Reeve of Veils (Inheritance Book 4)

by Amelia Faulkner

  Mikey nodded for a second, then shook his head. “No,” he admitted.

  “No,” Frederick mused. “But you will.”

  He left, and Mikey soon followed.

  34

  FREDERICK

  He returned to his own room and straightened up the bedding. Alone, he tended to occupy the centre of any bed he slept in, but he didn’t wish for Michael to get the impression that they had to share bodily contact. The boy was in a fragile state, and Frederick did his best to minimize any potential triggers.

  It wasn’t hard to deduce what had set off this latest nightmare. The last time Michael had slept with someone far larger and stronger than himself was unwittingly, as a child, and he had done his best to bury all that since. Oh, certainly Paul had never penetrated Michael, but that made the situation no less abusive, and if the man hadn’t done the decent thing and blown his own head off already Frederick might feel inclined to hunt him down and persuade him that now was the time.

  He fluffed pillows between his hands and set them down with care as he tamped down on the uncharacteristic flare of anger. Temper was Icky’s problem, not his, and it would not do to go around killing people out of revenge. Then he would be no better than Wilson.

  In this, Michael had proven wiser than himself. The boy understood his uncle’s abuses were not neurotypical behavior, and even though they had undoubtedly affected Michael’s whole life he didn’t harbor blame.

  The boy was ridiculously smart. That he had fared poorly at school suddenly made an awful lot more sense.

  Just as Icky had.

  Frederick curled his lip and sat down on the side of the bed furthest from the door so that Michael had assurance of an escape route.

  The smallest speck of a plan was formulating. It would be a small matter to convince Laurence to find evidence one way or another of what they both suspected. There was no way Father could have done things like that without being physically present. And once there was proof, Laurence’s anger should provoke him to take action. What form that action may take was as yet unpredictable, but with luck the dominoes would begin to fall toward Icky wreaking his own vengeance.

  The obstacle to overcome was Icky’s pacifism. For all his quick temper and mercurial moods, he would do no harm. Not even to Laurence, who so obviously yearned to be hurt. If Icky wasn’t smart enough to see to Laurence’s needs he would lose the florist in the end, and that seemed a terribly wasted opportunity.

  This Wilson situation seemed promising, though. Perhaps he could use it to teach Icky to at least consider hurting another living being. The man had children under his roof, likely unwillingly on their part, and he’d proven more than happy to kill children in the past. Hell, if Sloane’s reports were accurate, Wilson was still killing; he was just using slightly more sophisticated means now.

  How convenient it was that a wildfire should branch out to kill one person. And how interesting that this one person was the personal aide to political rivals of Wilson’s main contacts.

  Footsteps at the doorway made him fold away that train of thought for the time being. He would work on it another time.

  Michael had taken some time to tidy himself up and slip into hotel pajamas. They were a bit long for him, and Frederick made a mental note to have some collected which would be a better fit. He had slipped into his own before entering Michael’s room because a naked man looming out of the shadows at him was not what the boy needed right at that time, so with any luck Michael would feel a little safer with them both clothed.

  “Are you sure this is okay?” Michael hovered near the entrance.

  “If you wish to stay, then it is okay. If you don’t, that is also okay.” Frederick gestured to the far side of the bed. “If you want me to help you have a good night’s sleep, that’s also viable.”

  “Help like…” Michael waved a finger toward his own head.

  “Just so.” Frederick shrugged. “It’s not difficult to suppress your anxiety to allow you to sleep. But it’s up to you.”

  “Okay.” Michael came closer, then snuck himself between the sheets and curled into a ball.

  Frederick gave him time to become at ease before he got into bed himself, and he lay on his side facing the ball of American.

  What do I say? Do I even say anything, or do I just lie here and hope I can sleep? But what if I get another nightmare and wake him up? That’s not fair, right?

  Except he insists life isn’t fair.

  Jesus, I’m so messed up. Here’s this amazing guy who wants me and I’m just falling apart all over him.

