by Lexi C. Foss
And the really weird nightmare about cement.
Stas shivered. “And everyone…?”
“They’re all fine. Amelia and Thomas were in the process of freeing some former Sentinel from a cage when the building collapsed. Jacque teleported the T-Team back to Hydria. Gabriel took us here. And Leela—”
“Decided to give us a vacation,” Alik finished for him. “A-Team is on the beach. Well, except Balthazar. He’s with Luc.” He shrugged. “I opted to stay here. Gives me the opportunity to kick Owen’s ass a few times before Luc grants him immunity.”
“If he grants me immunity,” Owen muttered. “He might not.”
“He shouldn’t,” Ash said from the doorway. “You broke the vow.”
Stas glanced between them, her head still pounding. “What vow?”
“Unspoken agreement to honor the Elders and your fellow Hydraians. Always.” Owen had the grace to look sheepish. “When I agreed to help Ezekiel and Gabriel, I went behind Luc’s back. It’s seen as a betrayal, even if I did it for the right reasons.”
Ash snorted and walked through the open glass doors.
“Yeah, everyone hates me,” Owen mumbled. “Honestly, I’m not all that eager to go back right now.”
“They’ll come around,” Alik replied. “After you let us kick your ass a few times.” He clapped the guy on the shoulder and sauntered off to the kitchen, where Tristan stood nursing a beer.
“Where’s Stark?” Stas asked, completely at a loss for her surroundings. She was lying down. On a couch. Using Issac’s thigh as a pillow. If she kept losing time and space like this, she might just lose her mind.
“He’s sulking upstairs.” Owen collapsed on the chair beside her. “Stark isn’t one for visitors, and his property is overrun with guests right now.”
“We won’t be here for long,” Issac murmured, brushing Stas’s hair away from her face. “Once Astasiya is feeling better, we’ll return to—”
Alik swore.
Issac tensed.
And Ezekiel appeared in the center of the room, panting. “Stark!” he shouted, his eyes wild. “Stark!”
“I’m here.” Stark’s red feathers flickered in the incoming light. “What is it?”
“It’s Sethios,” Ezekiel breathed. “Osiris… Fuck. Osiris is… he’s… he’s killing Sethios.”
31
Tom
Fifteen Minutes Earlier
“Jonathan has an informant working on the inside.” Luc sat at the head of the table, his hands clasped over the CRF’s worthless schematics. The entire fucking building had collapsed. All those people—dead.
A terrorist attack, according to the media.
Tom shuddered. His father was an evil son of a bitch—a selfish bastard who cared nothing about innocent lives. Tom’s jaw threatened to break from him clenching it so hard. When I get my hands on him…
“We knew this after the wedding but thought it might be a lower-ranking Hydraian,” Luc continued. “We now know that isn’t the case. Only a handful of people knew about our operation at the CRF today—something we kept secret on purpose. And Jonathan still knew. It’s the only explanation for the trap, as well as his knowledge of Stark being a Seraphim.”
Tom agreed, frustrated that their plan went up in flames. At least he and Amelia were able to save one of the research subjects. All the others were undoubtedly destroyed by the collapsing building.
His hands tensed on the table, furious at his father’s actions and even angrier at whoever had betrayed them. Too many lives lost. Friends, and employees Tom had likely met or smiled at in passing, were all dead.
Alik reported that only a handful of Sentinels were left to guard the entry. Which meant those bastards knew what John intended to do and left all those people to die. That, or he’d given them all an assignment out of office. But Tom very much suspected the former. Those men didn’t have souls.
And they’re supposed to be humanitarian aid soldiers.
“Who do you suspect?” Jay prompted, his dark eyes holding a hint of exhaustion. Lizzie’s pregnancy was escalating quickly, leaving the Elder concerned for her health. Many of them shared his worry, but if anyone would survive it, it would be Lizzie Watkins. That woman was resilient to her core.
Balthazar shook his head. “Both seem unlikely.” He’d clearly overheard the names from Luc’s thoughts. It was only the four of them in the dining area of B’s house. Everyone else had been excused, except for Amelia, but she had chosen to check on Lizzie instead of staying for the meeting.
