The Lost of New Bristol (Lila Randolph Book 2)

by Wren Weston

  “It’s proportionate to how annoying I find it.”

  Her mother gulped her wine. “Take over, Henri. I don’t have any patience left. I don’t know what I will do to my child if you do not.”

  “I’m not a child.”

  “Then stop acting like one. If I thought you were in your right mind, we’d be having a very different conversation right now.”

  Lemaire patted the chairwoman’s shoulder. “Settle down, Bea.”

  “No, I won’t. Fix it. Deal with her.”

  Gods, it was like Lila had been taken back a dozen years.

  Her father scooted to the edge of his seat and scratched his jaw. “Elizabeth, Chief Shaw just called. Could you tell us what you were doing driving around the loop at eleven o’clock at night?”

  “About two ten.”

  Her father swallowed hard. “Why were you driving so fast?”

  “Apparently, I was teaching a lesson to a very green militiaman. He wasn’t even going to write me a ticket, Father. Can you believe that? Bullstow’s finest, my ass.”

  “Language, young lady.”

  “Ass is a word, Mother. Look it up.”

  Her father cleared his throat. “And why were you on the loop in the first place?”

  “I needed to clear my head.”

  “You can clear your head while driving the speed limit. If you’d lost control and hit another car—”

  “I could have died. Just as I could have died if I’d had a heart attack, if I’d arrested the wrong criminal, or if the plane I was on went down. Or if I drank milk from a poisoned bottle. Need I go on? I’m not going to hide in an armored house. That’s not living. I needed to think. I went out and thought. And now, I’m going to bed. I’m exhausted.” Lila stood once more, brushing her gloves on her trouser legs.

  “Sit,” her mother ordered again.

  “Why? What exactly do you want to talk about, other than your car and a ticket?”

  Lila peered into her mother’s face, scanning it like she might inspect a possible forgery. But it wasn’t anger she found. That was gone. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think the chairwoman hadn’t found out about Tristan’s visit.

  Lila owed Isabel a bribe.

  “I humored you once tonight. Don’t ask me again.”

  Lila slipped her satchel over her shoulder, heaved herself to her feet, and stalked away.

  “When did she turn into a rebellious teenager?” her father muttered.

  “I’m not a teenager,” Lila called out over her shoulder. “I’m pushing thirty.”

  “She never stopped behaving like that with me, Henri. Why did she start behaving like that with you? That’s the question.”

  Lila trundled upstairs, making a great amount of noise, since her mother knew exactly where she was anyway.

  When she entered her room, she found Alex sitting on her couch, her pumps on the floor, her legs curled and tucked to the side. The slave worried the hem of her skirt and kept her eyes on the ground.

  Lila’s grouchiness faltered, but it didn’t fade. She wasn’t in the right frame of mind for another yelling match.

  She dropped her satchel on her desk and fished her palm from her trouser pocket, toeing her kicked-off boots into her closet. Then she turned on her desktop computer and swept the room for bugs.

  So far, she’d ignored Alex, waiting to see if she would talk or yell.

  She did neither, even when Lila leaned over her to sweep the coat of arms.

  Lila finally plopped down in front of her computer, breaking first. “I’m moving you to another Randolph compound after Simon leaves for boarding school, Ms. Wilson. You need a fresh start and a counselor to help you manage. Give me a list of your preferences by the weekend. I’ll do my best to meet them.”

  Alex scooted to the couch’s edge and fiddled with her pumps. “That’s not why I came.”

  “It’s not a good night to yell at me, Ms. Wilson. I’m done being your punching bag, and you do not deserve to be mine tonight.”

  Alex looked up. “Something happened between you and that guy you’re seeing, didn’t it?”

  “What guy?” Lila narrowed her eyes.

  “I swapped shifts with Isabel this morning. I was going to talk to you then, but you were already gone. I took care of your room.”

  Lila looked away, embarrassed, finally understanding why other highborn generally didn’t speak to the help.

