I didn’t reply. I couldn’t reply. He continued speaking, but his words were drowned out in a high-pitched buzzing in my ears. All I could focus on was what he’d just said. They’d found a body. Not a victim or a survivor. A body.
I’d faced a lot of shit in my life. Gray never broke me. Jonathon’s betrayal hadn’t. My bitch of a mother—just another day in my life. But Wesley?
No.
I wouldn’t accept it.
Body.
Another body was found in the wreckage.
Wesley... was dead.
I broke.
10
VALI
Austin had given us the go-ahead to track that bitch Peyton down and see what involvement she’d had in Gray’s abduction and torture of Kit in Toronto. He’d said it was something he was meaning to do, but Mage business had to come first—which he was absolutely right about. I sure as shit didn’t envy the responsibility that had been dumped on the twins’ shoulders.
“There she is,” my brother muttered, nodding through the windshield of our car to the petite, redheaded woman leaving the house we’d been watching. “Alone, too.”
“Good,” I murmured. “Let’s tail her until we get to a quieter area.”
“On it,” Cole agreed, smoothly pulling out into traffic and tailing Peyton’s car with the professionalism of a trained espionage agent. Sometimes I envied him that he’d gotten out from our father’s toxic presence and made the best use of his killer side.
He’d made a good life for himself with Omega and then with Kit and the other guys. Every damn day I was thankful that some incredible twist of fate, a bullet to the back, had tied my fortunes to theirs.
“You’re pretty good at this shit,” I commented as he kept a safe, three-car distance between us and Peyton’s Volvo but never lost sight of her.
“No shit,” he snorted, giving me a glance out of the corner of his eye. “Hey, I was thinking...”
“Uh-oh,” I joked, and he whacked me on the arm. Like we were kids. That small moment made my gut clench and my mouth tighten. It was just another reminder of everything we’d lost out on because of that psychopath that sired us both.
“I was thinking,” Cole repeated with a growl, “that there might be other dragons still in Romania.”
This wasn’t what I’d expected him to say, and I was momentarily stunned. I mean, sure, I’d wondered the same thing... but never really thought about it past that.
“Maybe,” I offered. “Would you want to find them?”
Cole shrugged. “Wouldn’t you?”
I pondered on whether I would. As much as I had considered the idea that there may be more dragons, I sort of liked the idea that it was just us. Was that a bit fucked up of me? That I liked being the only other one who understood what my brother was going through? That understood him?
“I guess,” I murmured because what the fuck else was I meant to say?
Cole gave me a small, half smile. “I wouldn’t have a clue where to start looking though, and I’m sure as shit not asking the old man.”
I coughed a laugh. “Ah, yeah. No. Maybe when all this shit is over we could take a trip to the home country. Show Kit where our family comes from.”
Cole gave me another glance, this time looking surprised. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I’d like that. It’s a fuckload better plan than going through the old fucker anyway.”
I snickered with him, but it reminded me that I had yet to tell him what I’d been up to on my many disappearances from the group lately. Yes, I’d spent a lot of that time getting Lucy and Elena set up legally as the owners of my corporation. But I’d also worked on a little personal project. As of last week, dear old Dad had been committed to a maximum security psychological hospital. For life. I’d given myself and Cole power of attorney to discharge, but I didn’t see that happening any time soon.
It sounded vindictive, but it was just practical. He was still a fucking dangerous man, and I straight up couldn’t risk him ever harming Kit. Because he would.
If he ever found out both Cole and I were involved with the same girl, our father would have her murdered—or worse—just to punish us. Because he was fucked up like that.
No, he was much better off under lock and key. I could have just killed him, like I had so many of his loyal men, so really I was becoming a nicer person for having met Kit.
“Perfect,” Cole commented, his gaze locked on Peyton’s car. She’d turned off the main street and was heading toward an industrial area with considerably fewer bystanders to freak out and think we were assaulting some innocent woman.
I mean, we would be assaulting her. But she was no innocent woman, that much we’d already ascertained.
We waited until we were the only two cars around, then I hit the button on my little remote to blow out her tires thanks to the little explosive devices we had already planted. The two back ones exploded with a bang, sending her skidding to a halt halfway up the sidewalk while Cole and I cruised casually to a stop behind her.
It was dark, which worked to our advantage. Fewer people out and likely to see us, and more for Peyton to fear.
“Let’s do it,” Cole muttered, unbuckling his seat belt and pushing his door open. I followed him out of our car and approached Peyton’s disabled Volvo.
I strode to her driver’s side, and my brother stood behind me, both watching my back and looking intimidating as fuck. Using my gloved knuckles, I rapped on her window and suppressed a smile when she jumped and screamed. She looked up at me with panic in her eyes, so I smiled as friendly as I could manage and indicated for her to roll down her window.
She hesitated a moment, then wound the window down about an inch or two. Maybe she wasn’t as stupid as she looked.
“Looks like you’re having some car trouble there, miss,” I commented and heard Cole scoff quietly behind me. “Perhaps my brother and I can offer you a lift home?”
The pretty redhead glanced nervously at Cole, then gave me a tight, polite smile. “No, thank you. I’ll just call a tow.” She held up her phone, and I raised my brows at it. Of course, I knew full well that she wouldn’t have any signal thanks to the cell jammer on the dash of our car.
“All right,” I replied, smiling. “Well, we might just wait until they arrive. It’s a dangerous area for a woman to find herself stranded, you know?”
She gave me another tight nod and tapped at her phone to look up a tow truck contact number. Through the window I saw the recognizable “error” page showing her the lack of signal, and I bit my lip to stop the laugh threatening. This was way too easy; it almost made me miss the badasses of the mob scene.
“Problem?” I inquired, and she held up her phone with a grimace.
“No signal,” she admitted.
“Yikes.” I pretended to sympathize, then pulled out my own phone. “Yeah, me too. Are you sure we can’t give you a ride somewhere? It’s not really a great idea for you to walk at this time of night.”
She hesitated again, but really what other options did she have? Sit in her car all night? We already knew she was running late for an important meeting and would be eager to get there. Eager enough to risk a ride with two strangers? We were playing on the typical horror scenario of every B-grade slasher flick, but that was part of the point here. To scare the bitch.
“I’m not a murderer or anything, I promise,” I assured her, lying through my teeth.
That seemed to convince her, though, as she laughed nervously and grabbed her bag from the passenger seat, clicking open her door and stepping out from the protection of her vehicle.
The second she was out, I let my friendly mask fall and pushed her car door shut behind her. I saw the moment she regretted her decision, fear flickering across her face as she glanced between Cole and myself nervously.
“Silly girl,” I scolded her, wrapping my gloved hand around her upper arm tight enough to bruise. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to accept lifts from strangers, Peyton?”
She sucked in a sharp breath and tried to jerk out of my grip. “How do you know my name?” she asked in what was really a bit of a cliched line. “What do you want from me?”