Nobody else was there. I decided to grab a cup of joe before going in search of Price. It was more medication than vice. I went to the sideboard and filled a cup, stirring in a healthy dose of sugar and cream. I inhaled the rich fragrance and sipped. Ambrosia.
“I think we should talk, don’t you?”
I jumped and gave a little shriek before spinning around. Coffee sloshed onto the thick blue and ivory rug. Gregg Touray stood just inside the doorway, looking malevolent. I could see the resemblance between him and Price. They both had black hair, pale skin, and a potent intensity that made it difficult to breathe around them. But where Price was like a mountain lion, Touray was more a bear. Slabs of heavy muscle bulged beneath his gray sweater. Lines fanned from around his hooded black eyes. Demons moved beneath the obsidian, inexorable and menacing. I forced myself not to squirm beneath his scrutiny.
“Couldn’t you warn a girl?” I demanded, looking for something to wipe up the mess. “Where did you come from, anyhow?”
“I was waiting for you,” he said, nudging his chin toward a chair in the corner I hadn’t noticed.
I set my mostly empty cup on the tray and grabbed a handful of napkins.
“Leave it,” he ordered. “Someone will take care of it later. We don’t have a lot of time. Your brother is eager to see you. He won’t wait much longer.”
“I’m surprised he isn’t knocking down the door,” I said, ignoring his orders and cleaning up what I could. Afterward, I prepared another cup of coffee. My stomach was doing flip-flops. I leaned back against the sideboard and eyed Touray over the rim of my cup.
He’d taken a seat in one of the cushiony chairs in the middle of the room. He watched me. His look sliced me like a scalpel, peeling me back to reveal my insides.
Even though I was determined not to, I broke the silence first. “Something in particular that you wanted?”
“Yes.”
I waited for him to clarify, edify, or otherwise explain, but he just kept looking at me with that smothering gaze. I sipped my coffee and forced myself to breathe.
“Sit down,” he said, pointing at the chair across from him, and then said, “please,” as an afterthought.
I topped off my coffee and obeyed. The truth was that he scared me almost as much as Percy did. They were peas in a pod: businessmen who didn’t mind killing and maiming to get what they wanted. Touray claimed that he was trying to stamp out the bloody territory wars that had been increasing among the Tyet over the last few years. For Price’s sake, I was trying to believe it, but mostly all I saw was a thug in a cashmere sweater.
He tipped his head. “You don’t like me much, do you?”
I cradled my coffee in my hands and hoped he couldn’t tell that I was shaking. “Can’t say I know you that well. What I do know I find . . . unpleasant.” Terrifying. Malevolent. “You did, after all, lock me in a cage and then tried to force me to work for you.”
He smiled. The expression sent a chill down my spine.
“Fair enough.” He said nothing after that, just watching me drink.
My heart revved into high gear, and my lungs contracted so that I could hardly breathe. “My, what big teeth you have,” I muttered.
“What did you say?”
I gave him a level look, deciding I might be afraid, but I didn’t have to be chicken. “I said, get on with it already. Flay me, fry me, fricassee me, but quit playing the menace-me-to-death game.”
“Fricassee you?” His brows rose, and he grinned. It changed his face. If he learned to do that all the time, he could hide his true nature. He’d be tearing out his enemies’ throats before they ever knew they were supposed to fear him.
“What?” he asked, reading more on my face than I wanted to show. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
You’d think I’d have learned self-preservation by now. I’d had years of successful practice, and Percy had definitely taught me a lesson on spouting stupid like Old Faithful spouts water. A lesson I clearly needed to work on because my mouth started moving before I could stop it. “When I first met you, when you had me locked in that cage and didn’t realize yet what I could do as a tracer, you decided to kill me. Do you remember?”
He cocked his head. “I don’t believe I ever said any such thing.”
