Chapter 26 Jasper
TWENTY-SIX
JASPER
My phone vibrates in my pocket for the fifth time in an hour.
It’s not Mara, because she blocked me sometime last night. Clark Black can try to keep his daughter away, but we’re not about to let that slide.
I slip around a knot of gossiping underclassmen. They’re chattering about the murder, voices high with morbid excitement.
“… heard they think it’s Levi from Delta Sigma…”
I tune them out. The details of Asher’s death aren’t my priority right now, Mara is. Where is she? Is she safe? Why the hell would she block our numbers?
Once I reach the meeting place near the liberal arts building, I find Talon casually leaning against a pillar, thumbing through his phone.
Dredyn is pacing a short line beside him like a caged panther.
He’s still seething from Mara being taken, and all the fallout from Asher’s death.
I stride over and fall into step at Dredyn’s side.
He doesn’t look at me—his stare is fixed on the doors of Hastings Hall—but he gives a brief nod of acknowledgment.
Talon slides his phone away. “Our boy should be out any minute.”
A cluster of students spill out of the doorway, laughing and chattering after their lecture. Among them, I spot a head of artfully-styled chestnut hair and a flash of a bright, patterned bomber jacket. Zane Beaumont. He’s walking with his eyes on his phone, oblivious.
In two long strides, Dredyn intercepts Zane’s path. Before Zane can react, Dredyn’s massive hand fists the front of Zane’s bomber jacket and slams him back against the brick wall of the hallway. The remaining students skitter away with startled gasps.
Talon is right behind. “Private conversation, folks. Move along,” he barks. The curious onlookers scatter; no one wants trouble with Omega Chi Kappa’s infamous trio.
Zane recovers from the surprise quickly. To his credit, he doesn’t shriek or cower. Instead, he sneers up at Dredyn. “If you wanted my attention, Steele, you could’ve just sent a text.”
Dredyn bares his teeth in something like a grin. “Keep yapping, Beaumont,” he growls. “See what happens.” He doesn’t loosen his grip. At five-eleven, Zane isn’t small, but Dredyn holds him, pinned one-handed, like he weighs nothing at all.
I step in silently, glancing once down the hall to ensure no professors or campus police are watching yet.
In one smooth motion, I shoulder open the nearest door—an empty faculty office—and jerk my chin at Dredyn.
Inside. He understands immediately, frog-marching Zane through the doorway.
Talon slinks in after them, and I slip in last, quietly closing the office door behind us. The lock clicks under my thumb.
Zane straightens his jacket with a huff as Dredyn finally releases him, then he backs up against the desk, smoothing a hand over his chest where Dredyn grabbed him. “Jesus. All this fuss just to talk? You boys really know how to make a guy feel special.”
Talon steps forward, flipping a chair around to straddle it casually. He rests his arms on the chair back, eyeing Zane with a lazy grin. “We aim to please,” Talon says lightly. “Now, how about you return the favor and answer a few questions?”
Zane rolls his eyes dramatically. “Ugh, twenty questions with the Sinful Trinity? Lucky me.” He flicks his gaze in my direction and adds, with a mocking pout, “Though I guess it’ll be more like nineteen questions, since Jasper here doesn’t exactly do the talking thing.”
Dredyn takes a menacing step closer, but I swiftly raise my hand in a small gesture.
“Hold.” He halts instantly. One subtle sign from me is all it takes to rein him in.
Dredyn trusts my read on a situation, and right now, I want Zane to keep talking, not choke on his own teeth.
Zane notices my intervention, and I see confusion ripple across his face.
He was expecting Dredyn to throw the next punch, but instead, the big guy stopped on my silent command.
That realization makes Zane swallow hard.
“Listen, Zane,” Talon says, “We’re not here to play around. Mara’s gone MIA—blocked our calls, vanished. We know her father had a hand in it, we just need the details. And you’re going to give them to us.” The pleasant lilt of his voice only heightens the underlying threat.
Zane crosses his arms over his chest, lifting his chin. “Even if I did know something, why would I tell you?” He sniffs. “So you three can go storming the castle? Please. Haven’t you done enough damage? Her dad’s livid, in case you missed that memo, too.”
Dredyn bristles, planting one huge palm on the desk beside Zane, leaning in. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he snarls. “We didn’t do a damn thing to Mara.” Well, not in the way Zane’s implying, at least. Not yet.
Zane doesn’t back down, which is either brave or stupid.
