Guild of Secrets

by Shannon Lynn Cook

  And that’s a weird thought considering I broke up with his brother not two hours ago. Maybe I’m as bad as Finn.

  “No.” I hold out my hand, silently telling her she can continue.

  Then, like a wicked pixie, she answers the call and hits speaker. I widen my eyes, silently telling her I can’t believe she did that. She bites her lip and grins before she gets back to work.

  “Hello, Gray,” I say, sounding…weird.

  “Where are you?” he demands. “I need—”

  “I’m at a nail appointment,” I quickly interrupt before he can say something Cheyenne shouldn’t hear. “I can’t hold the phone right now, so you’re on speaker.”

  There’s silence on the other line, and I can practically feel his scowl.

  “Gray?”

  “I didn’t dismiss you earlier.”

  Even though Cheyenne is right here, I narrow my eyes at the phone. “I don’t remember being told I need to be dismissed.”

  “You do,” he practically growls. “I need you to come back to the guil—office.”

  “Of course. First thing tomorrow.”

  “Madeline.” The way he says my name makes me think he’s clenching his jaw and wishing he was saddled with another girl—any other girl.

  “Fine,” I say with a drawn-out sigh. “I’ll be another thirty minutes here, and then I’ll head your way.”

  “Now.”

  “I can’t leave with a half-finished manicure.”

  “But you can leave with a half-finished job?”

  Clever.

  “Goodbye, Gray.” I pull my hand from Cheyenne and end the call.

  When I look up, I find her watching me with an owl-eyed expression that slowly morphs to a cat grin. “Quite the work ethic you have there, Madeline.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “He sounds hot.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Oh, come on—admit it. You want him, don’t you?”

  I want to strangle him. How’s that?

  “No.”

  Even though it's obvious she doesn't believe me, she changes the subject. “So what’s this job anyway?”

  And this is the part where I try to figure out how much I should tell her.

  “It’s complicated.”

  She levels me with a stare that says she’s not going to let it go.

  “I’m working with a team of… Well, for lack of a better word, you could call them bounty hunters. I’m basically there to write the reports, make sure they’re following all the rules.”

  Her jaw drops. “Bounty hunters?”

  In the human world, I would not be bounty hunter material. (Nor would I want to be.) Who am I fooling? I’m not knight marshal material in my world either.

  “I thought you wanted to work with your father at his law firm,” she says.

  Law firm—aka, the Royal Guild.

  “I am, in a roundabout way. This is another branch. I have to work a while to get into the position I want.”

  Or until I find a wealthy lord to marry who doesn’t have an affinity for multiple girlfriends. Then I can be done with this working thing altogether. Instead, I’ll do charity work and start random foundations, such as Homes for Gnomes or Aparians Against the Unfair Treatment of Sprites. (I have it on good authority that they don’t have any rights.) And I will never, ever, have to shock a troll again.

  It takes Cheyenne twenty-seven minutes to finish my nails, and the entire time, I dodge questions I don’t know how to answer.

  Gray calls again just as I’m pulling into the Royal Guild parking lot. “Where are you?” he barks.

  “I’m here.” I throw the car into park, pausing for just a moment to admire my nails and then check my makeup. I’m just applying another coat of lip gloss when a knock on my window makes me shriek and drop the phone.

  I look over, brandishing the lip gloss wand like a weapon, and find the bane of my existence scowling at me.

  Rolling my eyes, I push the door open, purposely knocking it into Gray. “What could possibly be so important you’re stalking me in the parking lot?”

  All right. I know I’m acting like a spoiled brat, but I did just break up with my boyfriend—or whatever you want to call Finn—and I’m the tiniest bit emotional. So what if that emotion comes out as anger instead of tears? We all grieve in our own way.

  “We have a job,” Gray says, shutting my car door as soon as I’m clear. “I want to be on the road in less than an hour.”

  I turn to him. “But…we just got back from a job.”