Not denial. “You didn’t say it, but it was all over your face. Price was telling you how he’d hired me and how I’d got shot. Somewhere in there you figured out he had feelings for me, and you weren’t going to let some girl come between the two of you. Do you deny it?”
“All right. Suppose, for the sake of conversation, that I did make a decision to kill you. Obviously I didn’t. Water under the bridge, no harm no foul, and all that. What does it matter now?”
He might as well have been discussing his golf game or what he wanted for breakfast, for all the emotional investment he had in the subject. Ha! The subject. Killing me.
“It matters because you’re as cold-blooded as they come. Just because you haven’t killed me yet doesn’t mean you won’t get around to it today or tomorrow or next year. So don’t bullshit me with the friendly act. I don’t believe it anyway. I’d prefer you say what you came to say and then we can go to our separate corners and get on with the fight.”
“You’re very direct.”
I shrugged. “My mother was murdered before she could teach me tact. My dad didn’t seem to think it was a survival skill.”
Touray’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, you said you knew that I didn’t murder her. I didn’t realize I was a candidate. Explain.”
“When I was in the dreamspace, I had a vision of her murder. You starred as the killer.”
His brows rose almost to his hairline. “A vision? And me the murderer? Explain.”
Even the thought of replaying the killing of my mother made my stomach churn. “I’d rather wait until I can tell everyone at once. Maybe we should do that now. Where’s Price?”
“I haven’t seen him since I left him with you.”
Crap. I started to get up. “I’d better find him.”
“Clay’s in love with you,” Touray said baldly.
That took the air right out of me. I sank back down and drew in a slow breath, trying to ease my impending stroke. I cataloged my symptoms: adrenaline rush, spinning head, dry mouth, pounding heart, trolls dancing on my bladder, and a desperation to dig a hole and climb inside. People paid a lot of money to feel this way. They jumped out of planes and climbed mountains without ropes and swam with sharks. I was getting the thrill of walking on the edge of life and death for free.
“So he tells me,” I said, eying Touray warily.
“My brother has always been self-contained. He relies only on himself,” he went on as if I hadn’t spoken. “His romantic entanglements have always been strictly physical. When I first met you, I assumed it was business as usual. You had little enough in common. You both found yourselves in a dire situation. It is unsurprising you fell into bed. A physical outlet relieves stress, and no doubt it was enjoyable for you both. At any rate, when you cut ties six weeks ago, I expected he’d forget you and move on. I was”—he waved a hand at an invisible fly—“incorrect.”
He paused like he was expecting a response. I had nothing. I just nodded. That was safe enough.
“He’s hurting. I don’t like to see him hurting.” He scowled.
I could get behind that. I licked my lips. “Me neither.” I could have said something about him being the wedge driving me and Price apart, but that elephant was already stomping around the room.
He looked down at his hands, opening and closing them in his lap. “I believe you share my brother’s feelings, but obviously have your doubts about me. I want to clear any obstacles you may have imagined.”
He leaned forward. I leaned back. I couldn’t help it. The man may not have i
ntended to be threatening, but he was still doing a good job of it.
“Let me make myself very clear so there’s no possibility of misunderstanding: while you are with my brother, you are family. I assure you that you have nothing to fear from me. No harm will come to you from me, and I will protect you as I would Clay.” His lips curved in a scythe smile. “Whether you like it or not.”
Oh. Fuck. I suppressed my whimper. You’d think having him on my side would make him less scary. Nope. Not even a little. “I don’t need protecting.”
He lifted a brow. “No?”
“No.” I wished my response didn’t sound so much like a question.
He tipped his head. “Odd. From the story that Leo and Madison have been telling about your adventures underground, I would have argued otherwise.” Again that taunting smile. He’d moved on from his guilt over me and Price and was enjoying messing with me.
Stress destroys any filter on my mouth I might ordinarily lay claim to. “I’m sure you have dicey moments in your line of work,” I said. “Do you have a nanny running around after you keeping you from running out into the street?”
