twenty-six
Alec hummed to himself as he closed his front door. He tossed his keys onto the coffee table, slipped his knife from his boot, and went through his usual coming-home ritual. Lock on the weapons cabinet: check. Under the sofa: check. Bathroom: check. Kitchen: check. Area secured.
He was still humming as he set his knife down on the kitchen counter and pulled a root beer out of the fridge. Popping the top off with his fingers, he started whistling.
He’d never been allowed to love before, but he knew that was what he was feeling now—what he had been feeling for weeks, ever since he and Claire first met. When they were apart, he thought of her practically every minute. When they were together, he never wanted to be anywhere else. And he knew that her happiness and safety were more important to him than his own. It was an exuberant feeling, love. He finally understood why people couldn’t stop talking, writing, and singing about the emotion. He truly felt as if he was glowing.
Alec couldn’t wait to see Claire again, to speak with her. Would it be too soon to call her right now, considering that they’d spent so much of the day and evening together? She’d said she was going shopping with her mother tomorrow to buy a Homecoming dress. But what about after that? They could make plans for Saturday night.
His musing—and humming—were interrupted by the sound of his front door slamming open, and a familiar voice bellowing, “Will you please cease that infernal racket?”
Alec started in alarm, dropping his root beer bottle to the floor with a crash. Vincent strolled into the apartment and leaned against the kitchen doorway, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. “You’re getting sloppy, Alec. Three locks on your front door, and you didn’t even secure one of them.”
Alec’s face colored. Shite, he thought. He was getting careless. There was no excuse for it, no matter how distracted he’d been lately. Alec heaved a sigh and smiled grimly. “Good thing it was you, then. How was New York?”
Vincent opened the door to the fridge and rooted around inside, finally selecting a ginger ale. “Their new Watcher is tentative and susceptible to emotion—both cardinal sins in my book. One of the largest districts in the nation, and now it’s in shambles. But let’s not waste time talking about that. Shame you don’t have any Crown Royal.” He uncapped the ginger ale bottle and held it aloft. “Cheers!”
Alec grabbed a wad of paper towels and began mopping up the soda and broken glass on the floor, trying to gather his thoughts. He was about to have the most important conversation of his life, and he hardly knew where to begin.
Without offering to help clean up, Vincent strolled into the main living area and draped himself luxuriously on the sofa, feet on the coffee table. “So. Tell me. How did you fare in my absence?”
Alec rinsed his hands off, then dried them on a towel as he emerged from the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, he plunged in. “I’ve found your quarry,” he said, hoping that his smile would appear more calm and confident than he felt.
“Have you?” Vincent sat up slowly, clearly trying to hide his eagerness. “Do tell. Was it the boy?”
“No, it’s a girl … but first, I need to say something.”
“Be my guest.”
“I’ve already assessed and debriefed her. She’s not a risk.”
Vincent chuckled. “Not a risk? Is she a Halfblood?”
“Aye,” Alec admitted reluctantly. “Her family history syncs with the New York runaways. Her father disappeared shortly after she was born. And her aura—”
“Is it green?”
Alec nodded. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“Fabulous.” Vincent looked excited. “Talents?”
“Mental. Primarily visions of the past, and an occasional hint of the future.”
“Ah.” Vincent nodded. “A psychic. Just as I’d feared, it’s my old case after all.”
“But she poses no threat to anyone.”
“How can you say that? A Halfblood with psychic abilities who can see the future?”
“Hints of the future.”
“Sure, now. But you know as well as I do, there’s no telling what she might be capable of. The Fallen will be all over her in a heartbeat. They’ll do anything to recruit her.”
“They already tried—it was Celeste and her cretins. But I was there when they approached her. She’s not the type to give in to the Fallen. I promise you.”
“You promise me?”
“Aye. This one—she’s an honorable person. She’s had a difficult time of it up to now, and I hate to think what her fate might be if the Council gets ahold of her. If you could, just this one time, look the other way…”
Vincent stared up at Alec from his seat on the couch. “Let me get this straight. Even though I’ve been pursuing this case for years, even though our Elders would consider her a threat of the highest level, even though the Fallen sent one of their best recruiters after her—you want me to … what? Walk away, sight unseen, and leave her alone? Report that I found her rather than you and swear there is no reason for concern?”
“Aye.”
Vincent started to respond, then his jaw dropped and his eyes widened as a sudden realization seemed to dawn on him. “You’ve developed feelings for this Nephila, haven’t you?”
Alec cringed inwardly, straining to maintain an unreadable fa?ade.
“What, do you imagine yourself to be in love with her?” Vincent was incredulous. “A sixteen-year-old girl?”
Alec didn’t trust himself to respond.
“I should have seen this coming,” Vincent went on, shaking his head. “The way you were raised—your parents put impossible ideas into your head. When I found you here, I warned you not to do anything foolish. I hoped you’d come to your senses and see this absurd dalliance of yours for what it is: a mistake.”
Alec swallowed hard. The conversation wasn’t going the way he’d planned. He’d hoped to be able to admit the truth, that Vincent would understand, sympathize, and eventually support him. He saw now that he’d been na?ve—so blinded by hope that he’d allowed himself to forget Vincent’s basest instincts. “I swear to you, I’ll watch over her carefully. She won’t be a problem to anyone.”
“Have you told her … everything?”
Alec nodded.
“Well. It seems that you’ve done my job for me.”
“If you would do this for me, I’ll be forever grateful.”
“Are you going to give me her name?”
“If you give me your word that you won’t let them touch her.”
“Alec, you know I will find her on my own in any case. You are simply saving me time.” Vincent’s dark eyes narrowed as he examined Alec. “Oh. Wait. Never mind. I know who it is. It’s that little brunette with the beguiling smile that I’ve seen you with—Brennan, I think her name is.”
Alec flinched internally, furious that Vincent had figured it out before he could secure a promise for Claire’s safety. There was no point in lying about it now that he’d fingered her. “Please,” Alec pressed, struggling to rein in his emotions. “I do love her. She’s… I couldn’t take it if… I don’t want anything to happen to her.”
Vincent frowned. “My dear boy. You know your well-being and happiness is of the utmost importance to me. You’ve always been like a son to me. But this is a great deal to ask.”
“Don’t make me beg,” Alec said quietly.
Vincent clasped his hands together, shaking his head and heaving a sigh. “All right. I’m sure I will come to regret this, but—all right.”
“Give me your word,” Alec insisted.
“I give you my word: I will not let the Elders touch her.”
“Thank you.” Relief engulfed him.
“However.”
Alec’s eyes flew to Vincent’s. His godfather’s warning tone, and the deadly serious look in his eyes, caused fear to stab through Alec like a knife. “However…?”