  Frederick smiled faintly to himself. He didn’t say anything. Michael needed some space in which to work these things through, so Frederick closed his eyes and settled in to sleep.

  Michael would wake him if he had need.

  HE WOKE to find Michael attached to him like a barnacle. The boy had burrowed up against his chest and snuck an arm around his waist, and at some point Frederick had clearly found it more comfortable to drape his arm around Michael’s shoulders in return.

  This was… different. He hesitated to call it nice, exactly, but it was certainly an interesting experience to wake up with one’s lover in the same bed. Not that any of the others could have stabbed him in the kidneys even if they’d wanted to, but it wasn’t a personal security thing. It was more one of emotional distance, and he knew it. It sent a clear message: I have had what I wanted from you, and now you go away.

  Except now he was doing things like caring about Michael’s well-being and allowing him to sleep in the same room. While he despised logical fallacies, the slippery slope seemed quite apt right now. Whatever next? Cuddles?

  He eyed Michael.

  Too late.

  Michael stirred slowly, and Frederick closed his eyes. Best the boy didn’t wake to find himself being stared at. He waited for Michael’s thoughts to sort themselves out and settle on a peculiar strength of affection which seemed ridiculously close to love.

  Oh, God, Michael was in love with him.

  Frederick idly opened one eye and peered down at the boy. “Stop that,” he grumbled.

  “No.” Michael withdrew his hand to rub his eyes, then slid it right back around Frederick’s waist. “You broke it, man, you bought it.”

  He couldn’t help but approve of Michael’s growing confidence, and smirked briefly. “Don’t be absurd. You aren’t anywhere near broken. Yet.”

  “Uh huh.” Michael wriggled closer and rested his cheek to Frederick’s chest.

  He petted Michael’s curls idly and allowed his eyes to drift closed once more. “Things may get a little delicate while we await your passport,” he mused. “I want you to go out today and buy yourself a new phone. No contract, just a short-term thing.”

  “You wanna be able to gimme booty calls, huh?” Michael snorted.

  “I want to be able to contact you and have you desert the penthouse if Laurence determines to visit. We are at a juncture where he will begin to move against Wilson soon, and that may involve him stopping over to discuss his plans.”

  Michael pulled back, so Frederick opened his eyes again. It wasn’t a retreat, merely distance to allow him to look up at Frederick properly.

  “You want me to clear out if Laurence comes here?”

  “Correct.”

  “Okay.” Michael’s head bobbed. “Where to?”

  “I will book another room. That way it’s a simple matter for you to pop down a couple of flights of stairs in an emergency.”

  Michael’s ruddy eyebrows shot up. “You’re gonna pay for a whole room just in case?”

  “One can never be too prepared,” he chuckled.

  “I guess.” Michael sat up slowly. “You think buying the house will make Wilson do something stupid?”

  “I hope so. If not, I intend to provoke him until he does.” He grinned and rolled onto his back. “Besides, Icky is almost entirely recovered now. From a concussion,” he added at Michael’s unspoken question. “Just one more facet
of this situation. Once he is thoroughly recovered he will have an argument with Laurence, they will clear the air, and then they will refocus their energies on Wilson.”

  Michael tilted his head and regarded him. “Just how far ahead do you plan?”

  Frederick shrugged. “Not too terribly far. Factors shift and change too quickly, and to be confined to a long-term strategy is to lose agility.”

  There was a short pause, and then Michael murmured, “Am I one of those factors?”

  “Of course.” Frederick sat up slowly and pushed sheets aside. “I must ensure your well-being throughout these other maneuvers until we are able to leave, after which things should proceed much more smoothly. We can leave once you are able to travel, and worry about the longer-term visa considerations once that is done.”

  “Right.”

  All due credit to Michael, he wasn’t at all hurt or upset by Frederick’s words. Instead he was turning his mind to how best he could clear out of the penthouse in a hurry.