  Maybe it’s the genuine exhaustion he sees in the slump of my shoulders, or the defeated way I stare at him, but his stormy blue eyes lose a little of their ice.

  “This is what we do, princess. We travel—a lot. All across the states.”

  “Where to this time?”

  “Lake Tahoe.”

  I nibble my lip, trying to recall where that’s at. California, I think. Right on the Nevada border. There are a lot of casinos in the area.

  Instantly, I wonder if this has to do with the man Gray put in prison a few years ago. Maybe it’s just a coincidence, maybe the man Finn was speaking of ran a casino out of Las Vegas or Reno or closer to home in nearby Blackhawk. But it feels connected.

  “Who are we after?” I ask cautiously, not wanting Gray to think I know too much.

  “There’s a pixie who’s taking out bank tellers in South Lake Tahoe. He then impersonates them and steals bank customers’ private information to sell on the black market. Each day, it’s a new bank and a new teller.”

  Pixies are five-foot, trouble-making changelings who often don a human or Aparian form—any form they like. If you saw one walking down the road in their natural state, you might mistake them for a young teen, but they can live to be over a hundred and fifty years old. In addition to their ability to mimic people, they carry a whole arsenal of unsavory magic—sleeping spells and paralyzing charms being the most inconvenient by far.

  Like members of the Fox faction, they’re not all bad. Just most of them.

  “Taking out?” I ask. “What does that mean?”

  “He’s killing them.”

  All right then.

  I cross my arms. “How did the guild find out?”

  “One of his ‘associates’ ratted him out for the reward.”

  It’s like our version of Crime Stoppers—snitch on your friend, collect a thousand bucks.

  Gray grows impatient, and I doubt he’ll answer any more questions until we’re on the road. “I’ll follow you home,” he says, “and then after you’ve packed, I’ll drive us back to the guild. That way you don’t have to leave your car here.”

  “How long are we going to be gone?” I ask, automatically thinking of the spa day I have booked for Sunday.

  “Likely a week, give or take a few days.”

  “A week?”

  “It’s not so bad. You’ll probably have a chance to use your Taser again. You seem to enjoy that.”

  I study him. “Was that you trying to make a joke?”

  He smirks and jerks his head toward the car. “Get in. Let’s go.”

  Wondering why we didn’t just meet at my house to save time, I reluctantly get back in the car. I don’t bother to wait for Gray. He obviously knows where I live, considering he’s found his way there several times.

  Lillian’s little red sports car is parked in the back, so I call a greeting as I step through the back door and into the breakfast nook off the kitchen. She doesn’t answer, so she must be in the western end of the house, near my father’s office and the guest rooms.

  The doorbell chimes as I set my keys on the granite counter. I walk through the front, expecting Gray. Instead, I find a man in a business suit. It takes me a moment, but I realize he’s the same guy I saw in Finn’s office the other day.

  “May I help you?” I ask.

  The stout man watches me with the strangest look. It’s intense and unsettling. Finally, he says, “You’re Kenneth and
Penny’s daughter?”

  Manners dictate that I should invite him in, but he’s giving off a seriously creepy vibe.

  “Yes…”

  He studies me, his eyes seeming to commit every plane of my face to memory. After a few awkward moments, he says, “You don’t look like either of them.”

  My hand tightens on the side of the open door, and I narrow my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  Which translates to “what's it to you?”

  “Are your parents home?”

  A funny feeling settles in my stomach. Something tells me I shouldn’t answer.

  Just as I’m trying to figure out a way to respond which won’t tell him I’m alone, a sleek, midnight blue muscle car with a convertible top pulls into the paved circular drive, just behind the man’s black Cadillac. It’s old, but it looks brand new. I frown, wondering who in the world it could be.

  Looking slightly irritated, the man on the step turns to face the car as well.

  Gray steps out and pulls off his sunglasses. He meets my eyes and then frowns at the man. He then proceeds to walk our way, ambling up the entry steps like he’s a regular visitor.

  Instantly, my tensed muscles relax. When he reaches us, he jerks his chin to the man in a silent greeting.

