Chapter 10 Keira
KEIRA
The SUV rocks side to side as we drive. The car smells like leather and him. I've been in this seat enough times to recognize the scent.
Octavian drives in silence, as always, his eyes always scanning as we pass cars in traffic.
I stare out the window, watching Boston go by.
It's been two days since Bridget's body was found in that parking garage. I can't shake her lifeless eyes staring at nothing while black feathers decorated her chest like some sick art installation.
And that's not even including the conversation about Shadowharbor reps mentioning the word Morrígan. And now, with those words leaving her lips, she's dead.
None of it's a coincidence, and that's the unsettling part.
My phone buzzes in my lap. A text from Calli.
How you holding up? Feeling okay?
Define okay.
Fair. Call me later after your meeting?
Yeah.
I set the phone down and glance at Octavian.
He doesn't look at me, but I know he's aware of every move I make. He always is.
He hasn't left my side since it all went down. He's been annoyingly present. Always nearby. Always watching. I used to hate that.
But also, I don't know. If I'm being honest with myself, it's the only thing that makes the air feel a little less heavy.
I don't say it, of course. I'd rather die than admit I find any comfort in his presence.
But still, I notice when he's not in the room. I notice when he is.
So who knows what the fuck that means.
Anyway, I need to think of other things.
"You're quiet," I say, breaking the silence.
His eyes flick to me in the rearview mirror briefly before returning to the road. "You prefer I talk?"
"I prefer you not be a robot."
The corner of his mouth lifts slightly. Not quite a smile, but close enough to count.
"I'll work on it," he says.
I roll my eyes and turn back to the window.
We're five minutes away from the Killaney compound. Callum called a meeting, so Declan and I are descending upon it.
We arrive at the wrought iron gates, and the guards wave us through without hesitation.
Octavian parks and kills the engine.
I reach for the door handle, but he's already out and around to my side before I can open it.
He extends his hand.
I stare at it for a second, then take it, letting him help me out.
He's been doing that lately, and I've been liking it. It's always cold in that damn car, and his hand is warm. I feel like I can steal some of it. It helps steady my nerves.
Again, something else I'd rather die than admit to.
He shuts the door behind me, and I look up at him, our eyes meeting.
"This way," he says, imitating a robotic voice.
I laugh and cover my mouth as if not wanting him to see he got me.
I clear my throat and walk past him. "Come on. Let's get this over with."
I walk inside and make my way down the hall toward the office.
Octavian follows a few paces behind me.
When I reach the double doors, I pause.
"I'll be waiting out here," he says.
I nod and push them open.
Callum sits behind the desk, arms crossed, his expression carved from stone. Declan sits slouched in one of the chairs.
Both of them glance up when I enter.
"Keira," Callum says. "Glad you're here. Come sit, please."
I do, taking the chair next to Declan.
"Okay, I'm just going to say this," Declan says, shifting in his chair. "I think we got a fucking mole."
I sit up straighter. "A mole?" I ask, my eyes bouncing between the two of them. "What do you mean?"
"There was another attack last night. Four of our drivers," Callum says, leaning forward. "It was too precise. Only a handful of people knew about the pickup."
"Someone's feeding the Morrígans intel," Declan says. "Has to be. How else would they know where to hit us?"
"And how else would they lure Bridget downstairs," Callum adds.
"Wait, wait. How do you know that?" I ask.
Callum rubs the back of his neck.
"We got the security tapes. She walks down there laughing, talking to someone. We can't make out who, and…" He trails off, but I don't need him to finish.
"Also," I say and hesitate, "now may be a good time to tell you that at the event, someone was looking at me from across the room. Flashed a feather. Octavian went after him, but he was gone."
"Shit, Keira, are you serious? Why didn't you say anything?" Declan asks, leaning forward.
"I just got caught up with everything. Sorry."
"Okay, so clearly we got a Shadowharbor and Morrígan connection," Callum says. "I'm glad I made the call about not all of us attending the event together. Who knows what could have happened, to us or others there."
There's a moment of silence, and then Callum leans forward, elbows on the desk. "And all Bridget said was that they mentioned them, right? Nothing more specific?"
"No. I asked if she could ID them if she saw them again. She said yes."
Declan curses under his breath. "Shit, that could have been our ticket to get some answers."
"I know," I snap, more aggressive than I mean to. "And now she's fucking dead."
Silence settles over the room again.
Callum's fingers drum against the desk, a rare tell that he's mulling over whatever the hell is in his head.
