13. Sebastian
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SEBASTIAN
Ihad to push back my session with Sensei Clark, and I’m now finishing up my session later in the evening than I’d have liked, which conflicts with my prime time for working out.
Sensei Clark has been working with River and me for some time.
He’s a small man, older, and filled with a head of gray hair, but he’s quick and tough and kicks our ass during training sessions.
“I see Ms. Stevie next,” Sensei Clark tells me as he switches out his cloth hand wrapping.
I wipe the sweat from my brow, glancing around the gym, thinking I might catch a glimpse of her walking in.
“Oh?”
“She is a precious one, isn’t she?”
I laugh. “Yeah, don’t I know that.”
“But tough,” he adds. “She has a calm confidence about her.”
My ears perk up at his comment. “I agree.”
“Last time she stayed at the manor, she spoke to me about her business and the reasons behind why she has chosen to spend her time with the deceased.”
“Hmm…” I trail off, ruminating on how my trainer could have an in-depth conversation with Stevie, but I haven’t seen that side of her yet.
To my surprise, I find myself a little jealous he got to spend some quality time with her.
“Sebastian?” I hear a feminine voice say my name.
I whip my head around to see Stevie in a matching black workout outfit that makes my head flicker with dirty thoughts like an old neon sign. She may get on my nerves, but I am human.
“I hear you’re next.” I fight the urge to drag my eyes along the tight spandex hugging each one of her curves.
Stevie kicks off her athletic shoes and steps onto the rubber mat. “I am. I have to stay in shape while I’m here, right?”
“And you know I’m a better trainer anyway,” Sensei Clark interjects with a smile, like they’re suddenly best friends.
“Debatable,” I quip.
“Don’t be jealous that I like him more than you,” Stevie plays. Her hair is tied in a loose bun on her head, revealing the delicate skin of her neck.
“Have fun,” I blurt out, and quickly exit the gym before either of them can respond.
I walk down the hallway of the West Wing and straight into my office.
I glance at the wall of screens, all displaying cameras from across the property, including the East Wing bedrooms. When I knew Stevie was moving back in, I had the bedroom rewired with a new camera system since River had access to the old one when Lux was staying here.
Which I shook off as an unnecessary obsession, but I find myself indulging in the same way.
It might be trust or something else that’s driving me to watch Stevie.
But whatever it is, I’m giving in to it.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I mutter with frustration, glancing at the bottom two screens that are turned off. One is her bedroom, and the other is her bathroom. I turned them off because I fought with myself about her privacy.
I slump into my leather desk chair, but before I can get too comfortable listening to the pattering of the forest rain outside the windows, the burner phone rings.
The Society.
My heart leaps into my throat. “Hello?”
“Who am I speaking to?” A familiar voice is on the other end of the line. Silas, the leader, is asking to verify he called the correct person—or that the right person answered the phone.
“This is the Dark Prince. Who is this?”
“Good. I have the next location for you and Ms. Annabel Lee.”
I straighten. “Go on.”
“We will be hosting a dinner party,” he begins. “A way to get to know you and Ms. Lee. And to get reacquainted with one another after our year-long hiatus. The members have only come to town in the last few weeks.”
I flip open my laptop and take some informal notes as he speaks. “Year-long?”
“Yes?” His tone sharpens, as if put off by my question. “Did Andrew not mention the frequency of our meetings?”
I have a million questions in my head—things I want to know. Assuming whatever he isn’t willing to say over the phone, I can simply revisit during the dinner party. “My apologies. He gave me a little information to respect the Society’s privacy.”
“Much admiration for that man.” Silas’s voice lightens, satisfied with my response. But his compliment makes my jaw clench because I know what kind of man Andrew Hughes was. “You will learn more at the dinner party. Where we’ll be able to speak freely.”
“Okay. Where and when should we expect this event?”
“Tomorrow evening. You will drive to the library downtown. When you pull into the main parking lot, follow the curve around to the back and park under the old oak tree. There, you will see a few other cars and a guard will confirm your identity before granting you entry to a storm cellar with two wooden doors attached at ground level.”
“How will he know it’s me?”
“I will text you a password that will get you in.”
“When?”
“When I’m sure you’re the one who’s showing up. Both of you need to wear the white roses.”
I guess I’ll have to get more flowers.
“We will. Anything else we need to be aware of?” I ask in a last attempt at more information.