“Who?” Jay demanded.
Luc leaned forward. “Nadia and Tristan.”
Balthazar shook his head. “I just don’t see it, Luc.”
“Think about it, B. They were both in Athens during the attack—”
“As was Alik,” he interjected.
“Yes, because they asked him to go out with them. And we know it wasn’t him.”
“I know, but I’m saying, I don’t think it’s Nadia. Or Tristan, either. It doesn’t feel right.”
“Then explain Tristan’s behavior of late. And Nadia—what the fuck was that earlier?” Luc asked, his tone lacking his usual patience. “She didn’t show up at the required time. She half-assed her participation, according to Tom’s report, and she’s been incredibly distracted. She also used to be friends with Jonathan.”
All true and fair points. But Tom somewhat agreed with Balthazar that it didn’t feel right. Tristan was too obvious a choice. He might be an ass, but he clearly cared about Wakefield. All his actions, even the darker ones, served a purpose of supporting his Sire. What motive did he have to aid John? Other than maybe his jealousy over Wakefield’s relationship with Stas, but that couldn’t be morphed into a need for revenge. At least, not on a logical level.
And Nadia, well, her emotions seemed to be fucking with her ability to focus. Tom didn’t know the woman well, but he gathered from her less-than-stellar performance that she had a lot on her mind. Maybe she’d known about the impending attack and worried for her life, but he didn’t get that read from her. She just seemed sad.
“By that account, we’re all suspects, Luc,” Balthazar pointed out. “Because we also used to be friends with Jonathan.”
“But she was closer to him. Tristan, too.”
“And Clara,” Balthazar added. “If you’re going to accuse Nadia, then you have to accuse Clara as well.”
Luc sighed. “That woman is broken over my father’s death. You said it yourself.”
“Yes, as is Nadia, whom I also mentioned in that conversation.”
“Fine.” Luc ran his fingers through his hair. “Then who do you think is responsible? Because someone—someone close to us, to our movements—is feeding information to Jonathan. Only a handful of people knew about today’s mission, and Clara wasn’t one of them.”
“Unless Nadia told her,” Tom murmured. “That’s where Jacque found her.”
Luc heaved another deep breath. “I’ve narrowed it down to who it’s not—the four of us, Alik, Amelia, Stas, and Wakefield are definitely not involved.”
“Leaving Stark, Ezekiel, Leela, Mateo, Jacque, and Ash as possible suspects as well,” Balthazar surmised. “That’s everyone who definitely knew about our plans today. Plus, Tristan and Nadia.”
“It’s not Jacque or Ash,” Luc said, confident. “Ezekiel?”
Tom sat up straighter, his shoulders tensing. “Yeah, where was he when the building exploded? He knew about the plans but didn’t volunteer to help.”
“He had to report back to Osiris,” Luc said.
“Which is rather convenient.” Tom scratched his jaw, considering everything he knew about the notorious assassin. “He’s proven to be working against Osiris, yet he always crawls back to the bastard like a loyal lapdog. Do we know why?”
“When I asked him, he claimed Osiris has his heart.” Balthazar folded his arms, his biceps bulging beneath his T-shirt. “I’m not sure what that means, but I suspect he’s referring to Sk
ye.”
“The prophetess?” Tom asked, recalling the name. He’d only heard it a few times in passing, always in regard to Stas’s future. “Is she, like, a seer?”
“I believe she’s an Ichorian with the ability to see future outcomes,” Luc replied. “Stark mentioned she’s a descendant of the Fates. Apparently, all our abilities—both Ichorian and Hydraian alike—can be linked to one of the Seraphim bloodlines. There are hundreds of them.”
“And where are they?” Tom prompted. “We’ve only met two, three if you include Stas.”
“They have an entire society in the South Pacific that is hidden from view by wards.” Intrigue deepened Luc’s voice. “It’s fascinating.”