Probably both. He glowers up at Dredyn. “No? You nearly broke one of her father’s security goons last night trying to stop them from taking her.
And let’s not forget the other chaos you kings of campus manage to cause on a weekly basis.
” He ticks an invisible list on his fingers.
“Public scandals, underground fights, some lovely hazing incidents—”
Talon snorts a laugh. “You say that like you’re not impressed, darling.”
Zane aims a withering look at Talon. “The only thing that impresses me is that Mara put up with you psychos.”
I catch Zane’s eye and hold it. My stare doesn’t waver. I say nothing—I never do—but I let him see the promise in my gaze. We will not leave here without answers.
Zane’s defiant facade falters. He wet his lips, the first real crack in his composure. “Look, guys…” he starts, shifting on his feet. “I—I don’t know what you want me to say. Mara’s gone. I’m as in the dark as you are.”
He’s lying. It’s subtle, but I spot the tell: a flicker of his eyes toward the door, a reflexive twitch as he says in the dark. Zane knows something.
Talon sighs, a dramatic, put-upon sound. “Zane, Zane, Zane…” he muses, shaking his head. “You’re a terrible liar. Cute, but terrible.” He drums his fingers on the back of the chair. “Let’s try this another way. How about we list what we do know, and you can fill in the blanks?”
Without waiting for permission, Talon begins ticking off points on his fingers in a parody of Zane’s earlier gesture.
“Point one: Yesterday, after class, Mara’s dear daddy and his goons swooped in.
Dredyn, here, attempted to intervene in his…
diplomatic way.” Talon smirks as Dredyn grunts.
“Didn’t work out. Mara was taken away in Daddy’s armored car. True so far?”
Zane presses his lips together but gives a small nod. True.
“Point two: The night before, Asher Blackwood, was conveniently murdered on campus. Big scandal, everyone’s on edge.
Now Mara’s father—presidential hopeful and notorious control freak, Clark Black—is extra spooked.
So he decides to keep his little girl under lock and key for a while.
Perhaps until things cool off… say, after the election in three weeks? ” Talon cocks his head. “Am I warm?”
Zane’s jaw tightens. He doesn’t answer, which in itself is answer enough.
Dredyn lets out a low growl. “Where is she, Zane?” he bites out. “At her father’s estate? Some safe house? We know she’s not in her dorm.”
Zane’s shoulders slump a fraction. He realizes this game is over; we’ve pieced together enough. “She’s… home,” he finally admits, voice quieter. “Her father took her back to the family estate outside the city—security’s tight as hell. Milo’s with her, watching her like a damn hawk.”
Dredyn slams a fist down on the desk at the mention of Mara’s twin brother. Papers jump and the coffee cup rattles. “That snake. Of course, Milo is helping Daddy play jailer.”
Talon’s expression hardens. “So, they really pulled her out of school,” he murmurs, as if tasting the bitterness of it. “All because of last night?”
Zane exhales, some of the fight leaving him.
He leans back against the desk for support.
“You have to understand, Asher’s murder freaked everyone out.
A student dead in her building? Clark’s not taking chances.
And…” He grimaces, brushing a stray lock of chestnut hair from his forehead.
“He’s pissed about the… ah… influences in her life recently.
You three, obviously.” Zane gestures at us vaguely.
“He thinks Mara’s gotten… distracted. The campaign can’t afford any missteps from his daughter right now. ”
I bite back a snarl. Clark Black should be afraid. He nearly lost her to us in every way that matters.
“He’s cut her off completely,” Zane continues, eyes downcast. “No phone, no internet. Probably hopes the distance will… I don’t know, make her forget you exist.” He snorts humorlessly. “As if she could.”
Talon, still straddling the chair, drums his fingers again.
“All right, so Control-Freak Daddy locked the princess in the tower for a few days. Maybe until after Election Day. Fine. But there’s something else, isn’t there?
” He narrows his eyes shrewdly at Zane. “Your face is telling me there’s one more piece you’re holding back. Spill, Zanie.”
Zane winces at the nickname. He hesitates, then blurts, “He’s… positioning her for a different future, okay? One that doesn’t involve you.” The words come tumbling out in a rush. “Clark and Milo, they’re arranging things—tightening the reins. And part of that is… is Chase.”
“Chase Harrington?”
Zane nods, chewing on his lip. “Yeah. You know, two political dynasties joining forces. Power couple and all that crap.” Zane rolls his eyes, but there’s anger underneath.
“Clark practically shoves Chase in Mara’s face every chance he gets.