“Make sure you bring something to prove yourself with.” A lightness in his voice sounds like he’s hiding a chuckle and like I should know what he’s referring to. I know it’s part of the role—the game we’re playing, but this secretive shit is pissing me off.
Unexpectedly, my cell phone vibrates on the glass top of my desk. It’s Christian calling to touch base about last night and the masquerade mall, but I let it go to voicemail.
“And that is?”
“Goodbye,” Silas says before the line goes silent.
With frustration, I toss the burner phone onto my desk.
“Dammit,” I mutter under my breath. I would never consider myself a person who needs to have control, but I’m realizing now that it’s partially gone, how essential it is.
My eyes dart over to my phone. I need to call Christian back. Snatching the device off my desk, then slumping back into the leather office chair, I swipe into his name.
As always, he answers on the first ring. “Sebastian.”
“Hey, man. Sorry I missed your call.”
“No worries. Just wanted a recap on how the masquerade ball went last night,” he says.
“They made us wait for a while after we arrived before they made contact. Then, once they did, we were instructed to find the library. There were seven people covered from head to toe in long, hooded cloaks.”
“Seven?” he repeats, confirming the count I stated.
“Yeah. And only two gave us their first names, but asked for my and Stevie’s monikers,” I continue.
“As we knew they would,” Christian replies, reminding me of the conversation of one of our calls.
“We were prepared for that.”
I hear him blow out a sigh. “What were you able to come up with for Stevie?”
With a slight chuckle, I tell him what she decided. “Annabel Lee.”
“Like the Edgar Allan Poe poem?”
“Yes.”
“I remember when we were kids, right after your parents died, River used to read us his poems.”
I chuckle to myself, remembering that time with mixed emotions. Then my eyes find the screen on the wall that links to the East Wing bedroom. I flip on the cameras and see Stevie isn’t back from her lesson yet. “She’s a dark, poetic woman. And extremely smart.”
Christian laughs. “After knowing her sister, I’m not the least bit shocked.”
“Right?” We share another moment of amusement before I return to business. “They gave me a burner phone for communication.”
“Oh?”
“Their leader, Silas, contacted me a minute before you,” I say. “We have another event to go to.”
“Events?” Christian clicks his tongue. “They hold events or meetings?”
“I guess both? That’s what it seems. It’s a dinner party tomorrow night. He also gave some odd directions on where to go, but that was it. He’s supposed to be texting a password to get into the event sometime before then.”
“Where is it?”
“The library downtown.”
“Interesting location for a dinner party.”
I lean back, kicking my feet up and resting them on the corner of the desk. “Yes, I know.”
“Were you briefed on what to expect at this event?”
“Only that we need to wear those fucking white roses again.”
“For identity again? Since they haven’t seen your faces, have they?”
“No, we were masked the entire masquerade ball.”
“Okay.” He pauses for a moment before speaking again.
“I also think you should be prepared with some type of token or offering. That will show you’re not a security threat and that you are who you say are.
Secret societies can be like this. It’s like initiation, orb that I’ve learned about through work, a sacrifice. ”
They’d expect to be given some type of display of loyalty. Understood. I glance around the room, my eyes darting around the space searching for something that will trigger an idea.
“He mentioned that, too. What about my knife?” I ask.
“Hmm, maybe.”
“My gun?”
“They won’t let you get past security with a weapon,” he points out. “You and Stevie will get full pat-downs.”
“I’m sure. But wouldn’t that be better because I’m sure they’ll want to take my gun, anyway?”
“Yeah.” He pauses for a beat. “I’m sure they know Andrew is dead, so it would make sense he wasn’t able to give you too many details about the group, so you wouldn’t know what type of things they could be asking you to offer.”
“That’s what we told them. We’re already on the same page. I’ve had to use that excuse a few times already.”
Not sure how this entire operation would be without a team.
“Now, for the goals of tomorrow night.”
“Ah, yes.”
I sit straighter in my chair. The rain is coming down harder outside, making the three sides of my office windows blurry with the evening storm. “Tomorrow night, Stevie and I need to focus on getting to know these killers.
“That’s right.” Christian’s voice lowers to a deeper tone.
The planning, the plotting—the hunt. His favorite part—and mine.
We spend the next few minutes talking out some key things to note at the dinner party tomorrow night, before I realize it’s been an hour since I left Stevie to her lesson with Sensei Clark, and that’s usually how long the sessions take.
I end the call with Christian and walk over to the camera wall and stare at the screens.
