TWENTY-ONE - Thorn
TWENTY-ONE
Thorn
Tension rides me hard as I type rapidly, watching code crawl across my screen. Justice and Kaz also work in silence, both wearing earphones. Not me. I'll never be caught unaware.
Except when it comes to Alana speaking several languages.
Honey drifts across my tongue. I hate that I can't see her. Oh, I have ten men on her reporting her every movement, and each one of them will take a bullet for her if necessary. But I can't see her myself.
It's just after supper, and she's having dinner with family members at the Ballroom on Sixth, an expensive restaurant with a high-end bar. So far, I don't have a line on Cal Sokolov, but my sources are good. If he ends up anywhere near her, I'll know about it.
For now, I lower my head and craft a tunnel through code, hunting the source of the virus that's slowly killing me. Closing my eyes, I type faster than I can think, allowing instinct to take over.
Tunneling through the internet with the powerful alexandrite crystals is like mining for gold. Or rather, garnets.
The challenge heightens my awareness. I catch a wisp of a trail, and I'm off and running.
Around me, the servers hum at a frequency I feel to my bones. It's mine.
My phone buzzes and I pause, pulling up Alana's social media account.
She's in the bar and her eyes are slightly drowsy. Has she been drinking? She leans in, and her emotions waft from the device, lingering over my skin. I don't like that anybody watching can feel the same.
Damn the Aquarius Social emotion-based userface.
I lift my chin and stare, letting honey take over my senses.
"So, thanks for hanging in there with me and for all the love." She hiccups and holds up a martini glass containing blue liquid. "I'm with my cousins tonight, having a drink and celebrating my freedom." Her smile is all siren and smart-ass. "So, you all know Thorn, and let me tell you, the stories about him are true. The man can seriously kiss." She leans in, letting her emotions coat the world. "And yes, we kissed. I mean, wouldn't you kiss the guy who saved you from raining bullets?" She winks. "Give me more love, and I'll be back later tonight with more deets. You're gonna want to hear this." The screen explodes with pressed stars.
I'm going to fucking beat her ass, and this time, she's going to remember the lesson. Apparently I went too easy on her before. The one saving grace, and I mean the only one, is that she didn't reveal her location to millions of strangers.
Returning to my program, I pound the keys until the M slides out of sight. Doesn't matter. I know all the keys by heart.
Kaz stops typing and tugs his phone off the counter to answer. "What?"
He's more likable every day.
Then he turns to me just as Justice removes his EarPods. "Sylveria Rendale is here to see you."
My fingers stop mid-stroke.
Kaz places the phone near his keyboard. "She could be guessing you're here."
Somehow, I doubt Lady Rendale would waste her time or an ounce of effort if she didn't know my exact location. "Both of you, find out who she's speaking with in my organization and cut the traitor's throat."
A vein pulses visibly in Justice's temple. "Kaz, double-check all surrounding cameras for a hack and the satellite for any signals we don't own. Then we'll go through phones and devices." He stands. "I take it you want to meet with her?"
"Yes." I stand and stride toward the elevator to palm the control so it opens. "I can handle it. You work with Kaz."
Justice steps inside with me. "If you're meeting with the enemy, I'm at your two o'clock." This whole new determination to outwardly be brothers as well as inwardly is becoming irritating, especially since he's putting himself in the crosshairs. I don't like it.
The door rolls shut and the craft climbs out of the earth and ascends high into the sky. My ears pop. Then I unwrap a mint from my pocket and shove it in my mouth, chewing quickly until my taste buds go dead. The doors roll open, and we stride into the waiting area of the top floor with its calm and peaceful peach-colored furniture.
Of course, garnets are hardwired into every wall and used as decorations.
Silveria Rendale has three men with her—all on the ground bleeding out.
I glance at my men, who are currently holding new weapons. "You were foolish to come into my building armed." I speak to her but make sure her men are well aware I'm weighing whether or not to kill them, if they aren't already choking on their own blood. I'm fairly certain the guy by the potted plant is in his last convulsions.
She straightens to her full height of about six feet, dressed in a silver-colored suit with tight skirt and bright red four-inch heels that match her silky blouse. Her hair is a thick dark brown and her eyes a deadly blue. Her aristocratic features are set in bored lines. She meets my stare directly. "Please. If I wanted to shoot you, I wouldn't have advertised the weapons." Her chin lowers. "We need to talk."
I gesture her ahead of me toward the door beyond where my receptionist would be if these were business hours.
She pushes open the door and sweeps inside as if she owns the place.
I follow her down the long hallway and beyond the many closed doors, noting several of my people still hard at work. Finally, we reach the corner office at the end and she walks inside, looking around. "I take it this is you?"
It is the biggest office and in the corner, so I just nod. "Please have a seat." I can't remember who decorated my office. A wide onyx desk that matches the one at home takes up most of the room by the window with a leather chair behind it. The credenzas and a small sitting area are all done up in light brown leather. Garnets and obsidian stones embellish the knickknacks in the place. "Can I get you a drink?" I offer politely.
"Yes. Scotch," she says.
I walk to the bar on the far wall and pour her a scotch neat that I deliver before pouring myself one. I look at Justice and he shakes his head, leaning against the doorjamb. I walk around to sit at my desk. "Mrs. Rendale, next time, make an appointment."
She takes a sip of the twenty-year-old double barrel. "Why would I do that?"
"I don't know. Manners?"
She smiles. "We don't have time to waste with manners, Thorn."
"What can I help you with?" The idea that Alana has been out of my reach for nearly eight hours is about to make me come undone, but I force a smile.
