Chapter 21
Cain
The door of the garden suite clicked shut behind me, and the calm I’d been clinging to shattered. I cursed and drove my fist into the tunnel wall. Pain flared, but I barely registered it.
If Nyx hadn’t been playing me, then I’d fucked up.
I glared at the spidery cracks like the stone could somehow rewrite the past three nights.
I told myself she’d known what Baker had wanted and had come anyway, that we’d had no choice but to put her in a cell. But now that reasoning felt paper-thin.
I would’ve still brought her back to the island for her protection and mine. But we didn’t have to throw her in a cell. I could’ve fought Brien on that. I could’ve stood up for her.
Because Nyx—she’d chosen me. She’d done the best she could to save me from Nazaire’s machinations.
And me? I’d repaid her by imprisoning her.
I was still staring at the cracks when my phone buzzed. I shook out my throbbing hand and fished the device from my pocket. It was Brien, telling me to get to the war room ASAP.
No explanation, but I could guess—someone had reported that I’d moved Nyx from the cell. I grimaced and headed off.
Talon caught me at the next intersection. “What’s this about you and Nazaire’s spawn?”
My jaw locked. “I moved her to the garden suite, okay?”
He lifted his hands. “Hey, it was a question, not a judgment.”
“Sorry,” I muttered, heat crawling up my neck. “But I can’t take a crap in this place without someone running to Brien. And her name’s Nyx,” I added because she was more than just ‘Nazaire’s spawn.’
“Got it,” he said. “So… is Nyx still sick?”
“No, she’s better. That’s not why I moved her.”
“Then what’s up? You need me to back you, I will, but you gotta give me something to work with.”
“It’s something Rio said. If we want Nyx on our side, we can’t keep treating her like the enemy. Keeping her locked in a cell is only going to make her hate us.”
Talon gave me a sidelong look. “And maybe you were looking for a reason to let her out.”
“So what if I was? She shared intel with us, Tal. That was risky, and she didn’t ask for anything in return.”
“Agreed. But she also blew up our boat. And she showed for that meeting with Baker.”
“Yeah, about that. You really think she had a choice? The man’s a vampire, an enforcer. Can you imagine her just saying no to him?”
Talon blew out a breath. “Yeah, guess not.”
We’d reached the war room. I stopped, a hand on the doorjamb.
“She did what she had to do to survive,” I said. “From what she said, he only keeps her around because she’s useful. I’m pretty sure he’d already figured out she fed us intel, even before I sent those texts.” My voice roughened. “I just made it worse.”
I slapped my palm on the biorec pad and pushed the door open. “She’s still a prisoner. But locking her in a cell isn’t punishing Nazaire—it punishes her. And Nyx may be more of a victim of Nazaire than any of us realize.”
“Fuck.” Talon blew out a breath and followed me into the cavern.
Brien and Twilight were already in his office. Talon entered first. I paused to smooth down my white shirt, feeling like I was ten again, summoned to the principal’s office for breaking some stupid-ass rule. I pasted on a neutral expression and followed him, closing the door behind me.
Brien was leaning against the desk, arms crossed. Twilight perched on the edge beside him, her fishnet-clad legs crossed at the ankles, deceptively dainty in gold sneakers and a blood-red dress.
I gave my primus and prima a respectful nod—playing the game—while Talon took the leather armchair in front of the desk, knowing I’d rather stand, be free to pace.
I got straight to the point. “If this is about me moving Nyx from the dungeon, then maybe I overstepped. But she’s not the kind of woman you cage.
Keep her in that cell much longer and she’ll shut down completely, and we’ll never get anything out of her.
I promise, she’s contained—I’m keeping her in those two rooms. I’m not even allowing her into the garden. ”
Brien glanced at Twilight, the two communicating in that wordless way of a mated pair. I braced myself. I had to win this argument because I was damned if I’d let them send Nyx back to the dungeon.
But when Brien turned back to me, it was to say, “Okay. We trust your judgment.”
The tightness in me eased a little. “Thank you.”
“Actually,” said Twilight, “it’s smart to keep her somewhere with access to the outside. If and when Nazaire’s people come hunting for her, it may lure them into making a move. We have a camera on both doors, right?”
I nodded. “We do, and the alarms are set. No one’s getting within ten yards of her without us knowing.”
“Perfect.” Her smile was all sharp teeth. “Hopefully, Nazaire will take the bait. Save us the trouble of goading him to retrieve his daughter.”