Scanning the screens, my eyes bounce from one room to the other, searching for Stevie. Then I spot her still in the gym, climbing from the bottom platform onto the second with her focus on the row of pull-up bars. Is she going to try the pull-up bars?
They’re difficult to master. I’ve got to check this out.
I sprint down the hallway with a lightness in my step in anticipation of giving her a hard time about them.
Only a few moments later, I round the corner through the double glass doors into the gym. Stevie is almost halfway across the set of eight bars. And from the looks of it, she’s stuck.
“Hi,” I call out to her, stepping onto the black mat. A quick glance around the room, I notice Sensei Clark has left. “How’s it going?”
With her arms extended, she’s hanging about ten feet off the floor. “Um, it’s going well.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I walk to the end of the row. “Looks like you might be stuck.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m relaxing.” Her focus is purposely trained away from me.
“Relaxing?”
“Yes.”
I slide my eyes along her outstretched body. But I’m quickly halted when I spot her reddened hands as her fingers struggle to maintain a grip on the metal.
“Would you like my help?” I ask.
She keeps her face angled away from me, hiding the pain she’s in. “No, I said I’m fine. I want to do it by myself.”
“I can help you.”
She turns back to me. “I’m trying to do a pull-up on my own. I can do it.”
Even though I’d love to watch her suffer, a protective urge suddenly forms in my chest. I ignore her decline of my offer and jump up to grab the metal bar. With force, I swing my body from one bar to the other until I’m hanging in front of her.
“Hi.” I smile.
Stevie’s hazel eyes flare, but the crimson shade that appears on her face tells me she’s blushing at our closeness. “What are you doing?”
“Helping you,” I say, swinging over to grab the same bar she’s holding. My body runs flush with hers. With a sharp inhale, I can feel her lungs fill with air.
“I don’t need help,” she whispers.
“Put your feet on mine.” Reluctantly, because she doesn’t have any other choice, she does it, resting her athletic shoes on top of mine.
Once she’s in place, I lift my body upward, pulling us both into a pull-up.
Stevie raises with me, and when our eyes meet above the bar, the corners of her mouth curve upward.
“Let’s do ten to start. Next time, we’ll do a few more. ”
“Next time?” she breathes out, lowering her body in sync with mine.
I bring us up a few more times, each motion bringing my eyes to lock with hers.
“Yes, next time,” I repeat confidently.
After a few more reps, the palms of my hands grow raw from the weight of us both.
She smiles. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Lowering after the last one, we hang in place, facing each other for a beat.
Her heated body softly rubbing against mine as I try to keep the tip of my nose from touching hers, but my eyes quickly fall to her light-pink lips.
And for a moment, I imagine what it would be like to kiss her.
To taste her and run my tongue across the front of her white teeth.
I need to get her off me.
“Slide down me,” I demand.
She hesitates, but then releases her grip on the bar and replaces it by wrapping her arms around my shoulders, then slowly lowers herself down the front of me.
Her warm body slips down my body. forcing her cheek against my chest, and her stomach and over my semi-hard dick—fuck, I hope she doesn’t notice.
Stevie’s athletic shoes hit the mat with a slap.
“Thank you,” she says.
“Of course.” Then I follow, meeting the floor in front of her. “So, I got a call from Silas, the leader of the Society.”
Stevie’s eyebrows snap together. “Oh?”
“He told me there’s a dinner party tomorrow night at the old library downtown,” I begin.
“And?”
“This is where they want to get to know us better. So, you’re going to have to improve your acting skills.”
“My acting skills?” she quips. “I did amazing last night.”
“I’m not saying you didn’t,” I reassure her. She needs to know how well she did. I keep my tone steady. “I am expressing the seriousness of what we’re about to do. Tomorrow night our goal is to get to know as many of these monsters as we can so we can begin picking them off one by one…”
“Or a couple at a time,” she adds cheekily, trying to lighten the mood.
But assuming Stevie isn’t as depraved as I am, she has to understand the level of danger in this next step.
I gently grab her hands to help her focus and cup mine over her soft skin. Holding them between us, I make sure my voice stays steady. “Each time we interact with them, things become more dangerous. I need you to understand that.”
Stevie’s beautiful hazel eyes stare up at me, her demeanor changing as she senses mine by the tone of my voice. “I know, Sebastian. And I told you I’d do this. I’ll be all right.”
Despite all the teasing between us, I believe her.