69
EMERSYN
My head hurt something awful as I came out of whatever haze the drug had thrown me into. I groaned as I sat up and looked around the room. It was literally just four concrete walls and—
Griffin.
He had one wrist handcuffed to a pipe that ran from floor to ceiling. He was awake with a blank, dead look on his face as he stared at the door.
“Where are we?” I asked.
He didn’t look at me. “I don’t know.” His voice was flat and dull.
“Did Angel do this?”
“Yes.”
I didn’t know what else to say, so I said nothing. Unlike Griffin, I wasn’t handcuffed which was curious. Angel clearly knew I was dangerous too, so why had he only cuffed Griffin?
Nausea coursed through me at the memory of the explosion, and I buried my hands in my hair.
The world felt less than without Seven around.
Part of me felt like he just wasn’t here, but I’d see him later.
I’d get to hear his jokes and his laugh and see that lopsided, sly smile he always got whenever he was about to do or say something cheeky.
He couldn’t be dead. Death was so very final.
Too serious for someone who very much was not.
The door opened and none other than Angel stepped through. He looked a lot different though. He’d ditched the tactical gear for slacks and a dress shirt rolled at the sleeves.
Griffin let out a growl. “What the fuck is this, Angel?”
“I’ll explain everything shortly,” Angel said. “For now, just know you both are safe—”
“Then why am I handcuffed?” Griffin snapped.
“That’s for my safety,” Angel chuckled. “Emersyn, if you’ll come with me? Someone wishes to speak with you.”
“Who?” Griffin barked.
I climbed to my feet but didn’t make a move toward the door. I looked Angel over suspiciously.
“Who are you really?” I asked. “And don’t feed me that ‘I’m your friend’ bullshit.”
Angel smiled. “I do go by Angel in some circles, and you are more than welcome to continue calling me that, but my real name is Dante.”
“Is that name supposed to mean something to me?” I asked.
I looked over at Griffin, but he continued to glower at Angel, and it didn’t look like that name meant anything to him either.
“No. I should hope not,” Angel chuckled like there was some inside joke I wasn’t aware of. He extended his hand again.
“Come, come, I promise no harm will come to you,” Angel said. “Either of you.”
I decided I was probably only going to succeed in finding answers if I left this room, so with one last look at Griffin, I followed Angel—Dante—whatever his name was, out of the cell.
He escorted me into a nearby room that was completely opposite from the concrete room I was just in.
It was lit comfortably by a roaring fire and wall sconces, with lavish rugs and comfortable leather seating throughout.
Angel half-bowed to the figure in front of the fire, before he walked back out and shut the door carefully behind him.
The man was tall and dressed immaculately in a tailored suit. He stood in profile to me as he swirled a glass of whiskey in one hand while the other was casually placed in his pocket. He turned fully and I froze.
“Good evening, my dear.”
“Albatron.”
“Ah, so you remember me?”
Albatron’s voice was smooth, cultured and refined with the barest trace of a foreign accent.
His attention swept me from head-to-toe, but it felt almost clinical.
Since I still had on the oversized clothes from the island that were torn and dirty, I was dead certain there was nothing for him to leer at.
“How could I forget?” I said scornfully.
Albatron’s gaze didn’t leave my face as he beckoned me closer with a twist of his drink. I took a few steps forward, but had to stop when everything in my body froze and I was transported roughly back to that night in the clearing. I realized I couldn’t do it—I couldn’t take another step—
“Are you afraid of me?” He sounded amused.
I locked eyes with him and scowled, irritated with my own hesitation. “No.”
Albatron didn’t look like he believed me. He stepped closer, and my fists clenched at my sides at his proximity, and every cell in my body fired off a warning. This was the man who continually made an appearance in my nightmares.
“I hear you’ve been searching for me and my brothers,” he said. “And I assume it isn’t because you want to have a conversation.”
I shook my head and he nodded. “To kill me then?”
When I didn’t answer, he smiled thinly. “I expected as much. How would you do it?”
My brow furrowed. “What?”
“How would you kill me? I can assure you the tactic you took with my brother would not work.”
My jaw tightened at his underlying tone of amusement. “I would prefer to stab you,” I admitted.
“You enjoy the intimacy.” He nodded. “Just like your father.”
We stared at each other. I studied the way the flames danced in his dark eyes, casting shadows over his expressionless face. I could tell he wanted me to react to his comment, but I gave him nothing.
