24. Kael
An arch made of bent willows and lined with tiny, white lights spanned the open double doors as we entered the rooftop venue. The warm scent of pumpkin spice and cinnamon assaulted my nose from the hundreds of candles that had been lit along glittering, gold tables stretching the length of the indoor portion of the space. Silky fabric and flowers in harvest and burgundy colors lined the ceiling, and to the right, the wall of glass doors opened to the gardens beyond. Jack-o’-lanterns had been carved with floral designs and lit from the inside with soft candlelight. They lined each of the long walls to the left and right, and their dancing shadows tapped out eerie patterns on the floor.
I followed behind Mattie, admiring the way her curled, blond hair brushed against her bare back. The dress she wore swooped down to her lower back, and she’d swept her curls away from her face with glittery pins. She also held herself like a fucking goddess, and I loved it. Whatever hurt she’d endured, she wore it like armor, and from the outside looking in, it gave her a fearless strength I hadn’t even realized I’d come to admire so strongly.
Classical music drifted across the empty room, and I let my gaze rove over the details for anything that might be amiss. Four hundred places had been set with gold trenchers and delicate china—adorned with those fucking stupid napkins—and place cards indicated where each guest should sit. It did look like a wedding, and now I knew why. It wasn’t so much a wedding as it was a celebration of a mutually beneficial transaction. In a medieval way, it was a ceremony. And it made me want to turn on my heel and plant my fist in both her parents’ faces.
It was only for Mattie’s sake that I stayed calm enough to see this through. Like it or not, it was the best way to free her. I had my eyes on Mattie, and I’d keep them on her the entire party. Whatever Cohen wanted from her, he wasn’t getting it. Not that I thought he would do something outwardly devious here in front of hundreds of guests. Mattie had been sort of right in assuming that ruining the Thornes was a logical first step to her freedom. But even with their finances destroyed, I knew Cohen would chase her down. Which was why I needed to ensure that the Thornes knew I was behind their fall. It would cause Cohen to pause momentarily. He’d back off—hesitate, even if for a short time.
Until I found him. Then he was a dead man.
Mattie ran her hand over the fabric-covered chairs, walking slowly and taking in the extravagant decorations. Alicia walked briskly beside her, and already guests were filtering in and conversing in hushed tones with one another. Mattie looked distinctly uncomfortable, but she began to follow Alicia from group to group, shaking hands, chatting about nonsense, and thanking total strangers for coming to “Mattie’s” welcome home party.
I drifted several paces behind her, always out of the way, but always close enough that I could see her expressions. Mattie had such darling features—that was what made her spunkiness so funny to me. She looked sweet and cuddly like a bunny rabbit, but she had teeth on her. Even the people she spoke to sensed that, either because of whatever snarky remark she had made, or simply because she had that aura about her. Her sweet, doll-like face was completely at odds with the “fuck with me and I’ll castrate you” vibe she gave off. It only made me admire her more.
After an hour or so, the room had reached what I assumed was full capacity, and the faces blended together as guests milled around, the drone of their conversations ebbing and flowing over the classical music in the background. I turned on my earpiece finally, giving Tabitha a line of communication to me as I kept Mattie in view.
Her voice crackled to life in my ear. “I’m here. I confirmed that the computer is hooked up and ready to go. It’s the correct one.”
“Good.” I eased my way between two older guests, my eyes on Mattie as she laughed stiffly at a man’s joke. “Have you spotted Jonathon Cohen yet?”
“Weirdly, no. He was invited, but I don’t see him.”
My intuition poked at my brain with relentless, irritating jabs. “Why wouldn’t he be here?”
“He’s a billionaire,” Tabitha said with a shrug in her voice. “Who knows.”
That didn’t track. If I’d had my whole team still on board, I would have already had one of them tailing him. But as it was, I was lucky to still have Tabitha after we’d shut down our main operations.
Finally, dinner started, and I sat next to Mattie at her table near the front of the venue. It felt like sinking into a hot tub to be near her again. The muscles in my neck and arms uncoiled, and with her parents down the table to her right, I threaded my pinky through hers under the table before they brought out the truffle-infused lobster bisque. Barely moving my lips, I murmured, “You’re doing perfect.”