Rendale looks me over, every bit the stately owner of TimeGem Moments. The platform is in second place of the four families and definitely on my heels. In contrast to my neural link platform, TimeGem uses advanced temporal technology to record, save, and replay memories in real time. Their time-capsule posts and multimedia collections are impressive, and their user interactions complex.
"I thought we might consider a merger," she says smoothly, the twenty-karat diamond pendant hanging between her breasts scattering light in every direction.
Whereas my servers run on garnets, hers mainly use diamonds. One would think since it's the strongest stone that her servers are the fastest. They're not. I wonder if it's because she married into the family, and the family's true stone used to be citrine. Do any of her deceased husband's relatives have a stronger affinity with either citrines or diamonds? Perhaps little Ella has a gift. I know Mrs. Rendale has talent with diamonds, which is why Brooks had married her. These things are rarely kept secret.
"I am not interested in a merger. My business is fine," I say, swirling the liquid in my glass.
She smiles. "Come now. I know all about the plans to merge Aquarius and Hologrid. We should do the same. I have two daughters. Choose one."
My interest is piqued. "You don't know anything about me."
"I know plenty about you."
The woman has no clue. "Most people think I'm a real bastard."
"As do I," she says. "You know all about my daughters, I'm sure. You know what they look like. Blonde or brunette, Thorn?"
I study her, anger heating my throat. "What about the third option?"
She lifts her graceful neck. "I only have two daughters."
I incline my head. "There's really only one true Rendale woman. Ella. Brooks's daughter. I find it interesting your daughters changed their name to Rendale after Brooks passed on. What was their former surname?" Of course, I know their surname had been Diddle. I can't blame them for changing it.
She rolls her eyes. "Ella has been disinherited and never showed an affinity with a crystal, anyway. If you want this merger, forget her."
I already have. "You're not worried about throwing one of your daughters to me?"
She shrugs. "You kidnapped Alana Beaumont for days and apparently she's still intact. So no, I'm not worried. Alana is tripe, to say the very least. No doubt you were more than happy to dump her on her father's doorstep."
The words ring so false, heat flashes through my body. Justice straightens from his post as if catching the tension.
I cock my head. "What's your plan?"
She looks around as if hoping to find state secrets. "Your marriage to one of my daughters. We merge our two families. I am willing to share our interaction algorithms with you, if you do the same with us. In addition, both of my daughters have enormous influencer followings on TimeGem Moments. Whichever one you marry will take that with her to Malice Media."
"And post on both?" I ask, curious.
"Yes, she would post for both—making sure we both stay strong," Sylveria says.
I study her, looking for any hint that she knows Malice Media is in trouble. "I don't need help with Malice Media."
Her eyelids half lower, and her smile is cagey. "Don't you?"
"Spill it, Sylveria." I glance at the only exit in the room.
She swallows. "Just rumors and I can't verify them. Yet."
"What rumors?" Justice asks quietly, effectively blocking any way to freedom.
She purses her lips. The woman is about fifteen years older than I am and has the irritated look most mothers can manage. "The rumor on the street is that you're having server issues. We've been tracking Malice Media in real time and have yet to discern a problem." She places her glass on the nearby table. "However, when you kidnapped Alana Beaumont, I did have to wonder."
"Stop wondering." That was all about Alana, but I'm not telling this woman anything. If she sees Alana as a threat, then my woman is in danger. Considering she's not under my roof or control right now, the least I can do is keep a target off her back. "I need a mate who has an affinity with the garnets, as I do." Throughout the ages, families have sought mates with connections to the crystals, and it's logical I might want the same thing.
Sylveria's chest fills as if she's found an opening. "Both of my girls can charge diamonds. Think about combining them with garnets."
"Don't your servers also run on citrines?" Justice asks quietly. It's true, and we all know it. I need to do a deeper dive on Ella, considering she's Alana's friend. Perhaps she can charge citrines.
"Yes, but the diamonds are what have propelled us to number two. I want to be number one. I'm not going to lie to you." Sylveria's smile shows teeth, hungry ones. "But with Cal Sokolov and Alana marrying within the month, we need to shore up our defenses against a hostile takeover. You are prepared, are you not?"
I smile, and her eyes widen slightly before she covers her reaction. "I'm more than prepared. What do your daughters say about this offer of yours?"
"They're both on board." She lifts one toned shoulder. "They've always been a bit competitive, so whoever loses out will be quite ticked." She hums softly as if considering her next words carefully. "Mathias Beaumont will need a new heir, so I may take my next offer to him."
I grind my back teeth together, grateful the mint is still working. "Mathias is in his late fifties."
"So? My husband was two decades older than me." She stands and, for the first time, true emotion splashes across her face, leaving her perfect skin scarlet from anger. "Stop playing around here. You don't want to turn me down."
"I'll think about it," I say, not meaning a word.
Triumph glitters in her eyes. "How about you come over for dinner tomorrow night and meet the girls in person? You never know when Cupid might strike."
I'd like to get to her servers. She's difficult to read, and I suspect she'd have no problem infecting a server or garnet if she found a way. But I can't tell if she's the one who cursed me, and interrogating a woman holds little appeal.
Not that I wouldn't do it. But right now, kidnapping and torturing the head of TimeGem Moments, even if she's arrogant enough to walk right into my web, would be a mistake I don't have time to handle. My thoughts burn with the woman who's too far away right now. "Sounds lovely." I nod for Justice to escort Sylveria out.
The fire burns too hot inside me, and I'm done being rational. I have to find Alana.