Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
PERILOUS
Annika is safe and Luc looks ready to slit my throat.
There’s a pretty solid chance he will do just that. Which makes my appearance in front of him the big risk that it is. The thing is—I’m not afraid to face death to make a point. I’m not going to hide from Luc because of decisions I’ve made.
“You’re alone,” Luc says as he stands in an empty room with black walls.
It’s dark, quiet, and has the smell of sandalwood and murder lingering.
I nod.
“You trust that she’ll be safe?”
“I claimed her,” I say. “There are rules.”
“You’re going to show up and explain rules to me? After what you did? You fucking defied my orders. You should not be alive right now.”
“But I am alive, Luc. I’ve come to let you know my intentions.”
“Your intentions? Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“I’m the one who does the dirty work. I do the things nobody else will. I take my orders. I take my beatings . This situation is more of a miscommunication. I didn’t intend for this to happen, Luc. But it did. I’ll finish the job.”
Luc scoffs. “You’re going to kill the woman you claimed?”
“I’ll do whatever I want to her. She’s claimed. She’s mine. She can’t disobey me. So far she hasn’t. That’s why she can barely walk and she needs painkillers to move.”
That makes Luc grin a little.
“You’re a fucking psycho, Perilous,” Luc says. “A monster I’ve created. A monster I’ve unleashed.”
“A monster who will finish what’s been started,” I say to Luc. “I did not come here to debate my sanity. I came here to face you like a man. To see if you were going to kill me. And to make sure you realize if anyone so much as looks at Annika the wrong way, I will rip their eyes out with my bare hands.”
“This has an entire new meaning to this, Perilous,” Luc says. “You’re impeding me. You’re in my fucking way right now.”
I tilt my head back a little and touch my neck. I’m showing Luc right where he can stab me. A good enough first hit and I would bleed out in seconds. I’d fall to my knees and the last thing I’d see is Luc.
“Good luck,” Luc says, which surprises me.
He turns and exits the room.
I’m in deep now. Deeper than I ever thought I would be. There is so much more to this. More to the story of Annika. There are part of this story that she doesn’t know about.
She’s being used a pawn in a game she didn’t want to take part in. Kind of like the way I had no fucking desire to claim someone. Yet I will keep my promise when it comes to claiming someone.
I will protect her.
I will kill for her.
I would die for her.
But before that, I need to know what the fuck is going on here.
* * *
Holom Alistair lives in a penthouse apartment, surrounded by other douchebag rich neighbors who love to flaunt their cash and their power. The place smells like the foyer of a fancy hotel.
Holom answers the door, holding a glass of amber liquid and the sight of me makes him finish the drink and motion for me to follow him to his bar so he can get a refill.
To be fair, the last time this guy saw me, I was doing some pretty wild stuff to his daughter.
“She’s alive,” Holom whispers as he slides his glass toward me.
He lifts the entire bottle to his mouth and drinks.
“She’s alive and she’s safe,” I say.
“Safe?” Holom asks. He looks at me. “You think she’s safe right now?”
“She’s not dead,” I growl.
“Why would she be dead? What the hell do you have planned for my daughter?”
Okay. So he has no idea still that Luc wanted his daughter dead.
“Whether you like it or not, you no longer have to worry about her,” I say. “She’s mine now. There’s nothing you can do to change that. I claimed her. She not only went through a full ceremony, but she accepted being claimed. She wanted it.” I inch closer to Holom. “She fucking loves everything I do to her.”
Holom’s eyes widen and the bottle shakes in his hand. I can’t tell if this guy really loves his daughter or if something else is going on.
I stare into his drunk eyes.
Yes, he’s Legion .
I’m just part of a Brood .
But I’ve claimed his daughter, which connects me to him.
“You can slit my throat if you feel inclined to do so,” I whisper. “I won’t stop you. Your Legion. I respect what that means. What that represents. I did as you asked, sir .”
Calling Holom sir makes me want to slit my own throat. But, it relieves a little tension in the room.
He nods. He likes being called sir . This guy has a fucking ego that’s as squishy as a wet sponge. Now I just need the rest of the story. The truth.
“Remember what you told me,” I say to Holom. “Find her. Keep her safe. Protect her.”
“I told you to bring her to me. Remember that part? She went missing and I…”
He drinks from the bottle again. I take my chance and grab the bottle out of his hand. He looks at me, surprised.
“She never went missing, Holom,” I say. “She was with me the entire time.”
“What?”
“I found her in the back alley outside of some club. Drunk and scared. She has a really shitty best friend who put her in that position.”
“Molly,” Holom whispers. His lip curls.
“That’s right. She unfortunately caught me handling some business so I had to make arrangements for her. Until I could sort things out. And you know what, Holom? I got to know her. I realized who she was after you told me to find her. Did I disrespect you? I did. I won’t apologize for it. Look what I’ve gained. She’s now mine and will forever be protected.”
Holom’s jaw quivers. He looks ready to cry.
But the question is— does he want to cry because he feels so strongly that his daughter is safe?
I don’t think it’s that at all.
“She told me about her mother,” I say.
Holom’s face drops. Now his eyes do fill with tears.
I’ve hit a nerve.
“My daughter grew up with everything… but…”
I reach out and touch Holom’s right shoulder. I squeeze tight. Really tight. Tight enough that I’m hurting him but he thinks I’m being nothing by sympathetic.
