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Then there was the fact it was Eden, the thrall who’d used her position to spy on us. Would Brien allow me to turn her? It was one thing to accept her back as a blood-bonded thrall, but asking him to welcome her into the syndicate was a whole different beast.
And that supposed Eden said yes. Not everyone made it through the transition. Could I ask her to risk her life for me?
The elation cracked like a broken plate, shattering at my feet.
Because no, I couldn’t ask her to risk her life for me, a man who’d never be able to give her what she really wanted—my love. That wouldn’t be fair to her. It was best for both of us if she stayed human, and a thrall.
Even if the thought of someday losing Eden filled me with a sick helplessness.
I turned off the shower and toweled off like a goddamn zombie. Stiff limbed. No feelings.
I was pulling on tactical pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt when Cain came to my door. I padded across the living room in my stocking feet to let him in.
“You’re up. Good.” He brushed past me, clearly agitated.
“What’s wrong?” The prickle of unease grew into a buzzing in my brain. “Not Eden—?”
“Eden?” He shot me an odd look before shaking his head. “No. It’s Esposito. He’s on the island.”
It took me a few seconds to comprehend through the buzzing. Then my stomach dropped. Another part of my life I’d lost control of.
“Since when?”
“Earlier today. He came in on the ferry—the PI watched him get on it and alerted Adrian. Adrian met the ferry himself, but Esposito never got off.”
“Shit.” Going to the wet bar, I poured a couple of shots and passed one to Cain. “Adrian searched the ferry?”
“Yep. He called in another soldier and they went over it with a fine-toothed comb. And the ferry doesn’t return to Halifax until next Tuesday. Esposito’s on the island, all right.”
“Someone helped him. Someone who was in the shadows.” A supernatural could bring a human into the hazy gray twilight world as long as they maintained contact. Together, they could’ve left the ferry unseen.
Cain nodded, unsmiling. “Exactly.”
“Brien knows?”
“Yeah. He wants us both to come to his apartment ASAP.”
I lifted a brow. “Not the war room?”
“No. He’d prefer to keep this quiet for now.”
I drained the shot glass in one gulp and put it on the bar. “Because of me.” Because it was my goddamn father.
Cain lifted a shoulder, let it drop.
I shoved my feet into a pair of shoes. “Let’s go, then.”
Following his ascent to primus, Brien had moved into his parents’ old apartment after first redoing it in a less ornate style to suit his and Twilight’s taste. The living room was similar to mine, with minimalistic furniture and wide-plank floors, but more colorful, with blue-green walls and large, sensual oil paintings by a reclusive artist.
Brien was on one of the couches, a laptop open on the coffee table in front of him. He closed the lid and indicated the couch across from him. “Have a seat.”
“Thanks.” I sat down, hands on my knees. Cain chose to lean against the polished wood bar instead.
Brien opened his arms along the couch back and crossed one leg over the other, his ankle on his thigh in a deceptively relaxed pose. He had to be concerned; we all knew Esposito was a loose cannon.
“You hear anything else?” he asked Cain.
“No. Bastard’s gone underground. If I didn’t have the PI’s report, we wouldn’t even have known he’s on the island.”
