19
For days, Nightshade had been here and she’d yet to find anything. Not one single bit of evidence linking Cotter to Mayhem.
Desperation snaked down her torso into her legs, and she stumbled down the steps to the first floor. She needed to eat. She’d just finished a grueling workout session in Cotter’s big training room downstairs. It had been an absolute dream for Nightshade—access to all the latest state-of-the-art equipment, rows and rows of weights, barbells, and rowing machines. She'd hoped that by throwing herself into an intense workout, she could burn off some of her restless energy and focus once again.
A hope that proved futile.
At least the house was quiet. Fernando was gone and the entire TF-S team had disappeared along with Cotter.Wait a minute–they’d disappeared. Which meant she had a chance right now to dig through a few more rooms she hadn’t managed to get to yet. Namely the west wing of the second floor.
So far Cotter’s study and bedroom had turned up absolutely nothing. And every time she went searching, she’d run into Merc, completely losing focus. She'd never reacted that way to any man before, helpless to stop the strong forces that seemed to draw them together and ignite an explosion.
Nightshade shook her head and hung a hard right down the wood paneled hallway to the kitchen. Merc would hate her when he found out the truth. She had no future with him. No bright sunny day in a white house with a picket fence and children running around the yard. She'd dedicated her life to Mayhem and by God she’d sacrifice having a life of her own for them, one where she didn’t have to put Mayhem’s and Mankel’s needs above hers, if that's what it took.
She paused outside the kitchen door, listening to make sure Francis wasn't bustling about. The last thing she needed was to get caught in an hour-long lecture on her poor eating habits. That woman was skinny enough to blow over in a strong wind, and yet every opportunity Francis got, she shoved food down Nightshade's throat. But she knew that Francis truly loved Caroline and was trying to care for her in the best way she knew how, and for that, Francis would always hold a special place in Nightshade’s heart.
After she took down Cotter, she'd make sure Francis and Harriet and Fernando were taken care of. She'd set them up in a comfortable home and make sure they never had to work another day in their lives. Maybe later, after things settled down, Caroline could go visit them.
Nightshade went into the kitchen, thankful it was empty, and straight to the pantry. She’d spied the hidden treasure trove this morning when Francis had plopped her down at the kitchen stool and quickly mixed up blueberry pancakes with whipped cream topping – a complete waste of calories but so delicious her toes curled.
Careful to remain quiet in case Francis hovered nearby, she pressed the hidden latch on the pantry door and stepped inside. Rows and shelves stacked from the floor to the ceiling were filled to the edge with dry goods and canned food and endless spices she couldn't name. After five minutes of digging she gave up on the hope of finding a protein bar and settled for honey wheat granola instead. At least the carbs would curb her appetite for a minute. She scarfed it down, tossed the wrapper in the trash and left the kitchen.
Careful not to brush the walls with her sweaty arms, she glided down the hall into the empty dining room.
Nightshade took a step and faltered. Caroline was used to living in luxury - how would she adjust to Nightshade’s harsher and stark lifestyle? She’d lived off of military grade issued sheets and hard-as-a-rock bunkbeds her whole life. Hell, she’d rarely had her own bedroom, usually forced to bunk with three of her other teammates in their barracks. They lived off what they needed to survive, eating to maintain their strength, staying hydrated with water out of the Camelback… the dread she managed to forget for a moment returned full force.
She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. Caroline wouldn't care. Not when they were truly reunited and she could prove to Caroline that her entire life had been a lie and that Tom Cotter was not Caroline's father. Yes, that's what she needed to do. Rescue her team and give Caroline cold hard facts.
With a renewed need for vengeance and action, Nightshade picked up her pace and breezed through the ballroom and study, out into the grand foyer. Second floor. West wing. It was the next logical place. She took off running up the stairs, did a quick sweep of the upper-level to find it empty, and headed left into a darkened hallway lined with plush carpets, beautiful paintings and statues.
There were three doors, two on her left and one on her right. Everything looked exactly the same, except for the security panel next to the door on her right.
Her heart kicked over and plunged into her throat. This was it. She was minutes from finding out her teammates’ location.
She stretched out her hand, trembling with anticipation, to the silver panel with a numerical keypad letting her fingers hover above the number five. Her sister’s birthday month.
“Caroline!”
Nightshade jerked her fingers away, curling them into a tight fist.
“Caroline, I’ve got a surprise for you.” Cotter's voice rang out loud and clear and was threaded with determination.
She’d been so close. So close.
“Coming!” She ran down to the small servant’s hallway at the other end of the second story, ran up to the third floor, then back to the landing on the main staircase of the third story so it would look like she was coming from her bedroom.
She stopped at the top of the stairs and noticed that Cotter looked more refreshed than she'd seen him looking in days.
“What's up?”
He grinned and flagged her downstairs. “Come here. I’ve got something that I think will make you very happy.”
Curious by his good mood, Nightshade made her way to the main floor and stepped off the staircase.
“I've been trying to figure out what I could do to help you recover, and I realized I wasn't the answer.” Cotter stepped aside and swept his right arm out, gesturing for her to proceed with him into the study.
She took a hesitant step forward, having absolutely no idea what he had planned, and glanced over her shoulder in question. Did he know she’d been snooping around? Was this a set up?
As if sensing her disquiet, Cotter glided forward and slipped his arms through hers, patting her arm. “Come on, I'll go with you. I promise you’ve got nothing to be nervous about.”
