“Did it occur to you that gathering information about him might put you in danger?” I asked. My tone was as sharp with my father as it had been with Ethan.
“He’s dangerous whether I’m here or not,” my father said, straightening his jacket. “It’s better for me if I’m here, where I can at least keep an eye on him. And, frankly, it’s necessary.”
“Because being on the outs with Adrien Reed could put you in a pinch,” Ethan guessed.
“Financially and otherwise.” My father slipped his hands into his pockets. “Pinch or not, you have to be careful what you do here among these people. They are wealthy, and they are powerful.”
“As he’s threatened Merit in my own home, I believe I’m entitled to a conversation.”
My father’s brows lifted, his gaze shifting to me. “What kind of threat?”
“A note promising victory at any cost,” Ethan said. “I don’t tell you that to alarm you, as Merit is safe in the House, but to make you aware. Reed continues to play a game, and he won’t stop until he believes he’s won. You heard about Caleb Franklin’s death?”
That Ethan had to ask the question said he and my father weren’t working together that closely. That helped, at least a little.
“The shifter who was murdered? The news said it was random violence.”
“It wasn’t,” Ethan said. “We believe it’s related to magical symbols we found near where he was killed. And we have reason to believe Reed is involved.”
“That’s the alchemy?”
Ethan nodded.
“Merit’s grandfather mentioned that.” My father looked out over the water, which rippled with the evening breeze, sending lights shimmering across its surface. “The more I think about Reed, the more I have trouble deciding whether he is guided by narcissism or insanity.”
“The most successful evildoers are usually both,” I said.
Another man rounded the corner, two short glasses in hand. It was my brother, Robert, who shared my mother’s blond hair and pale green eyes. I wasn’t close to my family, and my brother was no exception. I’d always felt like the odd one out, and certainly hadn’t changed when I became a vampire.
Robert handed a glass to my father and took a sip of his own, which gave him a moment to look us over, pick his first volley.
When he lowered his drink again, he settled on “What are you doing here?”
“Good to see you, too, Robert.” I kept my expression bland. “We were invited, just like everyone else. You remember Ethan?” I gestured between them.
Ethan offered a hand, and Robert shook it, but the act seemed distasteful. I was half surprised he didn’t wipe off his palm.
Ethan looked nonplussed. But then again, Robert wasn’t the target of his ire.
“This is an important night for Merit Properties, and an important event,” Robert said primly. He was being groomed to take over the family business. And while my father had undoubtedly helped us during our last go-round with Reed, it didn’t look as though his good faith would extend to Robert.
“And our being here risks that how?” Ethan asked, giving Robert a cool stare that would have iced over another man. But Robert was a Merit; the stubbornness was genetic.
“You tell me. Trouble seems to follow you everywhere you go.”
“Ah, but we aren’t the trouble. Through hatred and fear, it finds us.” Ethan let his gaze slip away to the other faces around us.
“Look,” Robert said. “Adrien Reed will be here, and I’ve been promised fifteen minutes to talk to him. He’s an integral part of our development plan in this fiscal year and next.”
I glanced at my father, saw his expression tighten. And I’d bet good money he hadn’t told Robert the truth about Towerline, why he’d lost it to Reed.
“Your business concerns are not mine,” Ethan said. “Your sister’s concerns are.”
Robert looked at me. “What concerns?”
“Reed isn’t a fan of ours. He’s decided we’re his enemies, and he’s taken a particular interest in Merit.”
Ethan was being circumspect—a wise course, given Robert’s apparent allegiances. Merit Properties was his lifeblood, his inheritance. I was the weird sister he suspected of inciting trouble and being overly dramatic.
“Then maybe spend a little less time trying to get news coverage,” Robert muttered into his drink.
“Would you like to say that again, and aloud?” Ethan’s eyes glittered. “Your convictions are wrong, but then I could at least say you had courage in them.”
Robert rolled his eyes, but before he could open his mouth to spew more invective—or say something Ethan would definitely make him regret—my father put a hand on his elbow.
“Why don’t we take a walk,” my father suggested, “before we all say something we might regret?”
“Too late,” Ethan said, watching them walk away. “It appears your father may no longer be a complete asshole, but your brother’s keen on taking his place.”
“High praise indeed.”
“For a man who tried to sell his daughter to vampires, yes.”