Keeping Secret
Page 14

Whenever I’d traveled for the Tribunal as an assassin—which hadn’t happened often—it was to budget motels or hotels with bad plumbing. The council didn’t have to stay there, so what did it matter to them?
Our party was whisked inside with a flourish, and I breathed a sigh of relief once we were out of the open air. Not that I didn’t want to see more of the city, but a vampire will burst into flames in the New Orleans sun the same as she will in New York.
Bellhops had already taken our baggage, so all that remained was for us to take our tired selves to bed. Lucas had the penthouse suite booked, naturally, and there were bedrooms on each end of the floor. The larger open-concept king-sized room was intended for Lucas and me, while the smaller but still stately queen room was for Dominick. As Lucas’s bodyguard, Dominick never went far from the king’s side, and now that we’d stuck our hand into a wasps’ nest, he would be on us like glue the entire time we were in New Orleans.
For once the idea of constant supervision didn’t enrage me. Instead I found Dominick’s presence comforting.
When we made our way into the suite, I could have hugged the hotel management for the thick, lightproof shades pulled over the windows. They were probably for the comfort and convenience of dulling post-Mardi Gras hangover headaches, but they’d do the job for a daytime-sleeping half-vampire too.
I made a beeline for the soft, plush white bed and collapsed face-down on it. My stupid pink hood with its goofy, fuzzy ears was still pulled up over my head. Within seconds dawn broke over the old city and I was dead to the world.
I was naked, but not in the good, fun, body-parts-bumping-together kind of way.
Walking barefoot through the forest, I followed a silvery trail laid out by the moon in the fragrant duff. The moonlight made my already pale skin ghostly white, almost pearlescent. I felt like a lunar goddess.
The path descended into a valley, and the trees gave way to lower bushes and spindle-thin saplings. Out here I felt my nakedness more acutely, as though the vulnerability of open space drew my attention to how exposed I was physically.
There was a large bonfire a hundred yards in front of me, and I followed the light. When I got nearer, I expected to feel warmth, but I was only dazzled by its brightness in contrast to the moon.
A woman stood on the opposite side of the pyre, so I skirted the protruding edges until I stood beside her. With the orange flame lighting her face, she looked younger than I remembered her being last. The glow softened the anger in her features some, but the hate-deadened expression in her eyes showed clearly.
“Mercy,” I acknowledged her.
“You never could call me mom, could you?”
“That would require you to act like a mother first.”
Mercy McQueen turned to face me, and at this angle her age showed in sharp relief to the flames, wrinkles I’d never noticed before looked deep. “What is it some mothers say? I brought you into this world, I can take you out of it?”
Alone with her, carrying no weapon except a half-decade of training, I thought maybe I should be frightened. I wasn’t. Mostly I felt a pit of loss in my chest where a mother’s love was supposed to go.
“I have no fight with you,” I said.
“If only it was that simple.”
“It could be.” I stared at her for long enough she looked back into the fire. “You could leave me alone.”
“You’ve taken everything from me.”
“I did what had to be done.”
“And so will I. I will have you dead.”
“I’d like to see you try.” My jaw was so rigid it was hard to speak.
“You will,” she promised. “You will.”
I sat with Lucas and Dominick at the dining room table in our suite and recounted my dream to them. Dominick did his best to hide his disbelief over the validity of clues found in dreams. Lucas, on the other hand, knew firsthand how unusual my resting mind was.
“We never considered the Mercy angle,” he admitted. “I assumed if there was a trap, it would be related to Callum’s attempts on my territory.”
Dominick tore a chunk off a cheese Danish and popped it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. In the meantime, his blue eyes spoke volumes. When he voiced his opinion, he treaded lightly. “Not that I’m doubting you, Secret, but we can’t exactly go to our meeting with Callum and accuse him of luring us here so your mother can kill you. I mean, she almost did it in New York. Why would she need you here?”
“Pack support,” I suggested. “She had none at the end, after I removed Marcus’s pack. Here she’s royalty.”
“So are you,” Lucas pointed out.
I snorted. Very princessy of me.
I began to work up another argument as to why I thought the dream should be considered with more seriousness, but my ringing phone interrupted us. Lucas tried to hide his smirk over my ringtone.
“Hello?” I got up from the table and moved into the master bedroom for some privacy.