  The man steps back, an enigmatic look on his face.

  “Hey, Maddie,” Gray says, adopting Eric’s nickname for me, and steps to my side, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

  Because I’m grateful for his presence, I lean into him like he’s my oldest and dearest friend.

  “I won’t waste any more of your time, Maddie,” the man says. “I’ll come back sometime when your parents are home.”

  “Madeline,” I correct, hoping he'll think Gray and I are close and that’s why the Wolf is allowed the nickname—because my parents are across the sea, in a different continent, and this man is freaking me out in a big way.

  The man’s eyes flash with dark humor as if he can read my mind. “Of course. Madeline.”

  He then turns down the steps, heading for his car. Gray stands by my side, and we stay in the entry until the man’s car disappears down the road.

  “Who was that?” Gray asks as soon as he’s gone, dropping his arm and stepping away.

  I roll my shoulders, shaking off the last of the tension. “I have no idea.”

  “What did he want?”

  “If I had to guess? I’d say he wanted to kidnap me and throw me in the back of his trunk.” I try to laugh, though I’m still unsettled.

  The look that flashes over Gray’s face is hard, and he stares down the road, in the direction the man went.

  Worried he’s going to go after him, I nudge his shoulder. “Nice car.”

  “It’s not just a car,” he says absently. “It’s a ‘70 LS5 Chevelle SS, fully restored.”

  I have no idea what any of that means, but it sounds fancy.

  Gray glances at me before he looks back at the road and says wryly, “You didn’t seem to like the truck.”

  “You could tell? I thought I hid my disdain.”

  He snorts, but I can tell he’s still preoccupied.

  “Did you do the work yourself?”

  “Most of it.”

  “Are you thirsty?” I ask, touching his arm. “Lillian usually keeps a fresh pitcher of lemonade in the fridge.”

  Finally, Gray turns his eyes on me, and a smile flickers over his face. “You must be spooked. You’re being nice to me.”

  I laugh and tug his arm, leading him into the house, determined to keep him close until we leave. “Don’t get used to it.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “You didn’t use your blinker,” I tease Jonathan as he changes lanes. “And you should probably get into the far right lane, don’t you think?”

  From the front, Eric barks out an abrupt laugh. Even Gray smirks.

  “Is there a reason you’re critiquing my driving?” Jonathan asks, sounding less than amused.

  “I thought that was my job. Making sure you guys obey the rules.”

  “Royal Guild rules,” Jonathan says, his tone nearly expressionless. “Not the rules of the road.”

  I’ve spent most of the last two days in the car reading the ledger, memorizing all the statutes and regulations. But now I'm bored to death, so I’m entertaining myself by pestering Jonathan.

  We get a few moonlit glimpses of Lake Tahoe as we make our way up Highway 50, heading toward South Lake Tahoe, where we’ll be staying for the next week or so.

  Gray assured me our accommodations will be adequate. We’ll see.

  Finally, we pull into a massive condominium that looks like a gigantic ski lodge. It’s landscaped with pines and mountain flowers, and there’s lighting along a paved walking trail that disappears around the back.

  Jonathan pulls up to the front, and the valets hurry to assist us.

  Yes, this should do.

  “The guild is willing to pay for this?” I ask Gray.

  “Holiday weekend. Everything else was booked up.”

  Thank goodness for holidays.

  The valet is close to my age, with blond hair and a friendly smile that he directs right at me. “May I assist you with your luggage?”

  “Absolutely.” Gray shoves a huge duffel bag into the guy’s arms. “Thanks for asking.”

  Looking like he wants to grumble, the bellboy dumps the duffel on the trolley and moves to the back of the Hummer to assist Jonathan.

  “I believe he was talking to me,” I whisper to Gray, raising my eyebrows.

  He gives me a strange, almost knowing look. “Yes, but you’re dating my brother, remember?”

  A sharp stab of sadness makes me pause, but I brush it off. “How could I forget?”

