Chapter Twenty-One
Killian
While Lyra recovers, I get to work looking into Silas’s newfound connections with The Eyes. I consult Griffin, who tells me that the only way to get my review out of The Eyes’ committee of most senior members, where it’s been under review for months, is to request a tribunal and plead my case.
While The Eyes have largely modernized, they have certain protocols that are ridiculously archaic.
They’re an organization with roots that go back to the establishment of this country, but having to request a fucking tribunal so I can kill someone who’s actively threatening to kill both me and my fiancée? Ridiculous.
Then, there’s the issue of Carter, who’s still playing hardball. There might be a way to bring him into The Eyes and eliminate Silas all at once, but it’ll be a reach.
Safe in the knowledge that Lyra won’t be attempting escape any time soon—I’ve given her plenty to think about—I pull long nights at the office, leaving home early and returning late.
It almost seems like the distance has a positive effect, because Lyra starts asking me about my day and actually listening when I speak to her.
Or, maybe it’s her realization that we truly are in this together.
In any case, I appreciate the change of pace.
She does quite well with her crutches, though I take it upon myself to carry her whenever I’m home.
Which, unfortunately, is not as often as I’d like.
After about two weeks, she ditches the crutches and starts hesitantly limping around.
I send a physical therapist to work with her every day, and she improves spectacularly.
I’m not sure if I’m more grateful for her newfound health or worried that she’s mobile again, therefore she can attempt another escape anytime.
Griffin graciously invites me to his home for dinner with his wife on a Friday evening. Lyra’s not yet well enough to be walking up and around on her own, so she has to decline the invitation.
I take the invitation to either to be an olive branch of sorts—perhaps he wants to work more closely together, or perhaps he’s simply luring me out to betray me. Either way, it’ll be good to know.
After a wonderful dinner during which his wife demonstrates an admirable aptitude for small talk and pleasantness, he brings me to his office for a nightcap.
The wood-paneled study boasts of a century-old refurbished desk and floor-to-ceiling windows showing off the stunning night garden of his estate.
“Silas is gaining allies,” he tells me as soon as he’s poured both of us scotch and we’ve taken seats on opposite sides of his desk. “Junior members without much sway, but still. He’s actively working on recruiting more.”
“Which means he plans to make a move on me.” I nod slowly, trying to consider exactly what his next move is.
He’ll call for my head, obviously, but the question is how.
Despite his newfound alliances, I’m still a valuable member of The Eyes.
And I have no successor as of yet; if they kill me, it’ll throw the pharmaceutical industry into a tailspin.
Recovery will take years, if not decades.
“That would be my guess, yes,” he nods. “Your engagement announcement and showing off your bride-to-be is good. It makes it much more difficult to claim that your actions against him some months ago were unwarranted. But he’s starting to focus in on rumors that your fiancée is the one who published the expose. ”
“Is he, now?” I clutch the crystal-ridged glass until the sharp edges nearly cut into my skin. There’s no evidence that Lyra had anything to do with the expose, of course. Whatever system she used left behind no proof. But anyone from the outside looking in can speculate.
Speculation on its own isn’t enough for action but it is enough to feed the gossip mill.
“Was she behind it?” Griffin asks.
“Of course not,” I lie. “And there’s no proof to the contrary.”
“I see.” Griffin nods. “I’ve mentioned that one of your rights as a senior member is to call a tribunal if a request you submitted isn’t processed in a reasonable amount of time.”
I arch an eyebrow. “You have,” I drawl. I had no clue about that until he brought it up; it’s not like members receive a rulebook when they join.
All knowledge is sort of passed down from other, higher-ranking or more long-standing members.
Griffin and I are both seniors, but he’s been with The Eyes longer than I have, which automatically affords him more power.
“What I must’ve forgotten to add is that you’d need to have a senior member vouch for your cause.” Griffin smooths a hand down his tie. “I’m prepared to do so.”
I cock my head. “Why?”
He shrugs. “I like you, and I dislike Silas. It’s rare to have two members of the same industry in The Eyes. Admitting you was a point of great debate. I was the one who suggested it.”
Again, I ask, “Why?” This time I’m far more confused.
Griffin lifts a shoulder in a casual half-shrug.