“So you admit you were in danger?”
“Duh. Of course I was. In fact, you have no idea,” I said airily. “Leo and Madison don’t even know. Suicide was starting to look like a good option.”
He blinked, his arrogance unsettled by my ready admission. A predatory tension ran through his body, like he was readying himself to strike. “So you agree you need protection.”
“Nope. Though I could use a small army. Got one of those I could borrow for a bit?”
His brows drew together. I’d thrown him off balance again. I took no small measure of pride in that. I had a feeling it wasn’t easy to surprise him.
“I don’t understand.”
“You said Leo and Madison filled you in. I’m assuming they told you about her uncle.”
He nodded. “Percy Caldwell.”
“Actually, it’s George Percival James Borden Caldwell the fourth. I might be missing a name or two. I was a little out of it when I met him, and he was burning me with cigarettes. That hurts, by the way.”
In the space of a breath, he went from calm to nova. The rage roiling inside him stole the oxygen out of the air. His eyes went feral and deadly. It was like staring down an F5 tornado. My stomach curled in fear. Every instinct I had told me to flee, to get out of his way. If he reacted this way, what was Price going to do? And Leo?
“He what?” he said, leaning forward, his voice grating like tearing metal.
I pressed back against my seat, wishing I’d kept my mouth shut, at least until I had friends in the room.
“He wanted to teach me a lesson. So he burned my arms. I used a heal-all. I’m fine. All better. No worries.”
“I will cut him open and strangle him with his own intestines,” Touray said in a toneless voice.
I had a bad feeling he wasn’t exaggerating. “Feel free,” I said, collecting myself. “He needs to be dead.” I raised a brow at him. “If you don’t change your mind.”
“Why would I? I told you; you’re family. No one touches you and lives.”
Just what I needed: a new big brother with a homicidal streak. “Did Madison tell you what he’s up to?” I asked.
His scowl deepened as I shifted the subject. “He makes Sparkle Dust. Not exactly news to me.”
“Do you know how he makes it?” I hoped not. Because whatever respect I could ever have for him hinged on that answer.
He shook his head. “No one knows the secret.” He leaned forward again, eyes lasering through me. “I take it you do know?”
“I know enough to want to drop a nuclear bomb into the tunnels to put a stop to it.” My jaw jutted. “I’d like to think you weren’t interested in taking over his business.”
Touray recoiled. His cheeks flushed red, and if I thought he was pissed before, I was wrong. He thrust out of the chair and leaned over me, bracing his hands on the arms of my chair so that I couldn’t escape. He dropped his head so that we were nose to nose. His eyes glittered like black diamonds. It was all I could do not to slide down into the chair.
“Never, ever, suggest to me or anyone else that I support or condone the SD trade,” he said, though I’m not sure how he was able to get the words out through his clenched teeth. “I will forgive you your ignorance once, but never again. Understand?”
“Because we’re family now and you’ll protect me unless I piss you off?” Oh, good, Riley. Way to poke the raging bear with a sharp stick. Maybe I should just have my mouth sewn shut. It would probably add years to my life.
He jerked away, his chest heaving as he stood above me. His hands clenched and unclenched, and I was pretty sure he was wishing they were around my throat. I stared up at him, refusing to back down now that I’d walked across the coals this far. You were supposed to be able to trust family not to kill you when you pissed them off. It was time for him to put his money where his mouth was.
For a second I wanted to giggle. I mean, talk about jumping on the trust wagon with both feet. First I ask Price to move in with me, and then I piss off his merciless and cold-blooded brother and expect him not to hurt me hard. At least I should get points for style.
Finally, he looked up at the ceiling and drew a breath, letting it out slowly. Then he shocked the hell out of me.
“I was wrong. You are perfect for Clay.”
“Say what, now?”
“I understand now why Price could fall so hard for you,” he said. “You are his match. Just as hardheaded, and brave, as well.”
