Page 29 of Mayhem

I looked at him. “She told you?”

“No. She made sure I heard about it.”

That sounded more accurate. Camille had never needed to deliver a message directly when there were ten people around her willing to carry it instead. I leaned farther back in the chair. “Desmond?”

“Obviously.” Hunter pushed the invitation card toward the edge of the desk with one finger. “He’s manufacturing a reunion.”

I picked up the card and glanced over the seating notes Hunter had written across the bottom. Desmond Hansen. Camille Voss. Hunter Hansen. Enough family names around them to make the point impossible to miss. “He’s not being subtle.”

“He doesn’t think he needs to be.”

“Camille won’t complain.”

“No.” Hunter’s voice stayed even, but I knew the difference between calm and contained irritation. “She’ll make it easier for him.”

Camille had been circling Hunter for months with just enough family pressure behind her that nobody could call it entirely personal. Desmond liked the match because the Voss name was useful, Camille liked it because she wanted Hunter, and Hunter disliked both facts enough that every attempt to put them together became more unpleasant than the last.

I set the invitation back down. “You could skip it.”

Hunter gave me a look.

“I know.”

Skipping would only hand Desmond the room. Hunter would rather walk into something arranged against him than give somebody else control of what happened there. I understood that much without needing him to say it.

Hunter picked up the invitation again and read the seating line one more time. “He moved her beside me.”

“Then he wants people talking before dinner even starts.”

“He wants people assuming something has already been decided.”

I watched him turn the card over between his fingers. “What are you going to do?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

That answer lasted less than a second before footsteps sounded outside the office, followed by voices in the library beyond the door. One of them was familiar enough that I looked over before Hunter did.

Malakai.

I heard him laugh at something low and close, then the handle turned.

Hunter’s expression hardened before the door even opened.

Malakai came through first, one hand still on the handle while Echo stepped in behind him. I knew what had happened before either of them said a word.

Malakai’s shirt was untucked on one side, his hair looked like somebody had gotten a fist into it, and there was a fresh mark high along his shoulder where the collar had shifted. Echo looked only marginally more put together. Her clothes were straight enough, but her hair wasn’t, and there was a flush still high across her cheeks that had nothing to do with walking quickly across campus. She took in the office in one sweep, first Hunter behind the desk, then me, then the distance to the door she’d just come through. Malakai shut it behind her and stayed close enough that his arm brushed hers.

I looked at the mark on Malakai again. It was too deep and too fresh to misunderstand. “You tasted the goods?”

Malakai’s grin was immediate.

I leaned forward enough to get a better look at the scratches disappearing beneath his collar. “Jesus. She got you good.”

“She’s fun to play with.” Malakai sounded entirely too pleased with himself, and the way he looked at Echo made it obvious he’d already decided one encounter was nowhere near enough.

Echo folded her arms and looked between us. “Do you always discuss people like they aren’t standing right there?”

I met her eyes for the first time. Up close, she was smaller than the impression she gave from across a room. That impression didn’t diminish much. There was too much contained in the way she watched us. She wasn’t intimidated by Hunter’s office or by the fact that the door was closed behind her. If anything, she looked irritated at being delayed.