“It made sense. Silas was a boy who’d lose the empire his family built to men like you.
You were, are, the future, and he is the past. Even if he manages to get you punished, even if he somehow manages to get your head on a platter, it’ll only hurt us in the long run.
Vladimir is too shortsighted to see that, and I believe he just doesn’t like you on principal. ”
“That principal being?”
“You’re new money.”
“Ah,” I nod. Despite being wealthier than most of the old-money nepo babies in this country combined, I’m still regarded as an outsider in many social circles. I’m also revered in many others, which makes up for the blow.
“So how would a tribunal work?”
“Judges would be selected,” he says. “Five. I expect they would be the ones with most sway in The Eyes—Vladimir, myself, Spencer, Ryan, and Raegan.”
Bull, Herald, Janus, Consul, and Crow. A powerful selection of judges, indeed, all with their own political motivations.
Ryan is from the DC political scene, so he’ll vote however he feels would best benefit himself.
I think I can count on Griffin siding with me.
Vladimir will go with Silas. Spencer, ex director of a three-letter agency, could be persuaded to go with me if he thinks it’d be the best long-term.
And Raegan won’t show her hand of cards until the very last moment.
“When will you bring up the idea, and when will the tribunal take place?”
“Since we won’t have another meeting for a while, I’ll gather a meeting of the senior members digitally and propose it then.
After that, a date will be set. You and Silas will both have time to plead your case.
I expect he’ll call for your head since you’re calling for his.
But once the judges decide, there’s no going back.
If you lose, you and possibly your fiancée will both be killed. ”
That makes me rather hesitant to go down this path. I think I could win, but there’s no guarantee. “And the alternative?”
“You wait for months or years. Eventually, Silas will also request your head, and we’ll be in the same position. It’s only a matter of time.”
“What grounds does Silas have to put in a kill-request on me?”
“You faked an engagement so you could take revenge against him.” Griffin stares hard at me.
Technically, I had already told Lyra that we were going to get engaged and married before I hurt Silas, so I have a strong argument to the contrary.
Maybe I shouldn’t have demanded the price I did of Silas, but I can’t bring myself to regret it. And he should be thanking me—slimming down only helped him.
“What can I do to better my chances?”
“Play the game. Bribery, persuasion, all of it. I can guarantee that Silas is already doing just that, with Vlad’s backing; follow suit.”
“Will I have a backer as strong as Vlad?” I question lazily.
A slight, sardonic smile plays on his lips. “Yes, I’ll help you and vouch for you.”
“And what do you want in return?” There’s always a price.
Griffin pretends to look surprised. “You don’t think I’m helping you because it’s the right thing to do? Or out of the goodness of my heart?”
“We’re far too wealthy to give credence to the right thing or the desires of our heart.”
“True,” Griffin chuckles. “In the future, I expect I’ll have a large favor to ask of you. When the time comes, you will help me.”
Cryptic, and potentially dangerous. “What will this favor cost me?”
“Not more than you can afford to lose.”
Let’s hope that’s true.
The long nights continue, as do the early mornings. I start calling Lyra between meetings during the day, just to hear her voice. I, of course, get updates from the guards I now have in-house with us, but I want to hear about her day from her.
Mostly, she stays in the library and occasionally uses my office to work on her book edits. She also starts another project that she’s trying to keep secret from me for some reason. She keeps insisting that it’s bad and that it’ll need a bunch of editing before I see it.
I’ll just look through her laptop when I get a chance and email it to myself. Then, pretend to act surprised when she finally shows it to me.
Griffin requests the tribunal a few days after our conversation, on a virtual meeting with the important members of The Eyes. Silas spends the entire time glaring at me with lethal intent, while I sit back silently, waiting and plotting.
The expected five judges are appointed. The tribunal is set to take place at our usual place in exactly a month. Not much time, but it should be enough if I work quickly.
I start building my strategy immediately… which means several all-nighters pulled at the office.
I want to keep Lyra as far away from these nasty dealings as possible. I don’t want to bring this sort of work home with me. It would pollute the air she breathes, and that’s unacceptable. I won’t allow it to touch her, and I certainly won’t allow Silas to touch her.