Epilogue
IVY
“I hate these kinds of parties,” I moaned, walking around the room on each of their arms in turn as they allowed me to show them off like prized show dogs. Even Jackal was on his best behavior as people as powerful as the Mayor himself waltzed through the doors of the event of the season.
Lilly St. Clair held a black-tie gala every year to commemorate the creation of the Guild. She charged at the door for anyone not a member of this exclusive group. The proceeds went to charities she approved of, and people clamored for the chance to get a glimpse of the secretive asylum and its residents—to rub elbows with criminals.
I’d shaken a million and one hands, introducing myself and my dogs to every unfamiliar face at the behest of our benefactress and boss, Lilly herself. But my patience was growing thin, and Jackal’s side chatter was growing increasingly naughty. He was on the fast track to being punished, and if I weren’t careful, he’d likely pull his dick out right here in front of the mayor just to get my attention.
Time to make the last rounds, boys.
I rounded all three up and made one last round, thanking people for visiting us and supporting a good cause because it was a song and dance I knew well. My mother even paid for a ticket, though she wasn’t sure she could bring herself to attend. Now, she and Roscoe stood by the punch bowl with Lilly, making small talk like old friends.
Dingo glanced at me, then followed my gaze with his eyes. A strong arm went around my back, comforting me subconsciously. “You still on uneven ground with her?”
“I don’t know,” I said smoothly, wishing I knew how to answer that question. “But I’m ready to get tonight over with. This dress is too tight.” I waggled my eyebrows at him suggestively. “It looks better on the floor than it does on me.”
“Debatable,” he muttered, just as Coyote rounded the table we stood by and leaned in to sniff my hair again.
“You smell divine,” he growled, his hand settling on my elbow. ‘Time to go?”
“It fucking better be,” Jackal sassed, stepping in front of me with a sneer. “I’ve rubbed elbows with these assholes for long enough.”
Just then, a voice called out from behind me, one I’d never forget for as long as I lived.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Miss Cullough herself.”
My blood ran cold. Time stopped.
That voice belonged to the man who’d almost landed me in an auction house years ago. It was in the video my mother took from the couch as she lost her dignity on the carpet of my father’s study.
I turned, pasting a fake smile on my face that more closely resembled a wolf’s warning snarl, and offered my hand. “I’m sorry, and you are?”
His hand enveloped mine, and I fought off the wave of nausea that rose in my stomach when he tugged me closer and ran his thumb along my wrist. “Aw, no need to play coy, girl. You remember me. I was a friend of your father’s.”
He must not know I was here as a member of the Guild. And because I’d forgotten my pin in Jackal’s bathroom, I wasn’t wearing it. I couldn’t be identified as one of them.
“I’m sorry, but your name escapes me,” I tittered, hoping the guys would play along.
“Michael McDowth. We worked closely on a pet project of your dad’s.” He tugged a woman over beside him who’d been trying desperately to hide behind his bulky frame. “And this is my wife, Juniper.”
Juniper.
I froze, all the air fleeing my lungs.
Juniper.
“Gotta find Juniper. Have to find junipers. If they kill me, please . . . find Juniper. ”
For as long as I lived, I’d never forget that voice, that plea.
Was this the Juniper?
“June is fine,” she breathed, offering me her frail, gaunt hand. I took it gently, staring into her eyes, searching for answers to questions I hadn’t yet formed in my mind. She gave away nothing, ever the poised socialite wife. “Nice to meet you, Ivy.”
I nodded politely as Jackal reached forward and took my hand from hers, guiding me away with a hand on the small of my back. “Sorry, but she’s promised to dance with me, and I think I hear my song coming on. So nice to meet you.”
He effortlessly ended the conversation and guided me out of the room, not stopping until we reached the outer hall, empty save for the four of us.
I gasped for air, suddenly feeling like the whole world was crushing me. My pupils dilated, breathing was hard. I felt light-headed, the world around me spun, and I just barely managed to make it to a nearby trash can before I puked.
Dingo’s hand on my back was a comforting sensation, something warm, familiar. “Hey there, what’s got you so riled up?”
“That man,” I gasped, words failing me. “Bad.”
“That man is one of the biggest pieces of shit on the city council,” Jackal muttered, his lips drawn together in a mou of displeasure. “Michael McDowth. Pure scum. Some say his wife was an arranged marriage, but she acts more like a battered bride to me.”
The room spun, and I reached out for something to steady myself on as I took deep breaths through my nose and let them out my mouth, determined not to puke again. “He was on the flash drive,” I said quietly, closing my eyes as Coyote picked me up and carried me toward the stairs. “He was the one my father called the procurement man. He trafficked girls with—he told my dad to sell me.”
Coyote’s hands tensed around my body, but he didn’t falter as he took the stairs two at a time, stopping on the first floor instead of ours. When I cocked my head in confusion, he just shook his head, only setting me down when we stood in front of a strange door with a skull and crossbones on it, an apocalyptic mask covering the lower half of the skull’s face.
The word Commandos was carved into the metal beneath the spooky visage.
Doc answered the door, unperturbed, as he moved back to let us in his home. He didn’t say a word until the door closed behind Jackal, washing us in a strange glow of artificial light.
“What’s wrong now?”
Jackal’s eyes were alight with flames of righteous fury. “It’s McDowth. He’s the one you’ve been looking for.”
Doc’s eyes darted to me, and I glanced at the floor, suddenly feeling two feet tall.
“Tell me what you know,” he said simply, setting his knife on the counter behind him. “Start at the beginning.”
It was going to be a long night.