Her shoulders rose and fell with a sigh. “Thanks. I feel crazy.”
“Almost there,” I assured her.
I barely tasted the ostentatious menu, working my way through the foie gras terrine, and then Wagyu rib-eye, followed by champagne-braised Chilean sea bass and a wild mushroom quinoa pilaf. I was fairly certain it was all artfully prepared, but my gaze kept scanning the guests for Jonathon. He still wasn’t here.
“You look tense,” Tabitha said in my ear.
“I am tense,” I muttered.
“Dude, what happened to stabbing an ambassador through the nose?” she teased. “This is nothing compared to that.”
“It was a rebel I stabbed. To protect an ambassador. And I really don’t know. Maybe I got soft from inactivity.”
“Sure,” she drawled. “That’s totally it.”
I didn’t have time to really think about what she meant because Mr. Thorne had stood and tapped his champagne flute to draw attention to where he stood at the front of the assembly. An attendant handed him a microphone, and he cleared his throat into it. “Welcome, everyone. We are really so pleased to see so many of you here.”
Scattered applause followed that.
“As you all know, our little Mattie has been on a global tour these last couple of years,” Augustus went on. “Quite the adventurer,” he chuckled.
While the guests laughed softly with him, Mattie muttered, “He said ‘escape’ wrong.”
“But she’s finally back and settled at home, and we are just thrilled to have her.” More clapping, and I would have bet my 9 mm that not a single person actually knew or cared about Mattie. Such a strange practice, to know many people but not care or emotionally connect with a single one of them. In the absence of connection, people like Mattie’s parents filled the gaps with extravagance and greed. Even if they hadn’t been sociopaths, I wouldn’t have blamed Mattie for wanting to leave this behind.
The projector behind us lowered, and as it did, Alicia stood, pulling Mattie with her. Augustus handed the microphone to his wife. “We thought it would be so special to show some pictures of Mattie and her adventures to commemorate the experiences she’s had.”
I’d seen those pictures. They were doctored, stolen from other people’s social media accounts, and five years old or more. The farce would have made me sick if I didn’t know it was about to ruin them.
Alicia directed Mattie to stand on a raised, temporarily constructed stage just under the projector. She stood off to the side of the slideshow, and while the music started, I turned in my chair to catch her gaze. She stood there on the three-foot stage, her arms folded under her breasts and warm brown eyes fixed to mine. She nodded.
The slideshow played through three slides, showing Mattie five years ago deep-sea fishing, and then standing at the precipice of a waterfall. I wondered who she’d been with when those had been taken. Her friends? She hadn’t mentioned any friends she missed. It felt strange and empty.
It felt an awful lot like the last ten years of my life.
Then, suddenly, the program glitched, splitting into little bars of rainbow artifacts before a picture of several boxes of cathynol, clearly labeled, appeared in front of what looked like a third-world terrorist hideout. Alicia gasped. I smiled. Here we go.
A video of a hostage being tortured by cathynol played on the screen, and the screams of terror and pain filtered through the stunned space as the interrogator proudly explained what the cathynol would do to their systems if they didn’t cooperate. Gasps erupted from the crowd, and several of them made sounds of distress. Now that we had their attention, the video showed detailed shipping logs. Phones began to click, taking pictures.
Alicia and Augustus panicked. They ran to the left side of the projector screen where the media attendant clicked away at the computer, helpless to stop the video. Or, she pretended to, anyway. Tabitha looked up from the screen, her smile mirthless and sharp. I nodded, glancing again at the next picture, which showed the amount of money the Thornes had made off their experimental drug program, and the drug makeup of the “experiment” they were distributing. Cameras clicked fast, and I knew those images would make their way to all the wrong places for the Thornes.
Augustus grabbed the computer, and although it was connected by Bluetooth, he smashed it to the ground. No virus could compensate for physical damage, but we’d accomplished what we needed to. There was no escaping the horrified stares of four hundred drama-hungry millionaires that had settled on the Thornes. They would eat them alive for this.
That would leave a few morsels for me to swoop in on later and finish off.