"I'm thinking you should stay here for a few days," he says finally, looking at me. "You can take the east wing. If we think we have a mole, I may want to use Octavian for something, and I don't want you alone."
"You want me to stay here?"
"Yes."
I open my mouth to argue, then stop.
Normally, I'd tell him to fuck off. That I can take care of myself. That I don't need to be locked up like some princess in a tower.
But Bridget's face flashes in my mind, her tongue cut out, feathers on her chest.
I swallow hard.
"Fine," I say quietly. "I'll stay."
Declan's eyebrows shoot up. "You will?"
"Don't sound so shocked. Seeing a dead woman spooked me, all right?"
Callum nods, satisfied. "Good. Also, see if you can find out exactly who those people were, the Shadowharbor reps your woman heard talking."
I nod. "I'll dig into it."
"And one more thing," Callum says, his voice softer now. "I'm having a meeting with Dad soon. I may tell him what's going on."
Declan leans forward. "You sure that's a good idea? With his treatments and all?"
"I don't know," Callum shrugs. "I don't want to bother him with this shit, but maybe he deserves to know. Fuck, I don't know."
He looks over to me, and I shrug. "Whatever you think is best, Cal," I say gently.
He nods a few times.
"Okay," he says, standing. "I've got something to do. Declan, you can go. Keira, get settled. We'll talk more later."
He leaves, and I go to stand.
"Hey," Declan says, grabbing my arm. "You okay?"
I look back at him. "Yeah. I'll manage."
He shakes his head. "Just don't shut down. You do that sometimes."
"I know."
"I'm here, sis."
I smile.
"How's it having Octavian? He seems all right."
"Yeah, he's all right. Is it helping you stay focused?"
Declan smiles. "Yes. Knowing you got a fucking giant following you around helps. Still," he says, waving his hands, "all this shit though."
"Yeah. We'll figure it out, brother."
We head out into the hallway, and Octavian looks down at me.
"We're going to stay here for a few days, so come on," I say and start walking. "I'll show you where you'll be staying, and then we can go get some stuff from my house."
He doesn't answer, but I hear his boots behind me, and in this moment, those steps don't annoy me. In fact, it's the last thing they do.
We head over to the east wing. I like this side. It's quieter than the rest of the house. More isolated.
When I reach the suite he'll be staying in, I push open the door and step inside.
"This will be your room. Mine's two doors down at the end of the hall," I say, turning to him. "It's bigger," I whisper jokingly.
I toss my purse onto the couch and move toward the window.
The gardens stretch out below, perfectly manicured, like everything else in this family.
Octavian closes the door and stands right in front of it.
I glance over my shoulder. "You planning to stand there all day?"
"If necessary."
I roll my eyes. "You're exhausting."
"You say that a lot."
"Because it's true."
He doesn't respond.
I turn back to the window, letting the silence stretch.
After a moment, I speak. "Do you ever get tired of it?"
"Tired of what?"
"This." I gesture vaguely. "Standing around. Watching. Never letting your guard down."
He's quiet for a moment.
"No," he says finally. "It's what I do. I don’t know any other way."
I shake my head. "That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have."
I turn to face him fully, leaning against the windowsill.
"You know, most people would go insane living like that."
His dark eyes meet mine. "Most people aren't me."
"No," I say softly. "They're not."
I push off the windowsill and move toward him.
He doesn't move, but his shoulders tense.
"You don't have to be a statue all the time, you know," I say, stopping just in front of him.
His jaw tightens. "It's easier this way."
"Easier for who?"
He doesn't answer at first.
Then, "It's easier if I never turn it off."
My eyes drop to the small cut on his lip. I've never noticed it before "How'd you get that?"
His gaze follows my hand as I touch my own mouth to show him. For a second, he stares at my lips, too long. Heat spreads through my chest.
"My brother," he says.
"Your brother?"
"Yeah."
I laugh. “You probably deserved it, huh?"
A sadness comes across his eyes, and it startles me.
"Maybe," he says and clears his throat. "Want to tell me what you need from your house?"
I suddenly realize how close I'm standing to him, and I step back, playing with my hair.
The room suddenly feels too warm.
"No, I uh, I'll go with you. I can pack my own stuff.”
I grab my purse, and we walk out of the room. My face feels red for some reason, so I keep a brisk pace, not letting him see.
When we get outside, the cold air cuts through the last of the heat in my skin.
For now, the estate feels safe, but even quiet places have shadows.
At least for now, I know which shadows to watch for and which ones I can trust. Maybe.