“And completely off topic,” Jay grumbled, running a hand over his tired face. “Look, as much as I would love to learn more about the Seraphim, now isn’t the time. As far as Ezekiel is concerned, everything that man does in some way benefits himself, and I really don’t see how tattling to Jonathan benefits him in the slightest. Also, let’s not forget that whoever the culprit is informed Jonathan that Stark’s a Seraphim, something Jonathan clearly did not know until this week. Why would Ezekiel expose Stark now after keeping his confidence for over twenty-five years?”
The man had a point. “He could be playing the long game,” Tom said. “But I agree; it doesn’t seem to benefit him.”
“Unless Osiris is compelling the truth from him,” Luc suggested. “However, in terms of betrayal, neither Ezekiel nor Stark makes much sense. And by association, I’d rule out Leela as well.”
“It’s not Leela,” Balthazar said, certain. “I’d bet my life on that.”
“You’re slightly clouded considering your obvious interest in the female, but I’m inclined to agree here,” Luc murmured. “Which brings us back to Mateo, Nadia, and Tristan. As Mateo was literally with me the entire time, I don’t see it being him.”
“Unless he sent an electronic communication that we couldn’t hear or see.” Technology allowed for all manner of innovation, something Tom knew well from his time at the CRF. “The comms did go bad as well,” he added.
Luc shook his head. “He explained all that to me. It had something to do with the detonation interfering with radio signals. I really don’t think he’s working with Jonathan.”
“He’s never done anything suspicious, has always helped Wakefield and us when we asked, and is also too young to have any positive ties to Jonathan.” Balthazar relaxed in his chair. “Not him.”
“Agree,” Jayson said. “Leaving Nadia and Tristan, as Luc said. And maybe Clara.”
Silence fell over the table, all of them contemplating how to proceed. Alik had purposely stayed with his team at Stark’s place so he could keep an eye on Tristan, aware that Luc questioned the man’s loyalties. Nadia was with Clara again.
“Someone needs to keep an eye on Nadia,” Tom said.
Nods around the table.
“I can do it,” Balthazar murmured. “The girls trust me. I can also monitor their emotions and thoughts, listen for anything out of the norm.”
Luc inclined his head in agreement. “Meanwhile, we need to narrow down Jonathan’s potential locations.”
“Uh.” Mateo cleared his throat from the living area, having apparently entered while they were all deep in discussion. “Yeah, about that, I have his location.”
All four of them turned toward the voice, shock rolling over all of them except Balthazar. The latter nodded at Mateo, clearly having heard his thoughts upon approach.
A little heads-up next time, yeah? Tom thought at him.
Balthazar merely shrugged, unapologetic.
“I know you said not to disturb you, and, yeah, I get why now, but… I, uh, thought you’d want to know that I found him.” Mateo swallowed. “So, should I show you, or am I still on the potential mole list?”
Luc sighed. “We know you’re not the mole, Mateo.”
“Good. Right. Of course.” Another clearing of the throat. “ ’Cause I could show you proof that I’m not, if you needed me to. And I’ve never much liked Jonathan. So if you need some evidence to the contrary or anything, just—”
“Mateo, we know you’re not the mole,” Luc repeated, authority ringing in his voice. “Now tell us what you’ve found.”
“Cool. Yeah.” He stepped timidly into the room and set his laptop on the table. “He’s in Upstate New York, in a place—”
Tom cursed, immediately recognizing the location on the screen. “Of course. I should have known. That fucker.” He shoved away from the table and began pacing, his hands in his hair. “I’m going to throttle him. That’s Rosalie’s house.”
“Rosalie?” Balthazar repeated. “Like your former aunt?”
“One and the same.” His father had used her to lure him out of hiding once, only to reveal that Rosalie had worked with him the entire time. The poor woman had believed his father’s lies and had paid the ultimate price—with her life. And now it seemed the asshole was using her house as a safe haven. “You’re positive he’s there? That it’s not another trap?” Because it almost seemed too obvious.
“I tracked the communication from his office to this address. He routed through several locations first, enough to mask his whereabouts from most sufficient hackers. But I’m good.” Mateo smiled. “Actually, I’m the best.”
“What were some of the other locations?” Luc asked slowly. “Can you list them?”
“Uh, yeah, of course. But he’s not there.”
“I understand that, but I might have an idea.”
