Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
ERIN
One night. No strings. No panties.
Then we never see each other again.
He didn’t have any rules when he met her. I guarantee their love didn’t start with a contract.
I push the thought away. I’m not the girl shaking in her stilettos anymore. It took two of us to break the rules he set for me that first night, two of us to build this tangled knot of who we are, together.
He was with me every shaky step of the way.
My entire world is about to shift.
Again.
And I need to stay focused.
We huddle together, staring at the monitoring screen hanging on the wall to the right of the locked door.
They’ve searched the car and the driver. They let them drive forward.
The back door of a silver SUV opens. A woman steps out. The world tilts.
Blood on creamy fabric. The woman standing in the snow has no fire around her.
Only cold.
A beautiful ice queen.
Her pale coat hangs from her thin frame. Her hair is darker than it looked on the camera, still blonde, pinned low in an elegant knot. Her cheekbones and jaw are cut into porcelain skin.
She looks toward the cabin. Toward us. I don’t even know if the camera goes both ways, if she can see us, but it feels like I know the moment she finds him.
Rafe says something unintelligible.
I go very, very still.
And the woman I thought was buried in ash lifts one trembling hand.
And waves.
Rafe asks, “Should we bring her in?”
“No,” Lucian says.
The word cracks through the room.
Everyone looks at him.
Even Isobel, outside on the camera feed, seems to pause as if she heard him through the walls.
Lucian’s face has gone hard. I can’t read his emotions. Finally, he says, “She does not enter this house. Not with Erin here.”
Blaze’s brows lift. “We’re interrogating her in the snow, then?”
Blaze doesn’t sound like he has any soft feelings towards her. That makes me feel better than it should. Petty.
Blaze cuts him a look. “We have cars. We have other buildings.”
Rafe says, “We’ll figure it out.”
Blaze lifts both hands. “Just checking logistics.”
Rafe looks at Lucian. Lucian stares at the screen. The beautiful woman stares back.
I feel my world crumbling.
“If Carlos sent her,” Rafe says, “then leaving her outside is exactly what he expects us to do. He wants chaos. He wants you to be reactive.”
“I’m not reactive,” Lucian growls.
Gregory, the little brother and the only one who could say something to him without being unalived, looks like he wants to speak some sense into Lucian. He runs a hand through his hair, deciding to stay quiet.
Unfortunately for Gregory’s brother, I haven’t formed that kind of restraint yet.
I glance at the screen again.
Isobel stands very still, trying not to let her shivering show. Snow clings to the hem of her coat.
But there is something else in her stillness. Not only fear. Not only cold.
Guilt.
Whatever haunted her was not only what Carlos had done to her. Some of it was what she had let him do.
She must be freezing. Annoyingly, that bothers me. These men are letting her stand on the porch while they argue, and it’s warm here.
I do not want to do it. But I’m a girl’s girl, and he asked me to trust him. She should come inside.
“She’s not dressed warmly enough,” I say. “You have to let her in.”
Lucian’s head snaps toward me.
The room goes silent.
I must be feeling courageous as well as generous with all those post-kissing goodies running through my blood.
“What?” I shrug, trying to look casual and not at all like a woman whose heart is being slowly dismantled by a dead ex-girlfriend with flowing golden mermaid hair, looking like she’s modeling her luxury outerwear. “It’s really, really cold out there.”
“She would know,” Blaze offers. “She spends enough time skulking behind the buildings.”
“That old story again,” I say. “We needed,” I clearly state, “kindling. Very badly.
I’m the reason you’re warm right now.”
Blaze laughs, and he’s generous enough not to mention the gas heat.
I can’t believe we’re joking. I should be crying. Lucian should be—I don’t know what he should be doing.
But all of us standing here in the foyer, staring at the girl on the screen is not it.
“I’ve worn enough fall-clearance-rack coats in a New York winter to know what cold looks like.”
I think of the inadequate coat I wore on that first night.
And how our relationship began.
Two desperate strangers.
Using one another to fill a need.
I wonder how he met Isobel, what their first conversation was about, where they went on their first date, where they had their first kiss.
I’m going to be sick.
I swallow down the nervous bile rising in my throat. She’s not getting any deader out there. I say, “She’s alive. She’s here. And she’s in the snow.”
“Erin.” Lucian snaps my name in half a syllable instead of one.
“What?” I say. “She is.”
Something flickers over Lucian’s face. I know that flicker. He’s angry that I’m still talking. And I’ve surprised him.
In the good way.
“She may be wired,” Bayne says.
“If she’s working for Carlos, she certainly is,” I answer. “Use it to your advantage.”
Bayne looks at me with new interest.
Maybe he’ll call me brave, too.