Milo isn’t subtle about it either—keeps dropping hints that Chase would be good for her. ”
My vision tunnels for a moment. Chase Harrington…
heir to the Harrington family. Son of James Harrington, a Syndicate kingmaker.
Of course his son would be groomed as part of their plans.
But my mind snags on something else entirely: a memory, hazy and half-buried, begins to surface.
A bright grin. A blond boy in a tailored suit offering an older girl a drink at a gala. Her laugh, like wind chimes…
My heart thuds dully. Could it be…? I breathe out slowly, fighting to keep my face impassive.
Dredyn curses under his breath, drawing me back. “That son of a bitch thinks he can just hand her off to some preppy Syndicate puppet?” He looks about ready to put his fist through the wall. “Over my dead body.”
Talon’s expression has gone cold, the charming mask slipping to reveal real anger.
“Chase Harrington,” he repeats softly. “So that’s their plan?
Keep her under watch and polish up Prince Fucking Charming as her future husband?
I’m guessing they’ll trot them out as the perfect couple just in time for election optics. ” He sneers. “Disgusting.”
Zane’s shoulders sag with relief now that the secret is out. “Mara hates it,” he says quickly. “She can’t stand Chase. But you know her father… she won’t have a choice if he decides to publicly tie her to him.”
Zane’s gaze flits between the three of us. “I told you what I know,” he says quietly. “Now… what are you going to do?”
Dredyn answers in a heartbeat, voice low and feral. “We’re going to get her back.”
Talon nods, a slow predatory smile unfurling. I feel the darkness in me coil with agreement. Mara Black belongs with us, not in some gilded cage with a fake prince.
Talon rises from the chair and stretches, as if shaking off the last bit of restraint.
“Appreciate your cooperation, Zane.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small slip of paper, stepping forward to tuck it into the front pocket of Zane’s flashy jacket.
“Do us a favor and pass her a message, yeah?”
Zane plucks the paper out, eyeing it. I know what it is without needing a peek—an address scrawled in Talon’s handwriting. The safehouse. It’s a remote lake house outside of town that OCK keeps off the books for… well, let’s call them sensitive situations.
“Tell her we said this, word for word,” Talon continues, as Zane reads the note. “Red Ridge Safehouse, whenever she’s ready. Got it?” Mara will understand that, no matter what her father plans, she has a way out and a place to run. A place with us.
Zane blows out a breath. “Okay.” He straightens his jacket and musters a weak smile. “Well, this was just lovely. We should do brunch next time instead.”
With that, Zane slips out into the hallway and is gone.
Dredyn quickly peeks his head out to ensure the coast is clear, then shuts us back inside for a moment.
The three of us stand in the hush of the emptied office, adrenaline still thrumming in the air.
We got what we came for, but none of us feel relief.
Talon rakes a hand through his red hair, muttering a curse. “Mara’s father has officially lost his goddamn mind,” he says. “Does he really think he can just erase us from her life? Parade her around with Chase Harrington like some prized doll? It’s sick.”
At the mention of that name again—Harrington—I realize I’ve been standing stock-still, my heart pounding a heavy, familiar rhythm. There’s a prickling at the base of my neck, an instinctual alarm I haven’t felt in years. Harrington. Why does it feel like that name is carved into my bones?
Without thinking, my hands lift and I begin to sign the name in sharp, precise motions. “CHASE. HARRINGTON.” I spell it out once, twice, my fingers rigid. I’m lost in thought, sifting through old memories that suddenly don’t seem so buried.
Dredyn notices. He steps closer, brow furrowed. “Jas? What is it?”
I blink, realizing I was signing unconsciously. My hands fall still. Talon watches me curiously, and Dredyn’s green eyes narrow. “Why? Who is he to you?”
I hesitate. Fragmented images swirl in my mind: a girl’s delighted laughter, an Academy Awards night, and that same name whispered under breath a long time ago…
Slowly, I sign back, “Not sure.” Then, pressing my lips together, I add in quick gestures. “He’s connected to… Evangeline somehow, I think.” That’s as much as I can articulate right now.
“We’ll figure it out,” Talon says firmly, placing a hand on my shoulder. “If Harrington is a threat, we’ll handle him too.”
I give a curt nod, thankful that I don’t have to explain further right now. There will be time to unravel that web. For now, our focus is Mara.
Dredyn’s fists flex at his sides. “We’re not letting her go. I don’t care if I have to rip down the Black estate brick by brick.”