“So tell me, Emersyn North, what are you going to do now that you have me at your mercy?”
Albatron’s voice was as seductive as it was sharp.
I scoffed. “Even if I had a weapon, I have no doubt you’d kill me where I stood if I so much as sneezed.”
He pursed his lips. “Perhaps.”
The amusement was back, and he took another sip of his drink.
I wasn’t nearly as amused. “Why am I here?”
“I wanted to meet you.”
I raised my eyebrows skeptically. “And how do I match up to your expectations?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“Okay, well, I’m not really a small talk kind of girl,” I said dryly. “Why am I really here?”
Albatron’s lips twitched. “Three days ago, your father went to war with Vetticus. Based on our shared history, he will most likely come for me next. I can’t afford for that to happen.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe you shouldn’t have shot me.”
Albatron hummed in acknowledgement. “I’m going to tell you something not very many people know.” He paused dramatically. “My brothers and I do not see eye-to-eye.” He waved his drink, brow furrowed. “We never really have. However, recently the conflict has escalated beyond repair.”
This surprised me. I’d thought the brothers were a cohesive family business. All of the information pointed to it. When Albatron saw he had my attention, he continued.
“For years my brothers have wanted to take me down. They have struggled. And because of said struggles, I believe Octavius would have used you as leverage to get your father to take up arms against me, and turn the tides in his favor. As powerful as I am, I cannot fight my brothers and your father at the same time”
“But, Octavius is dead now.”
“Which, I do wish to thank you for,” Albatron inclined his head with a small smile. “But, Basilion will take up what little slack there is. They were always a cohesive unit.”
“What about Mahoney?”
Albatron waved his hand like he was nothing. “He knew you would be valuable, so he simply waited until he saw an opportunity to gain favor with the brothers by delivering you to them. Thanks to Dante, your team is now well aware of how deep his activities go.”
“Yeah—about Dante—”
Albatron’s lips thinned slightly in displeasure. “Dante sometimes steps out of line. I wanted him to retrieve you. That was all. He felt it necessary to involve your team.”
Interesting.
“But, you have the leverage now,” I said, unable to keep the distaste from twisting my features. “Are you going to demand that my father fight for you against your brothers? I can tell you right now that’s not going to happen—”
Albatron waved a hand as though flicking away my words. “No, no. Nothing that juvenile. I’m under no such illusions that he would ever side with me. Yes, I have the leverage now, but my plan involves giving you back to your father.”
I froze, convinced I’d heard wrong. “What?”
“I will deliver you in exchange for his word he won’t kill me,” Albatron said bluntly. “At least not yet.”
I scoffed. “He won’t do that. You know he won’t let you live after shooting me.”
“But, I didn’t kill you.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t see it like that,” I said dryly. “I don’t see it that way.”
As though Albatron could taste my reservations on the breaths between us, he traced his finger in the air down my scar—not touching, but close enough that I could feel the tingle of energy from his skin.
“I remember that night,” Albatron said thoughtfully. “I saw the aftermath of Vetticus’ destruction. He is a brutal man who deserves everything your father delivers.”
I huffed quietly. “And you’re not?”
Albatron’s eyes sharpened. “You know it’s not that black and white.” He tilted his head and really took a moment to study me. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked me yet.”
I took a breath, somehow I immediately knew what he was talking about. The flames threw some of him into shadow as he stood patiently waiting for me to speak. Of all the questions, over all the years I’d had him on my kill list, there was really only one question I wanted an answer to.
“Why did you shoot me? You didn’t even know who I was, right?”
“If I’d known what a beautiful and terrifying creature you’d turn into, or who North would become, I wouldn’t have shot you.”
I frowned. “You wanted me to ask, so tell me the truth.”
He sighed. “Back then North was simply a man, and you were simply a young girl in the hands of some very dangerous men.” Albatron’s jaw tensed. “I did it because I knew the suffering ahead of you.”
The entire world dropped away. Albatron’s eyes bore into mine, so close I could see the individual colors, as they formed a rare window into what I could only think to call, humanity.
This monster in front of me just granted a glimpse of the unseen.
An admission of compassion, empathy—words I would have never used to describe this man in a million years.
“You were just a child,” he said. “Caught in a web of darkness you couldn’t possibly understand.”