He clears his throat and moves out of my reach. He turns to wipe his eyes and that’s when I’m able to make my next move. I take the small container of clear liquid from my right front pocket and hurry to pour it into his glass.
I then lift the glass, step toward him and offer it to him.
“I see why this comforts you,” I whisper. “It’s got to be hard. And then to see her with me.”
“She was going to leave the country,” Holom says as he brings the glass to his lips. At the last second he pauses. “It was all worked out. I gave her permission. I mean, not that she was going to listen to me. Spoiled princess.” He smirks.
Just drink the fucking drink, you asshole.
Holom lowers his glass and looks at me. “Promise me you’ll take her. You’ll let her travel? Go with her. Give her the time of her life. Before it’s all…”
His voice trails off.
I walk to the bar, grab the bottle of booze and reach my hand out. “I’ll drink to that, Holom. I’ll show her the world. You have my word.”
Holom looks so defeated right now. He looks like a man living in a different reality, where words and actions are polar opposites.
I bring the bottle to my lips and enjoy a sip of top shelf, expensive as fuck liquor.
Finally, Holom drinks from his glass. He downs half the drink, which is more than enough of what I need him to do. There’s no taste to him other than the booze. He doesn’t realize he’s been drugged.
Part of me wishes I would have laced his drink with enough to kill the bastard. But for now, I need him alive.
“Tell me about her mother,” I say. “And tell me where she wants to travel.”
Holom opens his mouth and his eyes start moving side to side. He’s drunk and now he’s drugged. Everything is hitting him all at once, really hard.
His legs wobble and his body makes the motion like one of those inflatable tube characters you’d see outside a car dealership.
“Oh, no, Holom,” I say with thick sarcasm. “You seem really drunk. Let me help you…”
I step back and watch him stumble a little bit more. He finally collapses down to the floor, spilling his drink next to him.
“Finally,” I say.
I step over Holom Alistair’s drugged up, passed out body so I can get to the real purpose of my visit here.
* * *
His desktop computer and his laptop are password protected, as expected.
The laptop though has a spot at the top right corner for fingerprint scanning to get into it. That leaves me crouching down next to Holom and using his right thumb to get into the laptop. For good measure I also stick my fingers against the side of his neck and check for a pulse.
He’s got one. It’s weak but it’s not threatening. He’s completely drunk and drugged, floating in some other universe right now. He’ll wake up tomorrow, face down on the floor with his glass next to him and he’ll try to piece things together but not much of it will make sense. Hell, he might not even remember me being here. Or if he does, he’ll question whether it was real or a dream.
I walk Holom’s laptop back to his all-glass desk and sit down in his ergonomic chair.
What the fuck am I looking for?
Logic tells me anything really bad would not be sitting right on the home screen.
I click through some files, stumbling across business plans, legal documents, and financials.
I back out of all those folders. I sit. I think. I click another folder.
Images.
There’s a whole bunch of folders waiting.
Donahue Expansion. I click that folder. There’s a bunch of pictures of a building. I begin the task of clicking through every folder, name after name, project after project, until I finally stumble across something.
A folder labeled Ria T. Sila.
I want to know who the fuck Ria is. Then it hits me. The folder name is just Alistair spelled backward.
“No fucking way,” I whisper as I shake my head.
That seems as stupid as naming a folder full of porn as NOT PORN. Or naming it Nrop.
The first two rows are pictures of trees. Another row is various parks. Then a row of waterfalls. Then there’s another folder waiting. Labeled OTHER .
I double click that folder and…
“Motherfucker,” I say out loud.
I look around for a printer and see one on the bottom right shelf of the desk.
A few clicks and a few seconds later, I have something to look at. Something to study. Something to keep tucked away for now.
But I’m not done yet.
I close the folders and the laptop and work my way to Holom’s bedroom. The bed is a mess, which surprises me.
There’s also a faint smell in the air. Perfume and sex. When I see a purple thong on the floor, I shake my head. Looks like Holom has been seeking some relief.
I walk around the bedroom and check the bathroom, the closet, the dresser drawers. Everything is in order and in perfect condition. It’s almost too organized.
On a whim I look under the bed and there’s a black box under it. I have to see what’s inside. Weapons? Drugs? Sex toys? Maybe a collection of teeth and Holom is secretly a serial killer.
The answer is None of the Above .
It’s notes and cards. Like a girl who keeps a shoebox of all the love letters from old boyfriends and shit like that.
I pick a random envelope and read the note inside.
Annika,
A sunrise made me think of you.
A reminder that tomorrow has the chance to arrive. It’s not promised. One day we will all see our last sunrise. Our last sunset. And we’ll probably never know.
It’s a little bit haunting when you think about it. But it’s also really beautiful too.
The letter goes on and on, reading more like sad poetry than anything else.
It’s when I get to the bottom of the letter do my eyes get really big.
“Oh, fuck,” I announce loudly when I see who has written the letter.
I quickly check the envelope, just to check the date when this was sent in the mail.
It takes a lot to get my heart thumping but right now my heart feels like it’s about to explode out of my chest.
I keep the letter and the envelope. I collect the papers I printed from the printer. And then I get the fuck out of Holom Alistair’s apartment.
Somehow I now have to tell Annika that her entire life is one big lie.