“Might as well allow her the run of the garden,” said Brien. “Make it easier for someone to get to her.”
I stiffened. No fucking way. “Too risky.”
Brien cocked his head like he’d heard something I hadn’t said. “Because—?”
Because if they somehow got to her, it’d gut me.
But I wasn’t ready to say that out loud.
“Our security has been breached twice in the last few years. Twice that we know of, that is. The island’s too big, and we can’t be sure Nazaire doesn’t have someone on the island already, someone on his payroll. And I’m not letting that SOB get ahold of her. He knows about me—you read the texts.”
I’d forwarded the texts to the three of them.
Brien and Talon nodded. Twilight’s brow wrinkled. “You think he’ll take this out on her.”
“I’d put money on it. It was a test—and Nyx botched it, thanks to me. If he gets ahold of her, there’s no telling what he’ll do.”
“Fine,” said Brien. “No garden access unless you’re with her. Now we’ve already laid the groundwork—hints about the castle’s supposed vulnerabilities. How else do we turn up the heat on the bastard?”
“Hit him in the assets,” Talon murmured from the armchair. “Bank accounts, investments. And maybe it’s time to leak that we have Nyx here on Lilith Island—that she’s one of us now?”
“The assets first,” I said, recalling how Nyx had begged me not send those texts, how important it was to her not to be known as a blood-rat. “If that doesn’t work, we can think about leaking the info about Nyx.”
The meeting turned to the best way to inflict financial pain on Nazaire. After, I dealt with the items needing my immediate attention, then grabbed a leather jacket and headed out of the castle. Needing to get out, go someplace Nyx wasn’t so I could think.
Outside, the moon had been up for hours. It hovered above the east turret like the eye of some enormous beast, watching me cross the cobblestones to the carriage house that housed our vehicles.
I eased my Ferrari into the courtyard, convertible top down, its gleaming black frame catching the moonlight. As I aimed toward the portcullis, Talon stepped out of the darkness, silent as one of the wolfdogs that patrolled the castle grounds.
He laid a hand on the passenger door. “Want some company?”
“You have to ask? Get in, mofo.”
He slung a leg over the door, sliding into the seat with an easy grace. “So, where’re we going?”
“Baker’s house. Valente’s on my case about it standing empty.”
I hit the remote clipped to my visor. The portcullis groaned and slid upward, the metal grille parting like the top half of a jaw. I pressed the gas, and we shot out of the courtyard, tires biting into the cobblestone.
“Why were you at that meeting, anyway?” I asked, steering us along the cliffside road. “Aren’t you supposed to be on parental leave?”
“You needed backup.”
I grimaced because he wasn’t wrong. “I appreciate it, but Eden and the little guy need you more. Which reminds me—why the hell are you out here with me?”
“They’re fine. Eden’s got half the castle waiting on her like she’s a damn queen, including Twilight’s halmoni—and you know that woman is scary.”
My lips twitched. “True.”
Twilight’s grandmother was a former slayer herself. She’d moved in and taken over, running the castle’s domestic operations along with Kerry, the official housekeeper.
“If you’re sure—”
“Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”
I whipped the sportscar around a curve, hugging the cliff edge. The wind off the Atlantic slapped our faces, ice-cold and laced with salt.
Beside me, Talon drew a slow inhale, looking out over the ocean. “It’s good to be out.”
“Yeah,” I said.
We drove in silence for a few minutes, then Talon said, “So Valente knows about Baker?”
He knew I’d offed the SOB, of course. I’d told both him and Brien that night.
“Yeah. They found him—enough to ID him, anyway.”
“Valente gonna be trouble?”
“Nah. Man just wants me to do something with Baker’s house. He didn’t make a will, and apparently Valente’s elected me the heir.” I swung left. “And here’s the turn.”
We bumped down a teeth-rattling driveway that would probably land the Ferrari in the shop for the next month and halted in front of the empty farmhouse. I cut the engine, the old, familiar unworthiness creeping up my nape, tightening my skin.
Talon got out first, looking up at the broken window, the one I’d tossed Baker out of.
“You should’ve brought me with you that night,” he said when I joined him on the gravel.
“I handled it.”
“But you didn’t have to. Not by yourself.”
“I know, but—” I lifted a shoulder, let it drop.
How could I explain that final confrontation needed to be just me and Baker? Maybe I’d wanted to prove to myself that he didn’t scare me anymore. That he was just a bitter, broken bully who no longer had any power over me.
