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TWENTY-FIVE
Decima
I watchedthe entrance to the school from the driver’s seat of the sedan we’d commandeered for the first stage of our plan, my heart thumping at a brisk rhythm. Garrison had disappeared through the doorway a few minutes ago, wearing business casual clothes, a wig, fake facial hair, and an air of total belonging. If he couldn’t pull off this maneuver, no one could.
If he couldn’t, our plan was finished before it’d even really gotten started.
I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, willing my nerves to stay calm. There was a long road ahead of us after this. I had to stay cool and focused—not buckle under the pressure like we aimed to make the Blood Hunter do.
My latest burner phone rang. I yanked it to my ear. “Hello, this is Carolyn Markle speaking.”
“Oh, hello, Ms. Markle,” the woman on the other end said. “I just wanted to confirm—we have a Mr. Beverly here with a note from you requesting an early pick-up for Brittany?”
“Yes, that’s correct,” I said, keeping my voice as smooth as possible. “She has a doctor’s appointment, and I wasn’t able to get out of work.”
Blaze had hacked into the school network and changed the parental contact number for the girl’s supposed mother so we’d be set if they double-checked. Garrison had gone in with a note Carter had forged for us, imitating the signature on file on a note of business paper that Blaze had created using an exact copy of the logo from the Blood Hunter’s business card.
That was more than I’d imagine the Maliks had access to when they’d kidnapped the first Brittany, but we still hadn’t been sure if that would be enough. The Blood Hunter had almost definitely requested extra caution—but he probably hadn’t considered that we’d find his adoptive daughter at all. And it was the first week of school after summer vacation, with all the chaos that must come with that, so the staff had to be more distracted than usual.
“Good to know. Sorry for bothering you,” the school secretary said, and I sank back in my seat.
Less than a minute later, the school door opened again and Garrison came striding out with a little blonde girl bounding along beside him. She peered up at him, looking a bit puzzled but chattering away all the same. He smiled and nodded as if he found her comments the most fascinating thing he’d ever heard, and she looked like she was eating up the attention. It was kind of sweet, seeing how well he set her at ease.
When this was all over, she’d have a better life. A safer one, not ruled by a controlling, vicious man who’d dragged her into his life as a stand-in for another daughter.
Garrison would have told Brittany that he was a colleague of her father’s and that her father had arranged a little trip for her. I found out the details he was offering about that trip when I stepped out to meet them.
“…and I bet she’ll bake her famous cinnamon snap cookies for you—there’s nothing like them fresh out of the oven.”
The girl let out a little gasp. “Ilovehomemade cookies. Will she let me help? Our cook never likes me in the kitchen.”
“I’m sure she will,” Garrison said, his voice dipping as if he was as affected by that statement as I was. A pang formed around my heart. How much did the Blood Hunter and his staff control his adoptive daughter’s life? How muchwasshe allowed to do?
As I opened the back door for her, Brittany paused and stared up at me. Her eyes narrowed with a wariness that didn’t fit her young age—a sense of caution the Blood Hunter must have drilled into her. “I don’t know you either.” She took a step back, knitting her brow. “I don’t like this. I want to talk to Father.”
My pulse stuttered. We couldn’t give her that. The secretary’s approval of Garrison had been enough to reassure Brittany about him, but seeing another stranger had set off more alarm than we’d anticipated in the girl herself.
With a jolt of inspiration, I grasped the ponytail I’d gathered my hair into and yanked it upward, ducking down and turning so the back of my neck was level with the girl’s line of sight.
“I work with your dad,” I said, motioning to my tattoo with my other hand. Who would have thought that the mark I hated, the ink he’d used to brand me as his, might end up being the key to carrying out our plan for his destruction?
Brittany let out a huff of breath with a little giggle. “Oh. I’m sorry! He just—he didn’t tell me we were doing anything different today, and he always says I should never go anywhere with people I’m not sure he’s approved of. But you’re with him, so it’s okay.”
I turned, giving her a smile I couldn’t stop from being a little sad around the edges. “We are. And you’re going to have a wonderful time with Steffie.”
Brittany climbed into the car with no further hesitation. Garrison checked that she’d buckled her seatbelt and sat in the back with her, encouraging her to tell him about the math test she’d had today. As she started reciting her multiplication tables, I pulled away from the curb.
The first part of my route Blaze had deliberately mapped out so that we’d pass several street cams. We were counting on the Blood Hunter seeing this vehicle—and its license plate, which we’d registered to Damien Malik.
Next I zipped into a shabby residential neighborhood where cams were few and far between. I drove halfway down a back laneway between two rows of houses and parked next to the SUV Steffie had rented under a fake name when she’d arrived in DC this morning.
The Chaos Crew’s housekeeper shot me a warm smile in greeting before fawning over the girl who’d come out to meet her. Garrison made the introductions, and Steffie cooed over Brittany’s outfit before telling her how much fun her father had arranged.
“Why don’t you let me hang on to your school things while you go have a great time?” Garrison said amicably.
The girl handed over the crest-emblazoned jacket she’d been carrying rather than wearing due to the late summer heat and then her backpack. I suppressed a twinge of nervous dread as she and Steffie got into the new car, a sunshade pulled down over the window next to Brittany to hide her from prying eyes and cameras.
We’d picked out a perfect hiding spot far from the city for them to stay busy while we carried out the rest of this mission. And besides, the Blood Hunter would be diverted onto a totally different trail. While I’d been driving over here, Blaze had sent another forged note by courier to the night club we knew the Blood Hunter owned, the place where I’d first truly met him. This note Carter had written in our father’s handwriting, full of taunts and malicious glee, with details and phrasing only someone in the family would know.