“Okay.” Mateo scrolled through his computer and listed over a dozen physical sites the message pinged before finally connecting at the CRF headquarters.
“Do you recognize any of those places, Tom?” Luc asked.
Tom nodded. “Several. The one in the Caribbean is a property he owns. I’m pretty sure the same goes for that address in Arizona, too. Also, the Calgary location, as well as the Munich condo, are known CRF safe houses.”
“Which one would you find more plausible for him to be at? Hypothetically, I mean.”
“Any of them,” Tom replied. “Although, the CRF safe houses would be more likely because his estates are too easily found. And he’d have access to weapons and potential personnel at those locations.” Assuming he hadn’t killed everyone involved with the CRF.
Amelia and Tom had only been able to help one person escape alive—Blake. Luc assigned the unconscious male to the same cell Tom had occupied only a few months ago after helping Amelia reunite with her family.
They had no way of knowing what kind of mental condition Blake was in yet. However, John Fitzgerald’s penchant for psychological torture made it safe to assume the former Sentinel was not in great shape.
“I like that,” Balthazar murmured, responding to something in Luc’s thoughts. “It’s a good test of faith.”
Luc scratched his jaw. “We tell Tristan we’re heading to Calgary to catch Jonathan. Then we give Nadia the Arizona address, but switch it up to Munich last-minute.”
“While allowing her enough time to notify Jonathan,” Balthazar added.
“Exactly,” Luc agreed. “Assuming he’s set traps like he did at headquarters, we can base the findings on whichever one implodes.”
“And if he didn’t arrange anything?” Mateo asked, causing Tom to shake his head.
“Not my father’s style. He loves a good game of cat and mouse. I can guarantee he’s set traps at all those locations, but he’ll only be monitoring one—the one he suspects is about to go up in flames. Because he’ll want to admire his handiwork.”
Luc grinned. “Meanwhile, we’ll sneak up on the cat while he’s on the prowl.” He rubbed his hands together. “All right, Alik will lead the team with Tristan because he’s probably the only one who can subdue him if he’s our culprit. Jay and B, I want you to team up with Ash to manage Nadia. Then Fitzgerald, Wakefield, and I will get Jonathan.”
“Amelia, too,” Tom said, adamant. �
��She’s earned her spot on this team, and I go nowhere without her.” If anyone had earned the right to exact vengeance, it was Amelia. No way would Tom ever take that opportunity away from her. “She’s coming. And I imagine Stas will want in as well.”
“All right,” Luc replied. “But I’m counting on you to keep my sister safe.”
“She doesn’t need me to do that,” he replied, smiling. “The woman is a natural sharpshooter.” His heart warmed at the thought. His little asset had blossomed into quite the warrior—a total turn-on in the bedroom, too.
Balthazar cleared his throat. “Going to cut you off right there, Fitzgerald. Got it. She can handle herself. Done. Moving on.”
Tom smirked. “I never thought you would be such a prude, B.”
“Do you want Luc to punch you, Tom?” he countered. “Because he will. A single mention of what you want to do to his little sister and—”
“Understood,” Tom interjected. “Weren’t we discussing a tactical plan?”
Balthazar grinned, his gaze saying, That’s what I thought.
“I was about to suggest we call Wakefield,” Luc said, completely unfazed by the conversation.
“Tristan will overhear the discussion,” Mateo warned.
“Yes, I already have a way around that,” Luc said, playing with his phone. “All right. Tom, go find Amelia and inform her of the plans. Jayson, go love on your wife for a bit. She needs it. Balthazar will brief Ash. And, Mateo, we need separate communication devices and frequencies for each group. Oh, and keep an eye on Jonathan. If that bastard moves, I want to know immediately. Meanwhile, I’ll handle Wakefield.”
“Good luck,” Balthazar said softly. “He’s not going to take your accusation lightly.”
Luc gave him a grim expression. “I know, but right now, Tristan’s actions prove him to be the guiltiest suspect.”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think it’s him,” Mateo said quietly. “But I’ll look into all their phone records to see if I can find anything telling.”
“Good.” Luc glanced around, his expression stern. “This goes without saying, but Jonathan’s location stays between us.”