Our eyes met, and Talon gave a slow nod. He’d been there for most of it, after all.
He vaulted onto the sagging porch and tried the front door, but it was locked. I stepped up beside him, the boards groaning beneath us.
He eyed the curtained windows. “What’s it like inside, anyway?”
“Falling apart—but the same. I don’t think he changed a damn thing after my aunt died. Like one of those nightmares that never changes, just waits for you to come back.” I grimaced. “Valente wants me to fix it up, maybe rent it out.”
A lighter appeared in Talon’s hand. He thumbed it open, and the flame flared to life, small but hungry. “Or,” he said, watching it dance, “you could just torch the place. Build something new.”
Hell, yeah. Deep inside, the wild, unwanted kid in me leapt up, grinning and whooping: Do it. Burn it down.
Lilith knew, I wanted to. Wanted the fire to swallow the memories, the echo of angry voices, the rooms where I’d learned to flinch.
Talon held the lighter up. “No?”
I jiggled my leg, staring at that bright, too-tempting flame.
A beat passed. The kind where you stop running from your demons and turn to face them. Where you accept your scars are a part of you and that you’re stronger because of them.
“No,” I said at last. “It will make someone a good home.”
He snapped the lighter shut. “You want my advice? Let the bank have it. Why should you deal with this crap?”
“That was the plan. But I promised Valente—and I think I need to do this, you know? Need to see it through.”
“Then throw some money at it. Hire a contractor and let them make the decisions.”
I shot him a look. “You think your mom would want to help—handle the details like trim, paint, all that?”
“Hell, yeah. Actually, she could use something to do. She’s still sober.” Talon’s expression was half-proud, half-relieved. “And this time, I think it’ll stick. She knows we won’t let her near Jude if she’s drinking.”
“That’s good, Tal.” I smiled back. “Great, in fact. So she’ll do it?”
“Of course. This kind of project is right up her alley. And she’d do it for you anyway. You always were her favorite.” He huffed a laugh. “Thought sun shone out of your ass, in fact.”
“The only person on the whole damn island who did.”
“Except me.”
“You were my blood brother. You had to love me.”
“Blood brothers.” He rumbled, amused. “We were what—eleven?”
“Twelve years and two months, and dead serious—at least I was. Figured if you were my brother, I had a chance at a family. Like your mom might see me as hers, too.”
The admission scraped out of me.
Talon and I exchanged a look. Then he punched my shoulder.
“Hey, I needed a brother, too. And my mom is yours—she’d say so herself.
She let you move in, didn’t she? Even when she was drinking, she trusted you, saw something in you that nobody else did.
” He slanted me a lopsided smile, the one that used to mean trouble and now meant look at how far we came.
“I saw it, too. Always knew you’d grow up to be somebody. ”
“Back atcha, dude.” I gave him a short nod and switched gears. “I’ll be in touch with your mom, then. And of course, I’ll pay her, whatever she asks. She’s doing me a favor. If you talk to her first, make sure she knows that.”
“Copy that.” Talon tipped his chin toward the house. “Now why don’t we see what it looks like inside?”
He raised a booted foot and kicked the door open.
In the end, the farmhouse held no ghosts, just dust and silence. The bones were solid, although the roof sagged and the house needed painting, inside and out, and the porch replaced.
I pulled out my phone, taking photos for Talon’s mom and the contractors. I’d warmed to the idea of taking the house on, of gutting the place, erasing every trace of my aunt and uncle and handing it off to a young family.
“We’ll have to rip out the kitchen and bathrooms,” I told Talon. “Start new. And that porch has to be replaced.”
“Up to you,” he returned.
I stilled, struck by the idea. “Yeah, it is.”
I could do whatever the fuck I wanted. The irony was satisfying.
After everything the Bakers had done—the arbitrary rules, the constant punishments—I was the one left holding the keys. Their precious house and what was left of their fancy antiques? I got to choose what stayed and what burned.
As the Ferrari rattled and bounced its way up the driveway, Talon said, “You know, I think you’re right to do this. You need some—what d’you call it?—closure.”
“Revenge,” I corrected, turning onto the cliff road.
“Nah. You already got your revenge. This is something else. Tying up loose ends…letting go.”
“Maybe. But it’s also revenge.”
We shared a wolfish smile.
I liked to think that somewhere out there, Baker saw my smile—and flinched.