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Medlake Lodge — a play on the Medlock name — dominated over the lush landscape of wilderness deep in the heart of the Canadian Rockies, a fortress of bullet proof glass and wood anchored alongside a flowing lake cutting far into the forest. It crouched hidden far from any main roads, nestled in the only clearing for miles and encompassed by a rolling dome of endless blue. It was one of my favorite properties the Medlock family owned, and it had almost nothing to do with the magnificent reading nook they’d built inside just for me.
Tangled ropes of roots and dirt evened out to smooth asphalt. Bowed branches swayed overhead, a welcoming canopy before parting to a circular driveway orbiting a stone fountain. The marble bowl sat dry and littered with twigs and branches. In all the years we’d visited, I could only remember it ever being turned on once. Marcella had forbidden it. She didn’t see the point of wasting water and I agreed. The building was empty for most of the year. Occasionally, a friend or family would use the place, or we would during the summer, but no one was ever there long enough to properly enjoy the flow of splashing water.
Lavena’s Merecedes Benz rolled up the property driveway, the tires gliding smoothly across the pavement. Tangled branches swayed and dipped overhead, waving us across the looping path to the wide set doors.
“We’re here!” Lavena sang, putting us into park and cutting the engine.
She didn’t even wait for the rest of us before kicking open her door and sliding out into the balmy afternoon. The fading streaks of sunlight glinted off the stubbornly polished windows and shimmered across the marble stairs as we followed suit. The world around us had fallen into that serene hush right before dusk. It whispered through the trees as the rest of us followed the enthusiastic blonde with equal measures of relief and exhaustion.
Loose bits of rock and twigs crunched beneath our heels as we made quick work grabbing our things. Needle sharp prickles spiked up my thighs and gathered around my stiff knees with every step I took. The pressure of being cramped in a vehicle for nine hours tightened the muscles of my back and twisted a knot in the spot between my neck and shoulders. I tried rolling both, working out kinks and fighting back whimpers.
The only one floating effortlessly around the hood of the car and making her way to the front doors was Lavena. The crazy woman with her seven-inch ankle boots pulled over tight, pale jeans flounced straight up the marble steps, one hand buried in the mouth of herGuccibag. The violent crack of her heels immortalized her ascension, sending shockwaves through the silence. The jingle of her keys replaced her strides. Metal teeth snaked in place in the lock. The knob was twisted, and the door was shoved open.
“I’m taking a hot bath,” Sasha grumbled, staggering her way forward, bags bumping against her hips.
“Nap,” Kas muttered, yawning to emphasize. “I need a nap and food, and a toilet.”
I tried to think of what I wanted once we were inside, but all I could conclude was just getting inside. I wanted to kick off my sneakers and that was where my fantasies ended. I probablywouldn’t have said no to a bag of chips if one was presented, but I didn’t feel the need for it. So, I said nothing as I followed my friends up the stairs and into the lit foyer.
“Why are the lights on?” Lavena mumbled, low enough to insinuate she was speaking to herself, but loud enough that it caused the rest of us to stop just over the threshold.
“Maybe it was left on by accident,” I supplied, eyeing the dripping chandelier guarding the entrance.
“That is unlikely,” she muttered, blue eyes rolling down and across the vast space. I barely noticed her reaching into the bag looped over her elbow until the sleek, gray Glock rested in her palm. “You guys stay here.”
“Lavena,” I protested, stepping forward. “I’m sure—”
Sasha held up a hand to silence me. Her eyes were narrowed in the direction of the grand staircase winding up to the second floor. “There’s someone here.”
The bag that cost more than my entire wardrobe was set gingerly down, careful to make the least amount of noise as the owner pulled a slender handgun from inside. She motioned for me and Kas to move back towards the front door.
Kas took my arm when I didn’t follow directions and tugged me back.
“We can’t let them go alone,” I murmured, knowing we were as useful as a bag of bricks, but not wanting to leave our friends to face whatever it was alone.
“Let them handle it,” Kas whispered.
Bythem, she meant Sasha and Lavena, and I knew she was right; they were the most qualified to deal with such a situation. I knew I trusted them with my life without question, but I still watched them step deeper into the lodge with my heart in my throat. A weird fuzz had settled across my brain, muffling everything, except how hard I was breathing.
“I know you’re in here!” Lavena yelled into the abyss, the unexpected cry nearly unlatching my bladder; I jumped, but Lavena wasn’t finished. “Get the fuck out into the open before I start spraying the fucking place with bullets.”
There was a heartbeat of silence that seemed to stretch on forever. It echoed through the halls and rooms, a promise that left no capacity for doubt. I was just beginning to think they’d been wrong when a figure emerged from the corridor ahead, unfolding from the shadows like an ominous omen and moving forward. Lavena and Sasha had their guns up and aimed, neither one was bound to miss at that range.
“Hands up, asshole!” Lavena commanded. “Don’t make me paint the walls with your brain.”
A soft, gruff sound rose from the moving figure, a broad silhouette with wide shoulders and long, toned legs. The noise, I realized was laughter, a low, throaty chuckle that sent a familiar prickle all the way down my spine. Then the figure spoke, and the world cracked beneath my feet.
“Are you really going to shoot your own brother, snotface?”
CHAPTER 2
Darius
Time was such an odd concept.
It flowed so differently on the outside. There never seemed to be enough of it. Hours bled into each other with a reckless abandon that made it impossible to keep track while in captivity, behind the walls of concrete and steel, every second yawned into eternity. Months were decades. Years … years were eons.
Centuries.
