Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
I rocked back on my heels, knowing he was right. Who didn’t keep their laptops in their bedroom? No one. We’d have to tiptoe right past her.
“That just means she’ll lead us right to it,” I tried to say confidently. “Let’s go in. Help me up.”
Cato bent, grabbed me around the knees, and lifted me up with barely a flex of his muscles. I popped out the screen and carefully dropped it on the soft chaise. This was it. Now or never.
Taking a breath, I widened the window opening and wiggled through. I dropped flat on my cushioned landing pad—hardly believing it was that easy. I was in.
I spun and reached out for Cato. My phone buzzed against my hip. I helped him in, then pulled it out.
An email? I read the address twice and no familiarity bells rang. Who was this? Why didn’t spam eat this up?
Time’s almost up. Meet me at the Bluffs.
I’m sure you’ll do the right thing.
-Wolf
My lips peeled back from my teeth. Everything in me wanted to write a thirty-page reply on what a low-down piece of trash he was, but my not showing up to his little blackmail meeting would get the message across clear enough.
“Let’s go,” I whispered.
Cato and I padded out of the library. I didn’t know what was on his mind. Likely, excitement about how he’d get to commit his favorite crime: arson.
We came out and followed the same bend in the walls leading to the kitchen. Cato left his pack behind. The clanging torch cans would give us away in an instant.
Inside, the mansion was twice as impressive. It had nothing on the Burkhardt mansion and the nauseating boasts of wealth everywhere you looked. On the contrary, there was something warm and homey about the shiny juniper pine walls and cool stone beneath my feet. It felt like a place for a family.
A father and daughter.
My back pressed tighter to the wall. Points for me that I wasn’t shaking the whole house with how hard my rib cage was rattling. A shadow moved in the light. Everleigh was still in the kitchen. Cheek touching the wall, I glanced around—
“Luna Sinclair.”
My heart jumped out of my throat.
Cato grabbed me from behind and spun. No way she was catching us without a weapon while she stood in a room full of knives!
“A know-nothing little weakling who was smart enough to fuck powerful guys. She’s not a threat by herself. She’s just very irritating bait.”
We jerked to a halt. What?
“Wilder O’Rourke isn’t a threat anymore. If he could’ve dug up dirt on me, I wouldn’t have had to give up my side project by myself. Wolf will make sure the paranoid freak can’t find another way to get at me.”
Chancing it, I crept back and glanced around the wall. Everleigh moved around the kitchen, making a late-night snack while she talked to herself.
No— While she took voice notes on her phone.
“She got Alistair Burkhardt here, but now he’s holed up in Burkhardt Manor and knows that I’m coming for him. I’ve already been taken off their allowed-visitors list.”
She dropped the frying pan on the stove a little too hard. “As long as Sinclair is running around, I can still use her to draw him out. But as long as she is surrounded by those fools, she’s impossible to get to. Leon Dumont won’t be taken off guard twice.”
Cato and I exchanged a silent look. We weren’t the only ones plotting that night.
“Wolf can take care of his brother. Cato Dumont is nothing more than a rabid dog. I’ll throw something shiny and he’ll chase after it.”
Cato grinned. Dear Thor, it looked like he loved that description.
“Rafael Dumont, Lucien Calais, and Victor Wilson... they’re a problem.”
Everleigh gave me her back and faced the stove. I stuck my head out farther, getting a lay of the land.
We were in the center of the mansion. Kitchen, living room, dining area, massive stone fireplace, and another sitting area. On the other side of her and the kitchen was the entrance to the east wing of the mansion.
“Note,” she said. “Look through the T.O.D. members for people who have the balls to go up against Calais. Actually, look for ten. If it comes to a fight, I’ll make sure he doesn’t walk away from it.”
My nails pierced my palm. Once a coldhearted bitch, always a soul-sucking, motherfucking, coldhearted bitch.
“Note,” she continued. “Victor Wilson has to go. Question is how. Too many people like Victor. He’s nice to the Dregs and doesn’t use his power over the Royals. No one will want to hurt him for any price. Him, I might have to take care of myself.”
Cato tugged my arm, making me turn around. He gestured with his chin.
His unspoken suggestion was right. Instead of standing around listening to her make plans that would never come true, we should use this opportunity to search for the laptop.