Chapter 18 Cooper
Cooper
The private jet lands in Flagstaff, the landscape is breathtaking in its harsh, arid beauty. Red rocks stand in the distance under the relentless sun, a stark contrast to the lush, green darkness of Wolfston. As the cabin door opens, a wave of dry heat washes over us.
My eyes squint against the blinding light, taking it all in. “Well, it’s hell of a lot brighter than our last crime scene,” I say as I slide on a pair of sunglasses.
“Feeling sushi again?” Reed asks, with a devious smirk plastered over his face.
“Hell no.”
“Smart boy,” Reed says, opening the door to the black Mercedes SUV waiting for us. “We’ll stick to a steakhouse, that way we should be clear of any chance of worms or incessant complaints about the rice.”
I chuckle as I slide in the passenger seat, his hand grazing the small of my back.
“Have you considered driving for Uber on the side? I would definitely leave you a five-star review,” I say as I buckle my seatbelt.
He glances at me with a death stare as he starts the engine. “Disregarding your offensive comment, just wait until you see the place that I have in mind. The steaks are bloody, the wine list is extensive, and the booths are private.”
The way he emphasizes private sends a familiar thrill through me—a mix of anticipation and the comforting certainty that our version of a date night still involves a criminal’s demise.
“Sounds perfect,” I say, leaning my head back against the seat. “We can discuss best practices on how to avoid accidental alien decapitations.”
His low snicker fills the cabin. “You are fricking natural.”
The compliment hangs in the air, as charming and burning as the Arizona heat. I let it soak in, a tender balm soothing parts of me that I didn’t know were raw.
“You, know,” I say, my gaze fixed on the horizon, “for a long time, I thought there was something fundamentally broken in me. That my taste for thrills was a flaw to be fixed.”
I feel his eyes linger on me, pondering my words.
“But with you,” I continue, turning to meet his salacious pupils. “I don’t feel splintered. It feels like a superpower. Our superpower.”
A slow, ruinous smile spreads across his face, raising his cheekbones and making my heart stutter. “That’s because it is, little mouse. And tonight, we’re going to put it to good use.”
I give him a loving glare, lacing my hand with his as I let the radio speak for once. His heat warms any remaining chill in my core. My head booms with bliss and malicious intent.
“So,” I whisper, the word barely audible over the radio. I can’t help myself. Some doors, once you know they exist, demand to be opened. “What’s the story between you and Zac?”
Reed’s fingers lock up in my grasp. “The story,” he says, voice flat, “is that our father pitted us against each other from the time we could hold a knife.” He glances at me, his expression cold. “He believed competition forged strength. That the strongest Quinn would rise to lead.”
His grip on my hand tightens almost imperceptibly.
“Zac enjoyed it. The savageness of it all. He ached to win. I just wanted it to stop.” He focuses back on the road, his jaw tight.
“The last time that we sparred, he was sixteen. I was eighteen. He wasn’t trying to win the duel.
He wanted to make sure I’d never be a threat again. He pinned me and went for my eyes.”
A cold knot forms in my stomach, a stark contrast from the heat of his touch. “What did you do?”
A slow, crawling smirk forms across Reed’s mouth. “I broke his arm in two places. Told our father that if he ever made us fight again, I’d break more than a bone.” He lets out a short, shallow breath. “I left for college a week later. And we haven't spoken since, until yesterday."
He looks at me again, a tender vulnerability in his gaze that he shows no one else. “He doesn’t see you as only an outsider, Cooper. He sees you as my weakness. The one lever he can use to shatter me.”
His confession hangs in the air. But instead of fear slicing through me, a cold, sharp clarity settles in my skull. I lift our joined hands and press a kiss to his knuckles, my eyes never leaving his.
“Then he’s even stupider than he looks,” I say, my voice soft but full of will.
“He thinks I’m your weakness. But he’s wrong.
I’m your advantage. And if he tries to use me against you, he’s going to find out exactly what this golden retriever does to wolves.
” The words leave my lips, fierce and certain, but inside my brain, a colder, sharper calculation begins to click into place.
He thinks this is about a fight. A duel between brothers. He doesn’t understand that his brother has been training me to be his second in command.
The memories flash through my mind—the flashlight in the Siren’s mouth, the chopsticks meshing gooey insides, the life draining from the mayor’s eyes. I am awakened. Emboldened with Reed.
Zacariah Quinn sees a golden retriever. A pet.
Something to be used as silly leverage. He doesn’t see the teeth I’ve been growing since I met his brother.
He doesn’t see the student who’s studied anatomy and knows exactly where every major artery is.
He sees a weakness, but I am a weapon that Reed himself has been cultivating.
I meet Reed’s terrified, awe-struck gaze, my heart steady with purpose.
Let him try. Let him think he can use me. He’s not hunting a docile, family pet. He’s walking into a trap of a trained apprentice who knows exactly how to mimic prey.
“Earth to Cooper,” Reed says, cutting through my thoughts. “We have a cult leader to exterminate. Please don’t fantasize about killing my brother—as much as I want to.”
A slow smile spreads across my face as I refocus on the highway ahead of me. “Who me? Fantasize?” I tighten the lace of our fingers. “I was just mentally preparing our shopping list. You know, Dawn dish soap, wine, holy water, industrial-grade lye…”
Reed lets out a dark chuckle. “Priorities, little mouse. First, we handle the false prophet. Then we can deal with family drama,” he says as his thumb strokes my knuckles.