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“I always knew you were weak,” I called out. “Too weak to stick around and raise your kids. Too weak to stay within the pack and call your brother king. And now you’re too weak to face me.”
“I am not weak,” the speakers crowed. “You’re weak. You hide behind your king, and your men, you hide behind that human man you call a friend. You hide behind poor, helpless old women.”
“…show you helpless…” a voice in the background snarked. The French accent was unmistakable. Grandmere was still alive and well enough to sass talk her captor. Glad to know I got my poorly timed wit from someone in the family.
“Shut up. You’re both going to die here.”
“I know someone is going to die here,” I observed. “But I know you want to kill me face-to-face. So stop hiding and come out. You think you’re a queen? Think you’ve got what it takes to rule a pack and command their respect? We’ve thinned out your herd a little, but if you can kill me, maybe they’ll actually still follow you once this is over.”
Silence.
“Bok-bok-bucawk.” Yup. I made chicken noises at the psychopath holding my grandmere hostage. I clucked at the woman who’d murdered my best friend.
If Desmond had still been standing next to me, this might be one of those times he cautioned me against using humor. Not that his warnings ever worked.
If we got married, he’d probably expect me to start listening to him.
I snorted.
“You’re crazy,” Mercy announced.
“Runs in the family. Speaking of which, Dad sends his love.” This wasn’t altogether false. The few times Sutherland and I had sat together in an attempt at father-daughter bonding, it had become evident he believed Mercy was still the same girl he’d known at seventeen. He often asked about her and spoke fondly of a pretty blue dress she once owned. Though I had no way of knowing for certain, I had a feeling he was referring to the dress she’d worn the day he tried to kill her.
Romantic.
“What do you mean?” Now she wasn’t sounding as sure of herself. All her previous pronouncements had been commanding, or if not that, at least full of hellfire and rage. Now she sounded meek. This was better than expected.
“Dad. Sends. His. Love.”
“You’re talking nonsense. Your father is gone.” Unless she was a fantastic actress, she’d just answered my question about whether or not she’d had something to do with Sutherland’s death warrant. It did nothing to lessen my hateful feelings towards her, but it was one fewer reason I had to want her dead.
“Sutherland? No, he’s not gone. He’s living in a rent-controlled walk-up in Chelsea. Hasn’t aged a day since you met him. You guys would probably still get along great; he’s crazier than you are.” I felt a smidgeon bad for insulting my father behind his back. Ever since he’d come back into my life, things between us had gone as smoothly as they could, given the circumstances.
I couldn’t think of him as my dad, not in the traditional sense. That position belonged to Keaty, for better or for worse. But it was nice to know there was some
one who had played a part in my birth who still liked the idea of seeing me. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, Mercy’s desire to wipe me off the face of the planet had dented my self-esteem somewhat. Maybe that was something I could talk about with my new therapist if I got back to New York.
Killing Mommy Dearest would be a great step towards healing, though.
And I knew what I was saying was working to lure her out.
A brainstorm struck, and I pulled my cell from my pocket. The smartphone’s screen had gotten pretty badly smashed during the fight—or perhaps it had an encounter with a bullet—but when I touched the home button, it lit up. I dialed Sutherland’s apartment number, hit the speakerphone option and cranked up the volume.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Dad.”
“Oh, hello.” There was a long pause. “Secret?”
I wanted to ask if he had a bunch of other illegitimate children running around, but managed to bite my tongue. “Yeah, it’s me. Can you do me a favor?”
“I’m not supposed to leave the apartment.”
“I know, you don’t have to.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Can you say hi to Mom for me?” I certainly hoped this request wasn’t going to screw him up any worse than he already was. He’d experienced a lot, and now I was using him to help me kill the woman he once loved.