  If I move the majority of my things to the new room, all I have to leave here with is what I’m wearing. Tidy up before I go if there’s time. That way none of my clothes are here. I dunno why Laurence might go nosing around the spare room, but like Frederick says, better safe than sorry. Then all I gotta do each day is go down and get changed. I can even get the laundry done from and sent back to that room to stop it coming here in the middle of the day.

  Sweet. Okay, that works.

  Frederick chuckled and reached out to ruffle Michael’s hair. “Breakfast,” he said. “And then I must go see how Icky is doing today.”

  “That’s your morning errand?”

  He nodded. “Icky has dogs, and I would vastly prefer to watch over him while Laurence walks them than to walk them myself. It’s better for Laurence, too, for him to have his own personal space. He does not do well cooped up indoors.”

  Michael eyed him with growing appreciation, then flashed a grin. “Okay. And…” His smile faltered. “Thanks. For…” He gestured to the bed between them.

  Frederick nodded. Michael need not say anything more. But it may be best for the time being not to emphasize his own physical superiority in the bedroom for a little while.

  “Go order breakfast,” was all he said.

  “Okay.”

  Michael slipped away to do as instructed, and Frederick remained in bed a few minutes more to try and work out whether the boy might actually be perfect.

  35

  FREDERICK

  His foresight came into effect almost a week later. As it transpired, Michael’s new phone proved unnecessary, as Frederick was in the penthouse when Laurence texted to see whether he was available.

  Michael moved without complaint, too. He swiftly erased all evidence of his presence, taking his coffee mug to the kitchen and rinsing it quickly, then he pocketed his phone and keycards. “That everything?”

  Frederick nodded. “Yes.” He escorted Michael to the door and kissed his cheek. “I shall call you once the coast is clear.”

  Michael slipped out, and the bodyguards outside headed off with him to the elevators, and then all Frederick had to do was arrange his desk area neatly and wait.

  LAURENCE ENTERED the penthouse some twenty minutes later, and Frederick led him toward the sofa. “Tea? Coffee?”

  “No thanks. I’m okay.” Laurence’s eye was drawn to the piles of folders neatly stacked along one edge of the dining room table. “Thanks for stopping by and visiting Quen. He was bored as hell. I think the visits did him good.”

  “Cognitive rest must be insufferable. Whatever I could contribute to a break in that monotony, I did so gladly.” Frederick paused midway to the dining room table and turned to face Laurence. “I presume he’s back firing on all cylinders, if you’re here now?”

  “Yeah.” Laurence gave a short nod. “He’s gone over to Wilson’s to get back into the swing of it. I’m kinda hoping you’ve made some progress in the past couple of weeks, though?”

  “Ah, yes.” His lips twitched. Laurence didn’t know the half of it. “Progress. Please, take a seat.” Frederick moved on to the table and sat on the side with all the folders.

  Laurence settled opposite him and regarded them.

  “I shan’t waste your time,” Frederick declared. “Nor will I be drawn into an argument on ethics. I have, over this past fortnight, hired an assortment of private investigators to take note of the comings and goings out of Kane’s mansion.” He didn’t hide his smugness. “Or should I say my mansion.”

  Laurence stared at him. “Since when?”

  “Since last week. It has taken me quite some time to track down the previous owner.” He might as well make himself sound impressive. “Russian oligarchs are ten a penny, and identifying the correct one in spite of data protection laws was rather trying, but I finally got a hold of him and convinced him to sell this squatter-infested mess to save him the trouble of dealing with it himself.” Frederick waved his hands a moment, palms up. “I may or may not have shown him photographs of the variety of indigents using his very expensive waterfront property as their home and wafted a sum of money under his nose to make the problem go away.”

  “You—” Laurence choked off his own words. “How much did it cost?”

  “Eighteen million dollars.” Frederick sniffed. He hadn’t paid anywhere near that much, but it was what the property had been valued at, so it was best to give Laurence no reason to investigate further. “Which is only just a little over thirteen million pounds. Not an inconsequential amount, but I would suggest that it is a bargain. The purpose, of course, is twofold.”

