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“twenty-five girls were abducted from Tenebrae. One of them was Tristan’s sister, Luna. We know Lorenzo Maroni and Gabriel Vitalio gave the kids to the Syndicate, but we don’t know where she was sent. That’s who we’re looking for.”
He saw Alpha’s eyes go to Tristan, softening slightly. “That’s hard. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but there is a high chance she’s not alive. A lot of kids who go with the Syndicate don’t survive. You have to be prepared for that possibility.”
Tristan nodded, his jaw tight. “I am. But I want answers.”
“And I want to know which motherfucker found my name and used me,” Alpha stated.
“We have a hacker who can track that,” Dante informed the older man. “In exchange, you give us a lead. Deal?”
Alpha considered him for a long second. “Okay, I’ll see what I can find.”
Dante stood up, taking his card out of his pocket, handing it to the other man, hesitating. “My mother slit her wrists open in the room she used to paint in with our younger brother there. He has Asperger’s and he’s living a great life far away from this world. I had to sacrifice seeing him to protect him and now he doesn’t want to come back. I get that. He’s found a good woman and works as an architect from home, and has told me to keep myself and this world away from his life. We talk on the phone sometimes but we’re acquaintances. In protecting him as a brother, I failed him too. My point is, if you are my brother, I get why you didn’t tell me anything, but going forward, you decide how we operate – as brothers or as acquaintances. The choice is yours.”
With that, Dante gave the bigger man a nod and walked to the stairs, Tristan on his heels.
“Dante?”
He paused and turned to see the man.
“Congratulations on the baby.”
Dante felt his lips curl, and with a nod, he descended, looking at Tristan. “You don’t look surprised.”
Tristan moved easily beside him. “Amara kept touching her stomach last night. I suspected.”
Dante looked at the incredible vista laid at his feet, the realization that it belonged to his brother staggering. “Do you believe his story?”
“Yeah,” Tristan said. “He resembles your father a bit, except that one eye.”
“I’ve never seen anyone with one eye,” Dante commented. “I hope he finds some leads for us. Have Morana look into him and the property deeply.”
Tristan nodded just as his phone rang. Dante saw Morana’s name flashing and knew it was important. Those two liked to text more than talk on the phone, from what he’d observed.
Tristan picked up. “Yes?”
Dante almost felt his eye roll at the way he answered the love of his life. Tristan stiffened, pausing his downward descent, and Dante stopped as well, alert.
“Send me the address. Dante and I will take the jet.”
Dante waited for him to explain as he pocketed his phone. “The airport asshole sent her an address, telling her to get to it within 24 hours, or we’ll miss it.”
Adrenaline flushed into Dante’s system. “Where?”
“70 miles out of Tenebrae,” Tristan answered.
The men exchanged a look and sprinted down the stairs, ready to raise some hell.
Dante called for backup en route to the airport, glad to know Vin had returned and would bring three solid men to the airport at Tenebrae, from where they would all drive to the location. Maneuvering his Range Rover, Tristan at his side, Dante checked his rear-view mirror to see the two black SUVs from the compound tailing him as he drove out of the city limits, following the GPS directions.
“Take the next exit off Portsmouth Avenue,” the robotic feminine voice said, and Dante followed, his shoulders in knots from five hours on the flight. He rotated his shoulders and cracked his neck, the sound loud in the silent vehicle. Stress balled in his gut, and it was from the unknown. Dante didn’t know if they’d be walking into a trap or a genuine lead. Worse, he didn’t know what kind of a lead. It could be anything from an abandoned place to a disastrous house like the last time.
“You ready, buddy?” he asked Tristan in a deliberately light voice, goading him, knowing he was more stressed.
Tristan just gave him a look but stayed silent, his hand holding his gun. Dante’s own was on the dashboard, waiting to be picked up and fired.
“Turn left on Madison Boulevard,” the navigation said, and he turned left onto a dirt road off the main highway. Acres of farmland surrounded the path for a few miles before the woods began. Night fell over the sky, darkening the land enough to make it eerie, a full moon glowing brightly in the midst.
“This feels like a gothic movie,” Dante noted, checking the map on the dashboard GPS.
