Sylveria adds her folders, her voice rough, bruising across my kidneys. “I had one of my men put together what we’ve gathered. Between the four of us, we should be able to find this guy and kill him. We do not need more competition.”
I gather my copies of the documents. Between the four of us, we should find this guy soon. “How about a wager?”
“Excellent,” Alexei agrees, taking his stack. “First to find him gets sole social media coverage of the Silicon Shadows and Secrets Ball next year?”
Good bet. That will hurt the other three. “I’m in,” I say.
Mathias hesitates and then straightens his shoulders. “Me, too.”
Sylveria looks at all three of us. “You’re morons, but I’m in. Why not?” She pivots and lowers her chin. “With your recent statement against all of us, I think you hit me harder than the other two, Justice. You attacked my facility.”
“I was making my point about Ella,” I answer, keeping my voice calm. “Stop coming after her.”
Her eyes widen just a fraction.
“What about Ella?” Alexei asks. His voice doesn’t hurt, steady as stone, and I meet his gaze.
“Why? Is your woman worried about her?”
“Yes,” he replies smoothly. “She’s quite concerned.”
A grin tugs at my mouth. I like that he’s honest, and it’s obvious he cares. If I ever decide Ella has to disappear, I know who’ll fight me for her.
“I wouldn’t harm Ella,” Alexei says as if reading my mind.
Ah. So he is in love. Good to know. When the mighty fall, and all of that. My eyes catch the panther tattoo sprawled across his neck, inked in black. The amethyst eyes shimmer as if they’re alive, staring right back at me. It’s good work, sharp and clean. He would’ve needed it in prison—to ground him, to keep him standing when everything else tried to break him.
“I’m not going to hurt her,” I tell Sylveria directly, ignoring her daughters behind her. Corinda and Stacia perch on folding metal chairs hastily set up, nothing like the carved leather ones at the table.
Every one of us has guards scattered through the room. My own stand against the walls, hands near weapons, watching. Their guards mirror them. The air hums with tension, and the faint scrape of a boot against marble sounds like a gun cocking.
Since Sylveria hasn’t answered, I hit the point home. “I meant what I said. Nobody harms Ella.”
Mathias shifts beside me. His silvery-gray hair is thick, his eyes narrowing as they cut between me and Sylveria. His voice grates when he speaks, and pain shoots through my knees like knives digging under the joint. “Why would you care about her stepdaughter?”
“She’s under my protection,” I say, staring him down. I’m fairly certain he knows about the virus since he was present when we cured Thorn, although I doubt he understands it. He won’t ask me about it in mixed company since the others don’t know about it. “Ella’s mine.” It doesn’t hurt to be explicit with these people.
Alexei barks out a laugh. The evenness in his tonekeeps me steady, though his words land sharp. “Are you serious? You’re falling for the little sprite?”
“She’s under my protection. That’s all you need to know.”
He chuckles, the sound colored with his Russian accent. “That’s hilarious. I kidnapped her once. She got loose within hours.”
I nod. “That’s the difference between us. I left her with no electronics.”
He winces. “She’s not going to like that.”
“No kidding,” I mutter dryly. My gaze cuts to Sylveria. “Do we have any questions?”
“Oh no. I quite understand,” Sylveria says. Her rough voice grinds into me, a bruising ache across my kidneys. I hold still. “I would like to meet with my stepdaughter at some point.”
“That’s right. You’re having a server problem, aren’t you?” I lean back, fingers against the table’s carved edge. “I take it you need her.”
The air shifts. She pats her hair into place. “We have business about the trust but can discuss it later.” She smiles at Mathias. “The wedding was lovely, Mathias. Have you heard from Alana and Thorn?”
There had better not be a threat there. “They’ve touched base,” I answer. “They’re on their honeymoon and are not to be disturbed.”
“Agreed,” Mathias says. His gnarly hands shift restlessly on the table. “They deserve a little time off.” He doesn’t say it outright, but it’s there. He wants his daughter far from whatever storm is coming. I can respect that. He clears his throat. The sound rips through my knees. “Sylveria, why do you need your stepdaughter’s help?”