  “There was a time when I would have known who you were with. Now, I have no idea.”

  Lila pushed her palm around her desk. She said nothing because she wanted Alex to leave. She just didn’t know how to ask nicely. She’d wanted to have this conversation for an entire week, but now was not the right time for it.

  She just wanted a nice, long shower.

  “Your mother was right about some of it,” Alex said. “You were too.”

  “Right about what?”

  “Patrick really did those things. It’s all true, isn’t it?”

  Lila nodded glumly.

  “Patrick was never bright. At least, I never thought he was that bright. I was so sure that my mother had convinced him to take the blame, that he’d put his neck in that noose, not understanding.” Alex faltered. “I made Johnny take me to Bullstow.”

  Lila’s eyes widened.

  “He’s a Randolph. He’s taken me off-compound before. It was actually one of the perks of getting involved with him. Chief Shaw wouldn’t let me see Patrick when they arrested me, and my mother was still too sick after the serum to have visitors. Johnny has cousins at Bullstow, though. I was going to threaten to tell your Aunt Georgina about what we’d been doing if he didn’t get me inside. I didn’t have to threaten him, though. He just took me. He didn’t ask why. He just asked for a moment to wash the dirt off his hands.”

  “He cares about you.”

  “I know. I almost threatened him. I shouldn’t have.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I almost did. I was still mad, and I needed to see my brother.”

  “What did he say?”

  Alex turned away and stared at the Randolph coat of arms. “Do you remember the story about Little Red Riding Hood and the wolf?”

  “I remember the grandmother was eaten. I once scratched out ‘grand’ in my book and gave it to my mother after a fight.”

  “That was mean.”

  “It was in crayon, and I was five. I didn’t know any better.”

  Alex worried her skirt’s hem once more. “I feel like Little Red Riding Hood lately, except that the wolf peeks out from everyone I know. Everyone. Now my eyes are open.”

  Lila stood up and sat beside her old friend on the couch. “Is Johnny a wolf?”

  “What if he is?”

  “What if he’s not? Am I a wolf?”

  “I don’t know.” Alex’s eyes reddened, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “You had me arrested, Lila. How could you have done that?”

  “You chose to hit me. More than once, and on more than one occasion. You chose to hit me in front of the council. What was I supposed to do?”

  Alex looked away. “I don’t know what you are anymore, Lila. I don’t know what Patrick is, either. He said horrible things.”

  “Like what?”

  “He said that I should poison the compound’s water supply and take my place with him and Mother. That I should make the Wilson name notorious so that everyone in the Allied Lands would remember us from beyond the grave. He’s gone crazy. When did he go crazy?”

  “I don’t know.” Lila stood up and dug through a stack of folders on her desk, finding a copy of Patrick’s thesis. She’d meant to give it to Alex at some point, but she might not have another chance. “Did you ever read this?”

  Alex took the folder and skimmed the title. “Skepticism
and Self-Interest?”

  “It’s Patrick’s senior thesis. I got it from Bokington.”

  “No, he didn’t do a senior thesis,” Alex said, skimming the table of contents. “The Morality of Criminal Activity?”

  Alex turned to the relevant section, her eyes passing over the wall of text, her face twisting in confusion. “This isn’t right, Lila. He had an internship with the Massons. He bragged about how he received college credit for playing games all—”

  “I remember. Doesn’t change the fact that he lied. He believed he was hiding his brilliance, I imagine. I had to hack deep into the Bokington network to find that, as well as his advisor’s recommendation that he see a psychiatrist. Bokington dropped the ball on that one. They’re covering their asses now.”

  Alex stared at the folder, realization sinking in. “So was he always like this? Did we miss it, or did he hide it? Or did he turn into someone else completely?”

  “You were away for a very long time. So was I. I thought I knew him too. When I saw him in the car at the airport, I thought your mother had sent him as a decoy. But the way he spoke to Captain O’Bryan, the passports, Oskar. He admitted to it all.”