“Let her in,” I say, surprising even myself.
Lucian steps closer. “Do not advocate for a stranger who could be sent here to hurt you.”
“I’m advocating for a really skinny girl who, though she rocks the coat, is not dressed for the weather. Don’t leave her out there before we even know if she’s a victim or villain.”
“Erin.” Another growl, this one paired with a heated look I feel in my core. “Stop talking. Now.”
Blaze shoots a finger gun at me. “Your girl’s got a point.”
“Stop agreeing with her,” Lucian snaps.
“I see why you like her, but I’m still confused about what she sees in you,” Blaze jokes.
Bayne’s low voice makes an appearance. “Enough games.”
Gregory always chooses his timing carefully.
This is his time.
“Lucian,” he says slowly, with a voice tense enough to remind us all about Carlos. “The guards searched her. They didn’t find a wire. We need information. She has it. We control the environment, not him.”
“Gregory is right,” Rafe says. “There’s no sign of Carlos. But whether he sent Isobel here or not, he knows where we are. And we need to know where he is. And she might be able to tell us.”
Lucian directs his attention to Bayne. “What’s the report right now?”
Bayne answers Lucian, “There are no other vehicles in sight for miles.”
Gregory lists directions as casually as items on a grocery list. “Bring her in, search her, isolate the driver, lock down the perimeter.”
Lucian looks at the screen. At her. At Isobel. Not at me.
She’s wrapped her arms around herself, trying not to shiver.
The room waits. I hate that it is his decision. I hate that there is no good answer.
Either way, she’s real, alive, and here.
I want to cry. I want to throw up. And silly me, I’m still worried about her being cold.
This is his dead woman. His fire. His betrayal.
The reason for his nightmares.
Finally, he says, “Cass and Ryan stay put in the back bedroom, Mack with them.
Have the men search her again. Outside. No one speaks to her alone. No one gives her access to the rest of the house. She comes into the front room only.” He looks at me. “And you are nowhere near her.”
Everyone agrees to his terms except me.
Mack nods and heads toward Cass and Ryan, following Lucian’s command. Rafe steps outside for the second search.
The others do their thing.
While I do not.
I stand quietly by his side, attempting to shrink into the shadows so he forgets I’m still here.
The press of his cheek against mine. His warm breath caresses my ear. “I always know what you’re thinking.” A hand tightening around my wrist. “You will not be here when she comes in.”
“Lock me away up in that tower; I’ll let my hair down and get one of your porch dwellers to bring me in the front door.” I eye him. “They like me, you know. They might do me a favor.”
The look he gives me has me backtracking. Quickly.
“I’m joking about that. Obviously, you’re the only man to save me.” I stretch up, pecking a kiss on his cheek. “But I’m serious about being a part of the conversation. I’ve made that clear.”
“Have I not made my feelings about your safety clear enough?” He’s whisper-roaring. “The answer is no. Not that there is a conversation even to be had.”
He storms away. Far enough that he knows he won’t erupt. Close enough to get to me in two steps and tear me away to the bedroom.
I stand there, clearly impressing Bayne with my bravery, and cross my arms over my chest, making it clear to every man in the room: I’m not going anywhere.
Bayne returns from the porch. “All clear.”
“Let her in,” I say.
Bayne looks from me to Lucian, then back at me.
Lucian stares at me. We battle it out, eye to eye.
Blaze mutters, “Jesus, you two.”
“Fine.” Lucian returns to my side.
I breathe a sigh of relief.
Lucian looks at Bayne, his voice raking over coals. “You heard the wee tyrant.” He rethinks his position, moving in front of me, shoulders squared, ready to defend.
“Let her in.”
In only moments, our next threat will stand before us, and I’m not scared she’ll hurt me.
I’m terrified she’ll best me. And steal Lucian from me along with everything I thought we’d be.
After all, she was his first.
The front door opens.
Cold air rushes in.
Rafe enters first, then another man I don’t know. Maybe her driver? If he is, I’m surprised. The driver looks more like a Gregory than a Bayne.
Is he a decoy to put us off Carlos’s scent?
Two of our merry woodsmen come in.
They lead the driver away.
Then, Isobel.
The room changes. An energy shift. As if we’re all unconsciously making space for a mythical creature.
And she’s beautiful enough to be one.
A siren.
Isobel steps over the threshold with care, her gaze moving slowly around the room. They close the door behind her. She takes the men, the weapons, Rafe, Blaze, and Bayne.
Then Lucian.
She stops.
No one speaks.
I watch her face because I cannot bring myself to watch his.
Her expression fractures. Only a little. A crack in porcelain.
“Lucian,” she says.
His name in her mouth is familiar.