  That’s right—I don’t correct Gray. Why? I have no idea, but it seems safer to let him think I’m still with Finn. As much as I irritate him, I can’t help but think he’s still easier on me because of his brother.

  We walk inside, and Gray speaks with the man at the front counter. The check-in process is simple, as the guild has already taken care of payment, and the man instructs the bellboy to take our things to the Emerald Bay Suite.

  Jonathan and Eric follow him, but I pull Gray back. “Suite? As in singular?”

  Gray’s eyes sweep over my face, amusement tugging at his lips. “You can take the room.”

  “Where will you and the guys sleep?”

  He shrugs. “Couch, floor. It doesn’t matter.”

  I trail after them, barely noticing the resort. We’re on the fifth floor, toward the middle of the hall, not far from the elevator.

  Two girls in their early twenties turn the corner ahead of us. They’re dressed in bikini tops and shorts, and they’re carrying towels and beach totes. Obviously, they’re headed for a lake party.

  They nearly drool all over themselves when they lay eyes on the members of my team.

  “Hey,” the taller of the two says. She’s wearing cheap sandals, but the sunglasses pushed in her brunette hair are the real deal.

  Jonathan gives them a slightly crooked grin and raises his eyebrows in appreciation. “Hey.”

  Eric stands a little straighter and makes eyes at the second girl. She’s short, maybe five-two tops, but she doesn’t seem intimidated by the Norse god lookalike. Not at all.

  “We haven’t seen you around. What room are you staying in?” she asks.

  Jonathan answers, and the four begin a conversation. Gray, looking impatient, keeps walking, not bothering to participate. Feeling awkward, I follow him.

  “Hey, Gray,” Jonathan calls as we stop in front of our door. “You coming? Party by the lake?”

  “No.”

  “What about you, Maddie?” Eric asks.

  I shake my head, not in the mood to be social. “Not tonight, thanks.”

  Jonathan extends his hands in front of him, palm up. “Is it cool, boss? Can we go?”

  Gray flashes the pair a look over his shoulder, but he waves them off anyway. Takin
g that as permission, Eric and Jonathan tell the girls they’ll be right back and barely wait for Gray to open our door so they can stash their stuff in the entry and hightail it back to the waiting girls.

  Before he leaves, Jonathan grabs my arm and leans close to my ear. “Don’t kill each other, okay?”

  “I’ll do my best,” I mutter.

  And then they’re gone, leaving me alone with Gray.

  I pull my suitcase into the room and flip on the lights, taking in our new residence for the next week. Someone must have left the thermostat set at “Arctic” because it’s freezing. There’s a door to the right, leading to the bedroom. In the central living area, there are two couches, an entertainment center with a decent-sized flat screen TV, a desk and chair, and a kitchenette with microwave.

  The entire room is done in shades of white and beige, and the wood is dark. The art on the wall is a black and white photograph of the lake. All in all, it’s not too shabby.

  “Well, princess?” Gray asks, already adjusting the thermostat. “Is it up to your standards?”

  “It’s nice.” After I set Charles free, I pick up a pamphlet on the desk and read about the local attractions and restaurants.

  Gray tosses his suitcase on a couch and walks around, taking it all in. With each passing minute, I swear the room shrinks.

  Finally, he looks over. “Are you hungry?”

  It’s well after nine, but it’s a Friday night, and we’re close enough to the casinos that we shouldn’t have any trouble finding a restaurant. But if it’s just Gray and me, does that make it a date?

  “I try not to eat after seven,” I tell him.

  He gives me the strangest look. “Why?”

  “It’s not good for your digestion.”

  “Neither is not eating…because then you won’t have anything to digest.”

  I smile because we’ve been on an unspoken truce since Gray saved me from the strange man who dropped by my house yesterday, and I don’t want to start fighting again. Also, I really don’t want Gray to start questioning me about my magic—a subject he’s surprisingly dropped.

  “Come on,” he says, his tone light and friendly. “Let’s walk around, do a little sightseeing before we have to work tomorrow.”