“Took a little vacation, did you?” Sig’s tone could have been mistaken for cheerful. I wasn’t fooled.
A shiver ran down my spine and I tried to gather my thoughts before speaking again. “Pack business.”
“Imagine my surprise,” he went on like I hadn’t spoken at all, “when I received a phone call last night…a phone call…from a frantic Oracle convinced you were in immediate peril. In Louisiana.”
Oh my God. Calliope had called him? Not only did the half god, half fairy never use the phone, she also hated Sig more than anyone I’d ever known. Broken hearts will do crazy things to people.
“Sig, I’m sorry. I had no choice.”
“Choice is a lie we tell ourselves when we do things we feel people won’t like.”
I said nothing.
“You won’t come back if I tell you to, we both know that.” He sighed.
“Not until I’m done here.”
“I expected as much. So I sent you something. It took a lot of time, money and favors to get it to you, though I somehow doubt you’ll appreciate the effort.”
Why didn’t I like the sound of that?
A knock at the door sent a shard of fear deep into my gut. “What did you do?” I asked the dial tone. Although he was gone, I still held the phone to my ear as I went to the door and swung it open. “Son of a fucking bitch.”
“Actually my mother was a lovely woman,” Holden said. “Now are you going to invite me in?”
Chapter Sixteen
It took some convincing to let Lucas allow me to leave with Holden and no guards.
“Like hell,” the wolf king said.
“I need to talk to him,” I countered.
“Talk to him here.”
I huffed a sigh and turned to the vampire for a little help. He dropped the two suitcases he was carrying—one looked suspiciously as though it came from my apartment—then he smirked.
Helpful.
“He can’t stay here,” Lucas continued.
“He won’t.”
“Actually…” Sure, now Holden wanted to be helpful.
“Shh-ush,” I hissed.
He grinned. I almost wished he were being grim and surly. Then his mood would match Lucas’s. And mine for that matter.
“Out of the question,” Lucas insisted. “I don’t trust his…discretion for one. Fucking. Second.”
“My orders supersede your opinion of my indiscretions,” Holden said, and on the last word he gave me a lascivious wink.
Oh for God’s sake. He was enjoying this.
“Outside.” I pointed to the door.
“Not now—”
“Yes. Now. That’s an order.”
My command sobered him up right quick. He nudged the yellow Coach weekend bag he’d brought, the one I suspected was mine.
“I brought you something.” Then he stalked back out the door.
“Secret.” My name was all Lucas said.
“This wasn’t my idea.”
The look on his face told me he didn’t entirely believe me. “Be that as it may, I need it undone.”
I didn’t bother explaining how Sig’s orders trumped mine and I couldn’t get rid of Holden if I wanted to. Instead I gave Lucas a tight nod. “You need to let me talk to him. I’ll take care of this. I’ll be safe with him.”
Lucas grumbled something and threw his hands up in the air before stomping back to the table.
I took that as permission.
Before going to Holden, I stooped over my bag and unzipped it. Desmond had anticipated Brigit would be choosing my clothes for me, but it seemed a different vampire entirely had snuck into my closet and done the job. Desmond was out often enough it wouldn’t have been hard, I was just hoping he’d think Bri had taken the items, not Holden.
Inside the small suitcase was an array of sharp-looking outfits to make me appear both royal and dangerous. Leave it to Holden to think of my clothing needs above and beyond jeans and sweaters.
Underneath a leather skirt I found the real treasure, though. Extra clips for the SIG I’d brought in my purse and a wooden box containing the dagger Desmond had given me for Christmas. I couldn’t wear the dagger now, having no coat suitable to hide the leg strap, but I gratefully took the clips of silver bullets.
Unfortunately, in spite of all the new and lovely clothes I’d had delivered, I couldn’t take the time to change into any of them. I didn’t want to give Lucas a chance to change his mind and refuse to let me leave. And I didn’t want to get his hackles up by getting dressed nicely for a chat with Holden. Sadly, the hoodie would have to stick around for another hour or so.
Shouldering Holden’s bag, I turned to the wolves. “I’ll be back soon,” I promised.
“You look ridiculous.” This was Holden’s idea of an apology.
“I don’t need any more motivation to want to shoot you right now, but thanks.” I pushed a beignet around on my plate then licked the powdered sugar off my fingers before chasing it with a big swig of coffee.