He took my cold coffee and set it aside, pouring me a fresh cup and adding cream and sugar in near perfect amounts. He’d been paying attention. He handed it to me, then poured himself a cup, no cream, no sugar. Nothing to sweeten his personality. He sat back down, leaning back and crossing his legs like he hadn’t just threatened my life. He ran his fingers through his short hair, making it stand up.
“I apologize for losing my temper. I abhor the Sparkle Dust trade more than I can say. I’d like nothing more than to shut it down, permanently.” He paused. “If you know how it’s made, then you know how to stop it. I need to know that. Will you tell me?”
Trust was a two-way street. Three-way, now that it wasn’t just Price and me. I nodded. “I will.”
He eyed me, the fingers of his left hand tracing a pattern on the arm of the chair. He must have read the doubt in my voice. “You really do have a low opinion of me, don’t you?”
I laughed at his surprise. “Shouldn’t I? Look at your track record with me.”
“Maybe I can change your mind.”
That sobered me. He was going to be a fixture in my life now. Family. The word finally sank in. Christmas and Easter and the Fourth of July. “Fuck me,” I muttered, rubbing my forehead.
He chuckled, and I glared at him. “You think that’s funny? Guess what, buddy. If I’m stuck with you, you’re stuck with me. Your friends will be mortified.”
“My friends, such as they are, will be delighted. If not, they can go to hell with my blessing. Clay has been miserable since the two of you split. I want my brother happy; you make him happy. End of story.”
That’s when I remembered the way Price had walked out on me. I sat up straight, sloshing hot coffee onto my legs. I didn’t notice. “What the hell have I been doing? We have to find him!”
I leaped up. I hadn’t gone two steps before he grabbed my arm and jerked me around to face him. His face had gone thunderous. “What’s going on?”
“I told him about Percy. I think Price might be going after him on his own.” If he was caught, if he was fumed—“Let me go!” I jammed my hand against Touray’s chest to help lever me away. It was like wrestling with the Hulk.
He grabbed my other ar
m and gave me a hard shake. It rattled my teeth. “Calm down. Tell me what happened.”
“There’s no time! Price can’t go after him alone.” Panic had set in. I was shouting. I kicked at his shins and twisted away. “Let me go!”
A blur thrust between us. I heard the sound of a fist hitting flesh. Suddenly I was free of Touray’s grip. I staggered back and fell over a table. Sharp pain bit into my thigh and shoulder as I went ass over teakettle. More thuds and grunts and a crash as bodies crashed into a table. Wood splintered and glass shattered. I scrambled to my feet.
Price and Touray were locked together. Price’s face was twisted with animal fury. Touray was holding on to him in a bear hug, trying to keep Price from punching him.
Price must have seen Touray grabbing me and had put two and two together and come up with his brother attacking me. Which, technically, was sort of true. Touray had been worried about Price, though, so I could forgive him. Not that he’d hurt me. Maybe a couple bruises on my arms and a little bit of whiplash. I could live with those. But I couldn’t let Price go after his brother. He wouldn’t forgive himself later.
I jumped out of the way as the two of them barreled past. “Hey!”
They didn’t notice me. I wasn’t about to jump between them. I may not be the smartest bulb in the box, but I did have some sense of self-preservation. I grabbed a pillow and smacked at them to no effect. Price was still wearing his gun in his shoulder holster. What if he decided to use it? That spurred me to think creatively. I resorted to a movie scream. I braced myself, sucked air deep into my lungs, and screamed with all the force I had.
That got Price’s attention.
He shoved his brother away and whirled to find me. He put one hand on my shoulder and pushed my hair away from my face with the other. He looked me over from head to toe. “Are you okay?”
“Are you insane?” I put my hands on his hips and curled my fingers through his belt loops. “You just mauled your brother.”
He cupped his hand around my neck, his thumb rubbing gently along my cheekbone. “Did he hurt you?”
Edge of Dreams Page 18
