Okay, then. Garrett took Wren somewhere and is keeping the location hidden from Roman. That’s good to know. Is he keeping her hidden from Lucien and Cesar, too?
Roman continues yelling.
“What about my laptop? I have a password, obviously. No, I didn’t fucking forget it open on the desk.” A pause. “Oh, oh! Are you questioning me? So what? Do you think she’s a spy?” He laughs at that.
I have to stifle a groan. Roman really is an idiot, but it worked to our advantage, so at least there’s that. Unfortunately, Garrett doesn’t seem willing to tell Roman where Wren is, which means I can’t find out this way either.
“Fuck you,” Roman snarls into the phone and ends the call.
He groans in frustration and swipes his hand across the countertop, sending equipment crashing to the floor. Beakers shatter and tools scatter across the concrete. He stands there breathing hard, staring at the mess he’s made.
I decide to stick with Roman for now. I don’t have any other leads, and he’s my best chance of finding her. I watch as he calms down enough to start gathering the vials of Flame from the cupboards. He places them into a crate and seals it, then he makes another short phone call.
After about half an hour, two men arrive. They look around the laboratory with interest, and I gather they’re seeing it for the first time.
Roman gestures to the crate.
“Load it into the truck.”
He leaves without another word, trusting the men to do their job. But while they’re distracted studying the lab equipment, I make my move. I slide across the floor and pour myself into the crate, fitting carefully around the vials. It’s a tight space but I can manage it, molding my form to avoid putting pressure on the glass.
I feel the men lift the crate and carry it outside, then place it in the back of a truck. The engine starts and we begin moving.
I know they’re not driving to Wren’s location, but I don’t know what else to do. This is better than nothing. At some point, Roman must meet with his brothers, maybe with Garrett as well. I just need to stick with him, silent and hidden, and wait for the opportunity.
The drive is long, taking us through what feels like the entire city based on the turns and stops. When the truck finally parks, I slide out of the crate and flow to the back seat, where Roman is. I spread myself thin under the seat, staying out of sight. I can sense my surroundings and feel the vibrations and movements around me. I’m so used to this form that it’s not hard to orient myself.
Roman’s phone rings, and he answers only after he takes a few deep breaths.
“It’s all ready for distribution, yes.” A pause. “No, father, nothing is wrong. Garrett is exaggerating. Nothing will go wrong tonight.” Another pause. “We can wait a few days if you’re really concerned.” He sounds frustrated now. “Yes, I agree. Then everything goes according to schedule.” A pause. “No, it’s a good idea. Tell Garrett to bring her if it makes you feel better. But I assure you, she’s one of us. All right. Yes. Yes.”
He agrees a few more times with Viktor and ends the call, then groans and closes his eyes.
I feel a surge of relief. I made the right decision. From what I understand, Wren will be present when the distribution happens tonight. All I need to do is stick with Roman until then, and he’ll lead me straight to her. If the information from his laptop made it to the FBI, they should have everything they need to hit the Kyzers tonight. They’ll know when and where to strike.
My mind drifts to Wren. Is she hurt? Are they treating her well? Despite Garrett’s polite demeanor, I don’t trust him at all. I saw how he touched her on that surveillance footage, how he shoved his hand between her legs like he owned her. I can’t wait to tear him apart with my own hands and make him pay for putting his hands on her that way.
But I sigh, knowing the FBI won’t allow it. As a bodyguard working for the MSA, I’m not allowed to eliminate people except in dire circumstances, only when there’s absolutely no otherchoice. Too much paperwork. The MSA tells us to avoid making a mess if we can and let law enforcement handle arrests and prosecutions. If the FBI catches everyone tonight, I’ll have to be grateful for that and put my rage to rest.
I settle in to wait. Roman doesn’t move for a long time, just sits there with his eyes closed. I focus on staying patient, on keeping my form stable and silent. Soon enough, he’ll lead me to her, and I’ll be able to see for myself that she’s all right. I’ll be able to protect her again, the way I should have been protecting her all along.
The thought of her alone with Garrett, and especially with Olivia, makes something dark and violent stir in my chest. But I push it down and wait. That’s all I can do right now. Wait, and trust that I’ll get to her in time.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Wren
I’ve been tied to this chair for hours, and my back is screaming at me. The rope around my wrists isn’t tight enough to cut off circulation, but it’s tight enough that I can’t slip free. At least they haven’t gagged me, and they took the bag off my head when we arrived. Small mercies.
The bedroom is oppressive in its luxury. Olivia is a maximalist, and it shows. Oh my God, how it shows!
Crystal vases crowd the dresser, porcelain figurines line the shelves alongside leather-bound books that look like they’ve never been opened, paintings in gilded frames cover nearly every inch of wall space, and in the corner stands a taxidermied peacock with its tail fanned out in a permanent display. I hate taxidermy. The faint musty smell it gives off makes my stomach turn.
The curtains are drawn, so I have no idea where we are or what time it is, though I think it’s late.
Olivia was with me earlier, sitting on the edge of the bed like we were friends having a chat. She fed me a chocolate praline with her own hand, her fingers brushing my lips as she placed it in my mouth. She smiled and said I needed a bit of sugar in my system, and that this would all be over soon. Her kindness felt genuine in the moment, but I’m not stupid enough to believe it actually was.
Now I listen to her argue with Garrett in the living room. The door is closed, but their voices carry through.