I swiveled to smile at Mattie, hoping to see a measure of relief in her features—but the spot where she’d stood was empty. I stood abruptly from my chair, shoving it back. My heart thundered, clapping through my chest and pumping adrenaline through my veins. A fast scan of the area didn’t reveal that she’d simply stepped down and out of my line of sight. I jumped onto the stage and went for the projector screen.
While chaos bubbled behind me, rising up in the form of gasping conversation and loudly proclaimed accusations toward the Thornes, I swept the thick projector screen aside, ducking to look behind the shadowed area. This part of the venue ended at a tall, Italian-tiled wall, and off to the right, the glass doors led to the gardens. She’d been standing right here, right in front of the open garden doors and surrounded by tables.
To the left of the room, the service doors led to kitchens. I ran with my heart in my ears, tapping my earpiece. “Tab, she’s gone.”
Tabitha looked up from where she’d been standing, stoic as Augustus yelled at her. She rotated a panicked look around the room. Ignoring Augustus, she left him and met me at the kitchen entrance with worry in her dark brown eyes. “What do you mean, ‘she’s gone?’”
I gestured to the increasingly frantic event space behind us. “She’s not there.”
“I’ll search the gardens and entrance,” Tab said immediately, going into operative mode. “You take the kitchens.”
“Obviously,” I snapped. Letting my instincts lead, I sprinted through the kitchens and to the fire escape exit. I barreled down the eight flights of stairs, my eyes combing each turn for what might look like a struggling, feisty blond and any number of captors. A door on the bottom floor slammed shut.
I unholstered my gun, and holding it in the SUL position, over the back of my hand and pointed to the ground, I ran recklessly down the remaining five flights, barely rounding them safely in my haste to reach the bottom before whoever had taken Mattie could reach their destination. It wasn’t like me to be careless. And it definitely wasn’t like me to be panicked.
But I was both at the moment.
A frantic kind of fear galloped through my body, and I sprinted down the last flight of stairs, skidding to a halt in the empty, utilitarian foyer area before reaching for the heavy exterior door. I yanked it open, half expecting to get shot at. But I found, instead, a dark, poorly illuminated New York alleyway lined with full dumpsters, discarded boxes, and a loading bay to my right.
Too late, I saw the car to my left. Already rolling toward the open streets beyond, I got the barest glimpse of a seafoam green dress and a pair of feet being dragged into the black sedan’s back seat. I swiveled, training my gun on its tires, but it peeled away in the next instant. Heedless of traffic, the car screeched into the one-way lane. In the darkness, I couldn’t make out a model or license plate number. I had nothing.
I tapped my earpiece as I ran. “They have her. I’m pursuing on foot.”
“Cohen?” Tabitha asked, breathless.
I didn’t know with absolute certainty, but it didn’t take a genius to make that conclusion. “Has to be,” I panted.
“I’m coming. Where are you?”
“I’m going to lose her,” I replied, struggling to keep my voice calm when I wanted to riot and burn the city down instead. “I won’t make it on foot.”
Silence lined the ragged breaths that huffed from my lungs as I sprinted down the alley and tore out into the well-lit city street. “Kael…” Tabitha started.
“Get me a car,” I clipped.
“Kael—there’s no point.”
She was right. It was pointless. Even as I sprinted down the sidewalk, my eyes bouncing from nondescript sedan to equally as unidentifiable black sedan, I knew that even if I could recognize the thing, it was long gone. Anyone kidnapping Mattie wouldn’t wait around in traffic. I slowed to a fast walk. “You have a safe house set up here?” My question came out thick and choppy. I felt the panic stealing my thoughts and catching in my voice.
“Wait where you are. I’ll come get you in the car.”
I stopped, surrounded by neon lights and blinking signs. Cars rolled past and washed my body in beams of white light. Breathing hard, I stood in front of a coffee shop. But I didn’t feel like I was part of the city, part of the people who bustled past and gave me strange looks for having run across the walkways at night. I felt exactly like my name implied. Like a ghost. A specter whose soul had just been shoved into a car and been carted away.
“What’s your visual?” Tab asked, her voice tight.
I expelled a hard breath, and it misted out in front of me, blurring the lavish city around me. Mattie was gone. They had her, and I’d failed. “She’s gone,” I choked.