LUCAS: 21

I WATCHED JASPER through the one-way glass. He lay on a king-size bed, eyes glued to a handheld video game. MTV flashed on the plasma screen affixed to the wall. A take-out pizza box rested by his elbow.

This was how the Cortez Cabal treated the man who’d killed two of its top executives and attempted to kill its CEO. This was how my father treated the man who’d murdered two of his sons and plotted to kill the rest of his family.

I knew the room was actually a jail cell. A life sentence with no chance of parole, kept alive only because he could prove useful. But it wasn’t enough. For his crimes, and for the threat he posed, I wanted him dead.

My father had decreed mercy. I’d argued for capital punishment. Did I ever think I’d see that day?

I had weighed the factors and decided Jasper Haig should not be allowed to live. How often had my father made that very decision and I’d condemned him for it?

Only twenty-four hours ago, I hadn’t hesitated to condemn another criminal. When my father had suggested sending a convicted murderer to meet Hope in Paige’s place, I’d agreed, knowing I was sending that woman to an almost certain death.

I’d weighed the factors, analyzed the risks and made my decision. Whatever I felt about the outcome, I still believed we’d made the right choice.

“Sir?”

Griffin gestured toward the door, impatient for me to get this meeting over with so he could return to my father’s side. I lifted a finger and checked my cell phone. Three text and two voice messages. None of them from Paige.

She was back at the hotel, working. Work she could have done from any office in the building. But since yesterday—since I’d agreed with my father’s plan—there’d been a distance between us that I knew I wasn’t imagining.

I’d text messaged her an hour ago, asking her to join me for lunch. No answer yet.

I closed the phone and motioned for the guard to open Jasper’s cell.

Jasper sat up, legs swinging over the bedside. Two guards darted past me, flanking him and motioning for him to stay seated. As he settled back onto the bed, one fingered his gun, the other readied his powers.

Jasper’s lips curved, amused by the thought that he presented such a threat. If he wanted to strike at me, he’d hardly do it in front of three Cabal guards. Jasper was a plotter, not a fighter.

Even as he reclined against the pillows, smirking, I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, assessing me, then shifting to the guards, judging which he could best impersonate.

I made a mental note to speak to my father about that, and ensure all guards assigned to Jasper were as far from his physical type as possible. That would slow him down, but it wouldn’t stop him. My father had bought his docility by promising a necromantic visit with his brother’s ghost, but the respite would be only temporary. It had taken Jasper years to plan his attack on the Cabal. He would be in no rush to escape from the consequences. But we could never forget he was planning that escape.

I stepped forward. “You wished to speak to me?”

“I asked for your dad, but you’ll do just fine.” He scanned me, measuring, assessing, noting my expressions, my idiosyncrasies.

“How’s Paige?” he asked after a moment.

I tensed, but he only sat there, expectant, as if simply making friendly conversation, not reminding me that he’d tried to kill my wife.

“That was a clever trick,” he said. “The glamour spell. Really clever.”

Again, no mockery in his voice. Nothing but genuine admiration, as if complimenting a fellow chess player who’d made a brilliant move. That’s all this was to Jasper. A game. And I was only a competitor. Or a pawn.

“You wished to speak to me?” I repeated.

“Hope,” he said. “I want to see her before she goes.”

“She left this morning.”

“Did she say anything? Leave me a message?”

“No.”

Dismay flickered, but he bounced back with a smile. “She’s still mad. That’s okay. She’ll come around.

She just needs time. When she does want to talk to me, you’ll let me know, right?”

“I’m sure you’ll be informed.”

“Thanks. I’d appreciate that.”

As he grinned, I almost expected him to pass me a tip, as if I were a concierge at his new five-star hotel.

“Is that everything?” I said.

“Yep. Thanks.”

I started to turn away.

“Oh, sorry,” he said. “One last thing.”

I slowly turned back.

“About the werewolf. Karl, is it?”

I said nothing.

“Could you pass along a message?” A slow smile. “Tell him I’m thinking of him.”

I WAS WALKING from the cell when Carlos strode past the hall door. I resisted the urge to step aside before he saw me.

“There you are,” he said, shoes squeaking as he wheeled. “You’re a hard man to find these days. I’d almost think you were avoiding me.”

“Hello, Carlos.”

“We missed you at the funeral today. Mom was hoping you’d show. She really wants to talk to you.”

“I’m sure she does,” I murmured.

Carlos laughed. “You know my mother. She takes a big interest in your health.”

“If you’ll excuse me…”

“Not yet.” He stepped into my path. “Someone else has been avoiding me. Dad stood beside Mom and me during the service then he took off. That was the only time I’ve seen him since he accused me of murdering my brothers and tried to kill me. Think maybe he’s feeling bad about that?”

“It was a very difficult situation and—”

“Stuff it, Lucas. Rumor has it he wants to buy me out. Have you heard that?”

“No,” I lied. “Where did you—?”

“I have my sources. They tell me he’s been asking about my debt and my expenses, trying to figure out how much it would take to make me walk away. So how about I help him out with that? I’ll name my price. You give him the message.”

“If you wish.”

“Oh, I do.” He stepped nose-to-nose with me. “Tell our father he doesn’t have enough to buy me off. By Cabal law, I am entitled to a seat on the board and stock shares, and my birthright is not for sale. I’m not going anywhere, baby bro. Maybe you don’t think I pose much of a threat. With Hector and William around, I knew I didn’t stand a chance of sliding into the big seat. But now…” He eased back, teeth bared in a grin. “Now everything’s changed.”