  “We taught him how to ride a bike, Lila. We taught him how to tie his shoes. Did we teach him this too?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I want Dr. Booth to do a CT or an MRI or whatever it is they do on people’s minds when they flip like this. He’s got a brain tumor or a blood clot or—”

  “I asked already. Dr. Booth and Dr. Adams didn’t find anything.”

  “I want an autopsy, then,” Alex whispered, unable to hold back her tears. “After he’s gone. He’s not my Patrick anymore.”

  Lila bowed her head. “I’ll make arrangements with Chief Shaw and Dr. Booth.”

  Her friend didn’t speak for quite a while. When it grew too quiet and too awkward between them, Lila stood up to return to her desk, but Alex grabbed her hand before she could slip away. “I’ve missed you.”

  Lila felt her eyes grow hot. “I’ve missed you too.”

  Alex dropped her hand. “I’m sorry my family turned out so crap, Lila. I’m sorry they tried to hurt— I’m sorry they tried to kill you. I’m even sorry I hit you. I was so angry that it never registered that I’d almost lost you, and that Patrick would have been the one to do it to you. It wasn’t until your mother…”

  Lila sat down. “You were right too. I shouldn’t have asked you to help me. I just didn’t think.”

  “You didn’t make me do anything. I chose to help you. I have to accept my part in it.” Alex leaned back into the couch. “I just don’t understand how he could have done it. He screwed over our entire family. Some died in the riot. Others were sold at LeBeau’s. I have kin as slaves now. Not everyone was prepared for the crash to happen so soon.”

  “They’ll pay off their marks.”

  “I saw the numbers. It will take ten years for some of them to pay it off. He did that. He ruined my family and nearly killed my—killed you. He’s a wolf.”

  “Your mother—”

  “I already knew she was one, and everyone knows my cousins who died in that riot weren’t angels. Johnny pulled up the news footage. I saw what they did. It’s a humiliation, Lila. My family… Am I a wolf too?”

  “Gods, no,” Lila said, squeezing her hand.

  “Your mother was right about my family, about my breeding.” Tears spilled once again over Alex’s cheeks. “We’re all—”

  “Human. You’ve all made decisions.”

  “Mine have sucked lately. You have no idea how badly.”

  “I can assure you that mine have been worse. You know we’re going to have to keep tabs on Simon, don’t you?”

  Alex sat up with a start. “Lila, he’d never—”

  “Oracle’s light, I didn’t mean it like that. I mean we’ll have to make sure he doesn’t start thinking like you. It’ll eat at him.”

  “I already talked to him. I said that nothing he told you made a difference. You’d already begun poking around.” She sniffled into her handkerchief and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. A small smile crept to her face. “So who’s the guy?”

  “Ms. Wilson.”

  “Come on, tell me.”

  Lila stood up and retrieved her palm. “He’s no one you know.”

  “That’s not good enough,” Alex whined, trying to grin. “Tell me.”

  “No.”

  “I’m going to keep asking. You’ll get grouchy and annoyed and eventually you’ll give in. Why not skip to the end?”

  “You can ask as many times as you want. As long as my mother doesn’t, I’m happy.”

  “She won’t hear it from me. I’m not going to pretend that we’ll be best friends again, but I wouldn’t betray you like that.”

  After an awkward silence, Alex finally slipped from the room.

  Chapter 25

  Lila watched the crimson maple leaves flutter and tremble through the glass walls of the morning room. Johnny and his group of workborn knelt among them on the gravel path, pulling out weeds and pruning. They all wore thin coats and thick gloves.

  New Bristol had finally embraced autumn once more. The heat wave had finally broken.

  It was far colder inside the morning room, though and not as beautiful. Light streamed through the glass walls, casting errant sunbeams on the floor, the scattered light splitting into reds and blues on the wood.

  Lila sipped her juice in silence, wincing when a drop stung her wounded hand, free from her bandages and gloves at last. Her skin looked ugly and broken, but at least she could feel her spoon and glass for the first time in almost two weeks.

