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“Fair enough. If anyone has favors owed them, call them the fuck in, now.”
My phone buzzes. I yank it out quickly, expecting it to be Elsa. My brow furrows when I see the name on the screen.
Oren Frey: Cillian’s “detective”.
I move to the corner of the room and answer it.
“I just heard what happened, Hades. And I’m very sorry.”
Oren and I have only spoken once before, a few weeks ago. I’d almost forgotten I’d called him and asked him to do what I did. Now, amidst the chaos of all this, it seems so fucking petty and stupid.
“Thank you,” I growl. “Now maybe isn’t the best time—”
“Unfortunately,” he growls. “It might be alltoogood a time.”
My eyes darken. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about what, or should I say who, you asked me to look into.”
Elsa.
I asked him to look into Elsa, and I’ve spent the last three weeks regretting it every time she’s smiled at me or kissed me.
“Oren, thisreallyisn’t the best—”
“I’m not some yellow pages private detective, Hades. Nor am I unaware of the intricate politics involved with people like yourself and families such as your own when I do work for them. I’m fully versed in the dynamics of your family, and Cillian’s, as well as of those who you both might call enemies. Which is why I struggled with even calling you right now.”
My pulse quickens, a whining sound ringing in my ears.
“What did you find.”
He exhales slowly. “Her background is clean. Mom died when she was eighteen and her sister was seven. They were pretty poor, but she worked two jobs—interning at a law firm, running coffees, making copies, that sort of thing, and also running the back office for a local grocery store. She managed to get herself into no less than Cambridge, where she was top of her class, all while playing mother to her little sister, Nora.”
I already know all of this. It still makes me grin with foolish pride, even if the world is burning around me. But I’m not sure where he’s going with any of this, or how it’s remotely relevant to any of what’s going on.
“Oren—”
“The reason I’m calling rightnow, and the reason I truly wrestled with this, Hades,” he growls, “isn’t because of how smart she is, or how driven, or the blood and sweat it took for her to get to where she and her sister are right now. I’m calling you because of who her father is.”
The ringing sound in my ears grows louder. My pulse thuds harder.
“And he is?”
Oren is silent.
“Oren—”
“Stavrin.”
The floor drops away.
“Leo Stavrin. I’d tell you who he is, but I know you already know. And given this evening’s events, that’s why I wasn’t so sure about calling.”
“Thank you.”
“Look, Hades—”
“That’s all I need,” I say in a voice that sounds like the edge of a knife. “Thank you, Oren.”