  “Right.” Laurence was rather too numb with shock to say more, the poor thing.

  “Firstly it gives us the ability to force Kane’s hand. When we wish him to mobilize, we will allow him to discover the change of ownership. In doing so, he may act without thinking and show his plans more overtly. And secondly, I am not willing to leave this city knowing that Icky is living in an dovecote. Once this is dealt with he will have a home which befits him considerably better than the hovel he is currently in. I cannot allow my brother to go on living as he is.”

  “You’re—” Laurence stopped himself and sorted through which objection he wanted to raise first. “You’re just gonna give him a place that cost eighteen million dollars?”

  Frederick snorted. “Heavens, no. I’m not a fool. But he can at least live in it. It’s an investment, dear boy, both toward my own portfolio and toward my brother’s reintegration to the real bloody world. But that was your intention also, when you bought him those dogs, wasn’t it? To nail him down, make him stay put for more than six months?”

  Laurence’s cheeks heated, and he wriggled in his chair. Images of sex acts he desperately wished Icky would perform flit through his head. “I wouldn’t say nail him down, exactly.”

  “No. But it was an excellent idea, and I think he will do better with a decent home to keep them in. Of course, I insist that you both sell all the god-awful furniture to fund a redecoration. From what I’ve seen it looks like a chintzy nightmare.”

  “It’s pretty fucking hideous, yeah.” Laurence grimaced, and then leaned forward. “Wait. How’d you get inside?”

  “I didn’t.” Frederick chuckled. “There were archived images from the previous sale available online. Really, the things one can find on the internet are ridiculous these days.”

  Laurence laughed. “Man, you guys are like apples and oranges.” He nodded to the folders. “Is this all the stuff from the investigators?”

  “Indeed. I had to instruct the various freelancers to keep a significant distance, and I swapped them over frequently so that none tailed the same target twice. I also kept them away from Wagner, since he is a trained combatant and therefore far more likely to be attentive in a public space.” Frederick flipped open files and passed a series of photographs in front of Laurence. “As we can see, Miss Torres likes to visit cash machines many times a day, all across the San Diego are
a. She has not thus far visited the same machine twice, but this was only a two-week observation period. Mr. Wilson himself likes to pop out to rob people early in the morning, and then to socialize of an evening. Quite heavily political socializing, I must add. He likes to mingle with the nouveau riches. The up-and-comers, people in relatively early stages of their political careers. I would suggest that he is forging alliances.” He gave Laurence a fleeting smirk. “It’s a good long-term strategy, and suggests that his goal is not one which will be achieved overnight.”

  Laurence skimmed the photos, then passed them back across the table. “What the hell is it he wants?”

  “Most of all he seems to like hobnobbing with those whose policies and alignments are to the left.” Frederick neatly arranged the images back into their respective folders. Printing them off had prevented Laurence from catching sight of anything he shouldn’t on Frederick’s laptop, but he did so despise the waste of paper. “Now, were I in his shoes and with his particular gift, and suspecting as we do that his goal is to reveal the existence of such gifts, then I would spend my time cementing my influence among those who already show a permissive and accepting outlook in their politics. Those who lobby for LGBT rights, for example, or who fight for universal health care. I would also spend a great deal of time then ensuring that those people got to positions of power so that, when I pull back the curtain, every single political structure already in place is ready to support me.”

  Laurence puffed his cheeks out and pushed his chair back from the table. “You think he’s trying to shape the political landscape of an entire city?”

  “An entire county. He isn’t restricting his movements to San Diego. He’s based himself in La Jolla.” Frederick tapped a folder with his index finger. “He’s chosen Southern California, already famed for its tolerance and gun control. He has chosen a location where the odds of getting shot at are markedly below those in other areas of the country, and where people are fairly liberal. The only trouble that I foresee is that he’s also selected a city which is home to major military installations, but then there would be uproar if the US Military operated on domestic soil, so maybe that is already a factor.” He hesitated. “There is a rather more troubling side to this.”