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Phoenix doesn’t reply.
“Gordon Gofannon is the new warden of Seacroft Prison. I expect the professor arranged your abduction to coerce him to send the coordinates of his imprisoned brother.”
Her breath catches, a subtle sound that pierces me like barbed wire.
Odin’s eyes glitter with satisfaction. “So, Miss Gofannon—”
“It’s Stahl.”
“Stahl,” he says, his voice slicing like a razor’s edge. “Walk around your professor and join my nephew in the back of the car.”
“What are you going to do to him?” she asks.
“Since no harm seems to have come to you and Veer, the professor and I will just have a chat. I swear on my honor that as long as you join Veer in the car, you will not come to any harm.”
“Go with him,” I say.
Without another word, Phoenix walks a wide circle around where I stand. I can’t afford to focus on her, but the defeat in her posture tells me that she’s thinking the worst.
As soon as she disappears from behind the van, the mask of neutrality over Odin’s features morphs into one of malice. He remains silent, and it isn’t until a car door opens and closes that he speaks.
“Wait for five minutes after we leave before killing him.”
“Yes, sir,” they chorus.
As two more lackeys drag the people I shot to the back of the van, options flash before my eyes like a shuffle of cards.
I could shoot Odin now and die at the hands of these two men and whoever else is behind the van. I could wait for Odin to leave before killing this pair but spend the rest of my life hunted by the Bestlasson family.
Both options will result in Crius taking his fury out on Mother.
Odin releases his hands from behind his back and turns to leave.
“Wait,” I say.
He raises his brows.
“Everything you said was true,” I lie because telling the truth—that Phoenix was never my target—might get her implicated as an accomplice.
“Go on.”
“Crius has my mother. He asked me to set this up in exchange for her freedom.” This part is the unvarnished truth, but the rest of what I say is a fabrication. “My plan was to intercept the abduction, release the hostages, and force his people to take me to where Crius is hiding.”
“You miscalculated,” Odin says. “Crius would keep away from a hostage to make sure he had an alibi for the days surrounding the abduction.”
Annoyance surges in my gut, but I push down the sensation. Does he really think I don’t know this?
“Your arrival at the university upset my plans, and I miscalculated, thinking Crius would wait until after the concert before attempting to take your nephew.”
A muscle in Odin’s jaw ticks. Based on everything I’ve heard and observed about this man, he places an importance on family.
“If he hadn’t taken my mother, no force in the universe would persuade me to come after the Bestlassons. But I would do anything to protect her.”
“Including killing your father?”
My spine straightens. Odin must be deluded if he thinks I owe Crius an ounce of loyalty or respect. I would spit this in his face, but I don’t want to die with so much left unresolved. Instead, I phrase my intentions in a way that might appease a sanctimonious hypocrite.
“A man who would betray his wife and legitimate children with multiple women is no father,” I say, meaning every word. “If you let me go, I will find Crius Vanir and present you with his head.”