  Her parents barely looked up from their plates.

  That worked for her. She didn’t feel much like talking. Bleary-eyed from research the night before, she’d barely managed three hours of sleep.

  She had little to show for her effort. She’d taken a deeper look into the alien game’s code, recognizing that it wasn’t a virus and it didn’t transmit password or account information. After nodding off a few times, she’d hopped up for coffee, then hacked into Chief Shaw’s reports. No new developments had occurred in Rebecca’s case. It seemed Chief Vance’s men had spent the morning trying to track down Ms. Royce and her tea. Instead, they’d tracked down her body. She’d been killed in a car accident. One car, one pole.

  Murdered, by Lila’s estimation, though Chief Vance didn’t think it likely. After all, the drugs were in the chocolate. There was absolutely no reason to suspect that Ms. Royce was involved. They’d passed her death onto another team for investigation and focused on the hot chocolate and the rest of the staff at FPS, assuming one of them had given out Rebecca’s location.

  Very sloppy.

  Frustrated but not surprised, Lila had pulled up the game’s code once more, intent on digging further into the game.

  Unfortunately, the coffee she drank hadn’t kept her awake. She woke up with her nose pressed into her keyboard, a long string of slashes and semicolons upon the screen.

  She’d still had a few keyboard marks on her face after dressing for the day.

  Pax’s eyes bounced back and forth among Lila and her parents. He scratched his chin and picked up his knife and fork, cutting a bite of his omelet, the knife squealing as it raked across the china.

  “About your car,” her father began.

  Lila sighed. She didn’t have the time or the desire to buy a new car today, something she’d do as soon as he tried to bar her from the garage.

  “I thought about taking your keys away. I’d be within my rights to do so. You’re going to kill yourself one of these days.” He placed his fork on the table. “For oracle’s sake, Lila, you had a wreck less than two weeks ago. You’d think those stitches all over your hands would remind you to slow down. I have no desire to claim your body
when half of it is still smeared on the road. Unfortunately, you’re an adult.”

  “I’m more than an adult. I’m—”

  “Don’t push me, Elizabeth. You might be the chief of a family, but I’m the prime minister of an entire country. I have an entire army at my disposal. I could have you locked in this compound for the next ten years if I wished.”

  Lila raised a brow.

  “But you’d just find a way to wiggle out of it. Oracle’s light, child. Stop being stupid. Whatever’s crawled up your ass, find a different way of dealing with it.”

  The chairwoman turned her head. “Language, Henri.”

  “Bea? Sometimes you make me want to borrow Lila’s Firefly.”

  Pax chuckled as their mother turned her face away, harrumphing.

  At least Lila’s mother said nothing for the rest of the meal, likely plotting a way to make her father pay for the remark.

  He would pay eventually. So would Lila for her cheek lately, and for the Blanc.

  They wouldn’t pay today, though. Her mother let the bulk of Lila’s attitude pass unchecked, probably because Peter had nearly killed her less than a week before. But the temporary reprieve would soon fade, and her mother would be back to her usual mood and consequences, plotting and scheming.

  Lila finished her meal and left the table, pausing at the door while she slipped on her blackcoat, gritting her teeth as the leather pulled on her shoulder. She’d run the obstacle course before breakfast and had taken a particularly nasty fall.

  Winding a scarf around her neck, she stepped onto the gravel path.

  Her father followed her outside. “Is it the oracles?”

  “Is what the oracles?”

  “Is that the thing making you so…”

  “Would you care if it was?” she asked, thrusting her hands in her pockets.

  “Of course I would care. You’ve always been capable of handling so much. Even when you were a kid.”

  “So what, now I’m weak because I got a speeding ticket?”

  “No, you’re just acting like a pain in the ass.” He untied and retied his scarf, clearly uncomfortable. “Lila, the staff has informed me that you haven’t… That it’s been a very long time since…”