Mason had guessed as much.
“And Jack Bastian has sent a message that Kaye Brand has survived her bout of mage plague and is recovering. The mage Council has been notified as well. Word has begun to spread that you were successful, though thus far, all the mage Houses remain closed. I imagine over the next days some will begin to venture out.”
Mason knew there had to be more. “The punch line, please.”
Laurence smiled patiently. “Our information suggests a growing consensus among magekind to replace Brand with Dolan, re-aligning with Dolan’s purist allies. This would be the end of cooperation between the Council and Order. It may be inevitable—few thought that Brand and Bastian’s peace would last. But if Brand is to be supplanted, we have high hopes that
your
partnership—human and mage—will continue and that peace is still possible.”
Mason felt Shadow rise in Cari. “It’s possible,” she said. “It’s what I want.”
Mason’s sluggish heart thumped. It was one thing for them to privately discuss continuing their “partnership.” But telling the Order as much meant that Cari had decided absolutely.
It wasn’t that easy—the Houses might not accept him, even as a Maker—but he’d steal any moment he could with her for as long as possible.
“I’m very glad to hear it.” Laurence dropped his gaze for a moment. “One last thing. Mason, I know that you are more than capable of handling yourself in a fight. And you have enough blood on your soul to do what you must efficiently. But I cannot quite understand how you could best Xavier. I don’t know if I could have beaten him, hand to hand, and I know I can beat you.”
At the moment, anyone could beat him. “I came up behind Xavier while he was concentrating on Cari.”
“A hundred of you could have come up behind him, and all perish.”
“He hesitated,” Cari said.
Laurence shifted his attention to her. “What do you mean?”
“He could have killed me, but he hesitated.”
“Xavier hesitated,” Laurence repeated, taken aback. “Why, when he’d waited so long already?”
Cari looked away. “I don’t know. He could’ve had me.”
Laurence’s eyebrows went up, his eyes going bright with feeling. “Perhaps he reconsidered his purpose.” He braced his weight with a hand to his knee as if his heart were too heavy to carry without help. “He was once my friend, you know. I hope he reconsidered. I hope he did very much. Because if
he
thought there was a chance, even if it was in the last moment, then I can believe it, too.”
The calls started coming shortly after the Order left. To the Houses, Cari was her father’s daughter in every way. She’d survived the plague, whereas other infected mages had died. She’d hunted down and identified the perpetrator, who was none other than an emissary of Order. And she’d exacted revenge for the honor of her House and the strength of magekind.
The calls all had a similar underlying message: Dolan could have it all. Meaning the Council, which had been her father’s ambition for her, too. The congratulations made her miss him. She would’ve liked to have seen the pride in his eyes. Would’ve liked to have had his advice on how to proceed. But she didn’t have him.
“He did not say anything outright,” Scarlet told Cari of Gunnar Martin, “but I think Martin House will back you if you decide to try for the High Seat.”
Cari’s hand shook as she put it to her forehead. She didn’t want to think or be careful. It felt tedious to her. She just wanted to feel. To be. To take. Which was Maeve’s residual influence. Where was the fae? But the old Cari had always done her homework, and would continue to do it. Family business was her duty, too.
“Did you make him any assurances?” she asked her stepmother. Would she have to do damage control for Scarlet’s meddling?
“I only said that you would take swift action.”
She shook her head. Definitely damage control. “Swift action to do what?”
“Why, to seize the future that your father always wanted for you.”
Okay. This needed to stop. “Scarlet, you are not to speak on my behalf or on the behalf of Dolan House.”
“This is the moment, Cari. You are too young to recognize it for what it is.”
“I recognize the moment just fine. I lived it. And I, and I
alone,
am planning Dolan’s next steps.” She just had to think through how she was going to make new allies, while appeasing her current ones. She was going to rock the boat, big time. “Scarlet, you will only embarrass yourself if you say or promise one thing, and I choose to do another.”
Silence. An old tactic to get Cari to back down, but she couldn’t afford to. “Put Zella on, please.”
