Including joining him at his lodge, along with the Snyder Group. The men spent years—the same years they watched Cora and me—infiltrating Rune’s inner circle. Now that they have gained an invitation to Rune’s lodge, it’s my job to ensure they are accepted and have Rune’s full trust. Then get us all into that lodge and access to the weapons, by any means necessary.
How?
That one is up to me.
“You’re not supposed to be out here,” a deep voice says from behind me. I start, my hands gripping my jacket as I spin. 57 stands in the doorway to the kitchen, hands in his pockets, mask removed.
I was right. He’s blonde. But I wasn’t expecting the weak chin or the thin lips that pull down at the corner like he has a permanent frown.
Then again, if I was raised by Fallon, I’d be mad too.
“Fallon said I can walk around freely,” I tell him. “Go ask him.”
My heart kicks when a smile curls his lip. The dim glow of the little light hanging by the back door turns his features harsh, bringing out the dark black bruising under his eyes. Sinister in a way that creates a crawling feeling under my skin.
“Is that so?” he asks, taking a step forward.
Every single instinct in me screams to move away, but I dig my boots into the marble chips lining the path of the back garden and stand up straighter. I came out here to be alone. To be closer to Cora. She loved it out here, tending the little garden beds.
I’m going to see her soon.My heart both swells at the thought and desperately aches.
“You can leave,” I say. “Go find Fallon, and he’ll confirm what I said.”
He makes a sound in his throat as his boot slides forward, and he takes the first step down. “I should bring you with me.” He winks as another smile cuts across his face. “Just in case.”
“I’ll just return to my room,” I say, not liking how his gaze drags over my body. Like he’s just waiting for this exact moment to have me alone.
He takes another step down, and his boots crunch on the gravel as he ambles forward, hands in the pockets of his black fatigues.
This time I take a step back.
“I’ll escort you,” he says. “Make sure you get there safely.”
My senses scream to run with how the words slip past his lips. Darkly lined with something worse than sinister. With a layer of hatred that makes the hair on my arms stand up.
“Unnecessary,” I tell him, doing my best to keep my voice even. I’ve been leered at, catcalled many times in my life, but my father’s name kept me safe.
Right now I know I’m not.
“Heard you like spreading your legs,” he says, and my heart-rate spikes. “Heard you take it with no complaints.”
My skin ices over. I take another step back, keeping my focus on him, suddenly all too aware of my lack of underwear. Not that the flimsy fabric would keep me safe, but the vulnerability that moves through me makes me press my legs together.
“Stay away from me,” I say, moving to the left.
He darts in my path, and my throat squeezes. I chance a quick glance at the back door, wishing someone, anyone, would come out here. The only exits from the little walled garden are the back door and the iron gate behind me.
“Get out of my way,” I say, taking a step to the side, debating if I should run past him or make a run for the gate.
Don’t turn your back on an enemy.Reaper has spent the last week instilling that into my head. I cross off the idea and focus on the man blocking my escape.
“Be careful,” I warn. “Fallon and his sons won’t like hearing you kept me from returning to my room.”
He lets out a cruel laugh, the sound cutting through me. “Fallon’s sons can’t touch me,” he snarls, and takes another step toward me. I widen my stance, feet shoulder-width apart, and angle my body like I’ve been taught.
There is less to hit. Think of a boxer, light on their feet, always ready to move. Keep them in your sights at all times. Watch how they move. Their arrogance is what takes them down. Find their weakness and exploit it.
He shifts toward me, and I move away. My little knife digs into my ankle. Relief floods me. I was so scared that I forgot I had it.
