dodge. Except, he wasn’t her boyfriend, and she needed an honest opinion.
“That’s not an answer. You’ve spent some time with the Doomer. Do you think he’s going to drool, or should I change into something more revealing?”
Arwel shook his head. “I meant what I said. You look good even in the apron that you wear in the café. I don’t know about the Doomer, though. My impression of him is that he is a snob and that he likes the sophisticated type, but I might be wrong. He’s one hell of an actor.”
“I can’t pretend to be the cook or the maid and wear a suit. So, this will have to do. Let’s go.”
Lifting the covered tray off the counter, Arwel inhaled the aroma. “The smell makes me hungry.”
Carol opened the door for him. “You ate two servings already. You should be full.”
He followed her out. “But this is so good. It’s a shame to waste it on the Doomer.”