Mason came into the kitchen from checking the property. He looked older, but his color was better. He kissed her on her head and got himself a glass of water.
Cari had asked for Zel, but got Stacia instead. “Oh-mighty-head-of-our—”
Which made Cari smile in spite of everything, remembering their conversation. “Stay out of my closet.”
“But I have to have the perfect clothes if I’m going to be entertaining potential husbands.” Stacia had sarcasm down pat—it was light and airy and full of bite.
Seemed like Scarlet had been very,
very
busy. She’d been running the whole Dolan show apparently. “Is she actually entertaining offers?”
“She’s got a list, Cari. And you promised that I wouldn’t have to get married.”
“You don’t. And you can tell Zel that she doesn’t have to either.”
“Mother will freak.” Voices rose behind the call. Scarlet’s was loudest. “Strike that. Mother’s already freaking.”
“I’ll take care of—”
Mason took the phone out of her hand. He looked at her expectantly, and when she nodded, so very grateful, he ended the call.
“You’re a busy girl.” He set the phone down next to her.
“Your phone’s been ringing, too.”
He frowned deeply. “Neither Webb nor my son has returned my calls. And they are the only ones I want to hear from.”
Cari had a call in to Webb as well. No message back.
She’d told Laurence that she intended to maintain a partnership with Mason, and Fletcher was the key to that.
“I imagine there are offers waiting for you,” she said, hoping he’d drop a hint. Some smart, strong House would claim him soon. And she’d have to counter, just as fast.
“I’m waiting to speak to Kaye.”
Brand. Her other competition.
“You haven’t heard from her? What about Jack Bastian?”
“Nothing from them yet.”
“And you’re loyal to her?” The thought made the room darken slightly.
His hand went gently around the nape of her neck, mouth settling on hers. Felt good, but that wasn’t the answer she wanted. She ignored the flutter in her belly.
“I need to find out what’s going on with Fletcher, and Kaye can make Webb answer.”
“You’ll have options now.” All those messages.
He skimmed his knuckles down her bare arm. “Princess, I always had options. I want you.”
Her face warmed. Her chest filled with pressure. “I come with trouble. It might not be wise to stay too close.” They hadn’t discussed the fae problem. Cari didn’t even want to mention Maeve’s name.
Mason put a strong hand to the back of her neck and massaged. She loved his hands. She’d have claimed him for his hands alone. The fact that they were attached to the rest of him . . . easiest decision ever. She couldn’t wait to make him hers. If Webb or Brand would just call her back so that she could claim Fletcher, too.
“This is not the first time a fae has crossed,” Mason said. “Segue has had experience with several others. Now that the wraith threat is somewhat under control, their time is taken up more and more by the fae. There
are
resources. We have a base of knowledge to draw from. We need to assemble a team of people we trust. And we’ll come up with a solution.”
“There’s an obvious solution.”
“Even Xavier thought better of it. And you were pretty wicked looking.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah?”
Was wicked good?
His eyes lit as he bent his head to kiss her again. “Oh, yeah.”
She guessed it was.
His mouth moved against hers in a caress. With his hand at the base of her skull and his lips pressing hers, her tension eased. Maybe it would all work out. They’d faced an ancient angel. What was an immortal insane fae, really?
“We should get you back to Dolan House,” Mason said, pulling away.
Cari nodded, regretful. She had a lot of work to do, and it was best done from her father’s office. “But I want you to know, I love it here.”
“We’ll come back.” The lines around his eyes were smooth and easy. He meant it.
She went upstairs and he followed. She changed into her own clothes, though wrinkled. Ran a brush through her hair, and then tried for a smart ponytail for the boat. She put on mascara, but the blush in her compact had cracked and now was a crumbly mess. Well, only her stepmother would expect her to look polished after fighting an angel.
She was just lifting her bag, on loan from Layla, when Mason leaned into the bedroom, gun in hand. “Someone just broke through the water line.”
Groaning, she dropped the bag. “What now?”
