Chapter 51
Reeve
Even though Ines has stripped me of my glasses, I don’t need them to know who just walked into my cell.
I might not have been with Electra long, but it was long enough for me to memorize the sultry fragrance of her skin and the feline way she moves.
“Get out,” Electra growls.
The brown-skinned Atlantean, who’s been giving me hell for conning one of her people, pushes away from the wall she’s been using as a backrest.
“He’s my prisoner, not yours,” Electra snaps.
My reckless heart blanks the noun she uses after the possessive pronoun. Idiot organ.
Ines moves toward Electra. “I need us to sit down and speak.”
If only I could retrieve my glasses from the metal shelving unit that holds more pantry products than at my past job.
“I know you don’t want to talk to me, Elle, but I won’t leave until you hear me out.”
“If it’s to ask for forgiveness, save your breath. I’ll never forgive you.”
Will that be my fate too?
I don’t care whether I leave Tarian’s vineyard estate alive or not.
The only thing that matters…the only two things that matter are that the Atlanteans keep Quinn safe and away from Trenton, and that Electra forgives me.
I probably won’t get either of my wishes, even though I gave them more classified information than they’ve gathered over the last three decades.
“I’m not asking for your forgiveness, Elle. I’m simply asking for ten minutes, after which I swear to never approach you without your consent again.”
Electra snorts.
“You…and your family,” Ines adds.
The beat of silence that descends over the room tells me Electra is considering it.
“Even if I don’t like you, Ines, I’d never be selfish enough to keep you from seeing my family. All I ask is that I’m not there when you do see them.”
“I appreciate that.” Ines’s dark eyes glitter with emotion. “Can we have that conversation now or do you want to interview the Hunter?”
“We can have that conversation now. I have nothing left to say to the Hunter.”
I hate that I’m the Hunter.
Instead of pivoting and walking out the door, she heads toward the pantry shelves, probably to grab sustenance for the others.
“Is there a reason his glasses have been taken off?” Electra nears the chair I’m strapped to.
I crane my neck, her features becoming more crisp, and pull in deep drafts of her scent until it fills more than my lungs…until it fills my entire chest.
“Mal didn’t want to damage them if Rafferty proved uncooperative.”
“Did he…?” Electra asks. “Prove uncooperative?”
“No.”
Electra slides the branches around my upturned face, her fingers sadly keeping off my skin.
One of my lenses is smudged, but I don’t complain. At least, I can see my surroundings again.
“Thank you.” My voice is so hoarse it grates the air.
Her mouth is pressed tight, just like her jawline and eyes. Even her pupils seem taut. I want her to say something to me. I don’t even care what tone she uses. I just want her to bridge the distance that settled between us when Malachi hauled me down to the pantry, and Quinn into the wine cellar.
I’d been expecting cells with intricate lock mechanisms, but the Atlanteans—unlike the Holy Hunters—didn’t equip their houses with torture chambers. Or at least, Tarian didn’t. I wouldn’t put it past Monta to have a whole dungeon beneath his Texan estate.
God, to think he’s here, on this property. The man who not only murdered my parents in cold blood but also made trophies of their heads. Anger pulses through me, pushing away the cold that settled in my bones when Malachi trussed my ankles and wrists in zip ties.
“Actually, I do have one last thing to say to Rafferty. “Close the door and wait for me upstairs.” Electra says all this without turning away from me.
A breath later, the latch clicks.
“Why did you keep so many clues on you?” Electra nods to my shoes, then to my necklace. “To see how long it would take me to connect the dots? To ridicule me?”
“Never to ridicule you,” I rush to say. “My mother’s ring is the most precious thing I own and my last connection to her.
I live in an RV. I had nowhere safe to stow it.
As for the shoes, I used to think it was an oversight, but I think—deep down—I wanted you to know who I was.
I hated my mission, but I couldn’t see a way out of it. ”
“What exactly was your mission? Target Monta’s daughter and make her pay for the sin of her father?”
“No.”
Thin grooves ridge her forehead. “You said you chose me because I was his daughter.”
“I said it was one of the reasons, not the entire reason.” I wait for her to ask what the entire reason was. She doesn’t, so I volunteer it. “The other reason I picked you was because—”
“I was pining for Mal?”
My eyebrows slam low. “No.”
“Yet it came in handy, didn’t it?”
“I didn’t choose you because of your crush.
I chose you in spite of it. I chose you, Electra Serran, because when Trenton handed me your file, I couldn’t fucking tear my eyes off your profile picture.
” Before I lose her interest and attention, I confess, “My mission was to seduce you so I could score an invite onto your island and blow up the mine.”
Her pupils swell so fast they eat up their vibrant backdrops. “Why did you ever think seducing me would lead to an invite?”
“Because it’s how one of ours ended up on your island—Polly Tatum.”
When her eyes don’t narrow, I take it she’s heard of her.
“Tarian’s brother unmasked her before she could destroy the mine, but she set foot on your island.”
“You’re misinformed, Reeve.”
I frown. “We have satellite images of her on your island.”
“Not about her trip. She did come to Atlantis. I remember her. I still lived there at the time.” Under her breath, she adds, “Didn’t know she was one of yours, but I guess it makes sense. Explains her physique. That girl had more muscle on her than Sym’s usual type.”
“What was I misinformed about?”
“How she died. Symeon didn’t unmask her,” Electra says.
“Gaea did.” When my frown digs deeper into my brow, she adds, “Since you gave us Trenton, I’ll give you this one—Gaea is the name of our goddess, the one who inhabits our mine.
Symeon tried to give Polly magic; Gaea decided she wasn’t worthy and stopped her heart.
If you’d tried to enter our mine, you would’ve been struck dead before you could’ve rigged an explosive.
You do realize it was a suicide mission? ”
“I imagined it would be.”
“But you still went through with it?”
“Quinn deserves to be free.”
Electra’s throat strains like she’s struggling to swallow.
“That’s what you do for the people you love. You save them.”
Electra’s pupils shrink. “How touching.” She doesn’t look touched. I think it’s because she doesn’t believe me, until she swings the door open and says, “Should’ve swapped cars. You would’ve gotten your happily ever after.”
“That’s not—” The door bangs shut. “Electra!”
Fuck.
“Electra!” I yell again, but she doesn’t come back.