“Maybe someone doesn’t want you to try for the Council.”
She screwed up her face. “Preemptive assassination?” This just got better and better.
They both froze when footsteps sounded on the back porch. Mason put his back to the wall and pushed her into the bedroom. Very gallant, but she wasn’t hiding.
The back door downstairs opened, the screen banging shut.
“Hello?” a female voice called out.
Maria?
Cari mouthed to Mason. The nanny.
He shook his head no.
Didn’t sound right anyway. The voice was too young. Too familiar, though she couldn’t place it.
“Mason?” the voice called again.
Then Cari knew. Her stomach cramped. She’d utterly forgotten to consider one other House, one other woman, who might claim Mason and Fletcher.
“Son of a bitch,” he said.
Bitch was an apt word to describe her.
“Mason?” Livia Walker called. “I’m home.”
Stealth peed inside the wall between Mr. Webb’s office and the little study where the old lady, Bran’s aunt, liked to read. The yellow arced like a stripe of rainbow in the beam from his stolen flashlight and splashed on the wood.
The search dogs had led the house guards to the places where he’d gone to the bathroom. The first time had just been lucky, but after that he’d made sure to pee everywhere he could fit, except the hidey-hole where he slept and kept his stolen grub. Too bad he couldn’t get at a phone. His had been found and the one on the kitchen wall had been dismantled. They were on to him.
“Well, we now know what the child can do,” Mr. Webb said to one of his men. They were on the outside of the wall, in the hallway that led to the office. “And it makes sense, considering he has
Walker
blood. I should call them and find out what they do to keep hold of their children.”
Fletcher frowned. He hadn’t thought this superpower could come from his mom. The idea made him feel funny inside. She hadn’t wanted him, but he was still connected to her. He was like her, even though she’d left him behind. He wanted to be like his dad. Would his dad be mad if he was like her? Was that why he’d been left behind again? Why hadn’t his dad come yet?
“I’ve had enough of this,” Mr. Webb said. “My office is beginning to smell. And now that Brand is recovered, she’s going to press me about him. The stray has already left several messages.”
Fletcher’s chest went bright. His dad had been calling. He’d come and get him soon.
“Bring me Bran. It’s time I ended this nonsense, and my heir should see how it’s done.”
Six years. She’d walked out six years ago. And now she thought she could just walk back in? “Stay here,” Mason said to Cari. “I’ll get rid of her.” Took balls for Liv to call this house her home. He was going to throw her in the water and let her swim the half mile to shore. What if Fletcher had been here? What would this have done to him?
Mason put his gun in the back of his pants and started down the stairs. Cari, who always did as he said, followed at his heels.
They did not need
this
now.
Liv was just stepping around the sofa when he spotted her. Her blond hair was lighter, styled a little loose and curly. She’d gone with a red dress that showed a lot of cleavage and a lot of leg. She had gold around her neck, on her wrist, and her fingers. And a crocodile smile that turned into a grimace when she spotted Cari behind him. “Cari,” she said by way of hello.
Mason braced himself with one hand on the wall. “What are you doing here, Liv?”
She rapid-blinked to brighten her smile again. “I have news.”
“You have nothing to say that could interest me.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” She was doing the posing thing she used to do, where she’d shift her weight to accentuate her curves. He used to like it, but now he wondered if she was going to eventually throw her back out.
“And this isn’t your home,” he added. It hadn’t been for a long time.
The Shadow in the air grew more dense. Not a good sign.
“I believe my name’s on the deed.”
Okay, that had been stupid of him. He’d wanted so much to make his own House with her that he’d put the place in both their names. “I’ll buy you out.” He didn’t have the money right now, but he would get it. The messages on his phone meant that he had job offers. He’d take the dirtiest and give Liv a pile of money she didn’t need.
“I don’t think so.” Her scent hit him—a perfume toned low and sensual. It was the scent that chiseled through his anger to where the pain of her leaving was stored. For her he’d tried to build something solid. Something that he could depend on. She’d made promises.