TWENTY-FOUR - Alana

TWENTY-FOUR

Alana

It's after three in the morning, and I sit in my underground safety office, with my friends staring at me, their eyes wide open. I dive back into a gallon of strawberry ice cream. It might be boring but it's my favorite. I wait until my entire story filters through their brains, my head still spinning and my body sore. The books about crystals are near me in my pack, and I'm halfway through a fascinating one on how emeralds and moonstones can be combined to create a love spell.

It's probably bunk, but I might return to reading if my friends stay silent forever.

Rosalie, unsurprisingly, is the first to speak.

"Holy fuck," she says.

"Yep." I lick off my spoon but am careful not to slurp, since mouth sounds bug Rosalie so much. She's explained the condition before, but it didn't make much sense to me. However, I don't want to make her uncomfortable. It's a good thing Merlin decided to take the night off, considering we're discussing wild sex.

Ella shakes her head. "Wait a minute, this is insane. What are we going to do?"

At the moment, I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to do. Even now, his flowers are up in my apartment, making the whole place smell like roses.

"It doesn't make any sense," Rosalie says, frowning.

Wait a second. Is she talking about Thorn declaring I'm the center of his universe? "What do you mean it doesn't make sense?" I'm not quite sure if I should be insulted or not.

"The logic of it, unless"—she casts a worried look at Ella—"he really is insane. I mean, we know he has issues."

I pause in the midst of scooping up another bite because she's absolutely right. If Thorn is so obsessed with me and still wants me in his life, then why did he trade me for a bunch of rocks? I cock my head and look at Ella. "I assume you've been doing a deep dive on the guy."

"Oh yeah." She pushes her glasses back up her nose. "The second you survived your kidnapping and returned home, I sent every search program I've written into every aspect of his life." She dives into her gallon of cookie dough ice cream. "I'm telling you, he has some amazing programmers."

"I think it's him," I say softly. "The man needs to control his entire environment."

"Well, he's beyond good," she says. "It is incredibly difficult to find anything on him other than what Malice Media wants out there."

That just figures. "Did you discover that he has a brother?"

She slaps her hand on her jeans-clad thigh, her mouth turning down. "No. That's not even part of the record."

I smash the heel of my palm into my left eye to try to ward off the headache I feel barreling my way.

Ella claps both hands against her face. "How did you get out of the bar last night?"

I haven't reached that part of the story because I figure they need a moment to digest what happened in the bathroom.

"With my head up high," I say, and then wince. "His jacket covered me, so I walked out, and oh man, I thought Nico was going to lose his mind." They immediately ordered three teams to go after Thorn, but he was gone. I don't want to be impressed by that, but I am. "What could be so valuable about a box of garnets that he would trade me for them?" I hold up a hand. "Assuming that he's telling the truth and he wants some kind of future."

"Do you want a future?" Rosalie asks, her entire face wrinkling with incredulousness.

"No," I say, too quickly. "Believe me, we are not on the same page."

"Yet, you haven't posted about him again," Ella points out.

Yeah, his last threat is ringing in my head. "Mainly because I was busy getting out of a bar, partially dressed, reaching home safely, and then hiding out in my room until three o'clock."

It took every ounce of my considerable charm to talk my cousin into keeping all guards on the exterior of my apartment building. There is no way an ant could get inside this brick structure without being shot, and the last thing I want is a bunch of guards in my hallway, or worse yet, in my home. At least the building is small so our forces can easily cover it.

Ella reaches for her laptop. "I did find a couple of hints that there was a problem with the Beathach family years ago."

"That could be when Justice's mother was killed and the boys were kidnapped," I say. "What did you find?"

She winces. "An obscure reference in a police report. The officer is named Tom Jack, and he's long dead. There's nothing else in any database anywhere, trust me."

"Didn't police officers used to keep their own handwritten notes?" I ask.

"Yeah." Ella flicks her finger across the screen. "This officer didn't have any heirs, but I can keep looking. It's doubtful I'll find anything."

I pause, my spoon in the carton, and wonder if I really want to travel down this path. "Aren't you supposed to know everything you can about your enemies?" I ask.

Rosalie snorts. "Are you sure he's your enemy?"

"He's definitely not my friend." I absently rub the bite mark on the top of my breast. "I'd like to know more about him and why he traded me for those garnets. You have nothing on the stones?"

Ella partially lifts one shoulder. "There are rumblings, some talk on the internet, about Malice being in some sort of trouble, but I can't get anything concrete. I've even been checking our fake TimeGem Moments account."

We've had some fun with that account, posting kitten and puppy pictures as well as fashion advice by using an AI-created profile and picture, and to date we have 50,000 followers.

"There doesn't seem to be anything concrete about Malice's problems, but the rumors start with the Rendale sisters." Ella keys in commands and the monitor on the far wall springs to life. "I can't believe these assholes took my last name. Here is Stacia's latest memory."

Stacia comes into view. She's a pretty woman with short black hair, bright blue eyes, and a rather long nose. TimeGem Moments uses advanced temporal technology to record, save and replay recollections. It's all about time capsules, and so, when they engage, it's already called a memory. Her newest memory comes up as she looks directly at the camera with some sort of tree in the background.

"Hello, friends," she says. "I don't know about you, but I've been hearing these absurd rumors about Thorn Beathach, the owner of Malice Media, kidnapping Alana Beaumont, the lowest-ranking person at Aquarius Social. I mean, come on. We all know Thorn is a sexy billionaire who could get any woman he wants; any man as well. You're telling me that he went out of his way to kidnap insipid Alana Beaumont? Please. This is a fantasy of hers, which I guess we can all understand, but to go public with it?"

She rolls her eyes. "I called the police station and there is absolutely no report of a kidnapping, so come on, let's cancel her silliness. We have better things to do, right?" She leans closer to the camera. "Besides, I caught wind that Malice might be in a bit of a bind. Have you heard anything? If so, post your memories right away so we can share them. I can assure you, we're offering our assistance to him." She clicks off.

"That's interesting," I say.

"What a bitch," Rosalie snaps.

That's Stacia's default setting, so I don't get too upset by it. "Yeah, but it's interesting. Have you checked the other platforms?"

Ella swallows more ice cream before answering. "There's nothing on Aquarius, which you would probably already know about, but on Hologrid Hub, there are a few low-level influencers who have picked up the question about Malice. To be honest, I can't tell who originated it, whether it was one of the Rendale sisters or somebody in the Sokolov family, but the rumors are out there."

Rosalie kicks back. She's wearing dark jeans and a red sweater, and she crosses her ankles on the card table. "Sometimes a rumor is all it takes for stock to tank. This could be a move."

I fidget with my spoon. "So somebody's trying to take Thorn down via rumor? What does that have to do with the garnets?"

"Hell if I know," Ella says. "You're right, though. The only thing that makes sense, if we believe he's telling the truth—and that's a big old if—is that for some reason the garnets he traded for you are more important than what he has planned for you."

Rosalie sighs and reaches for her discarded carton of Chunky Monkey, which is still half full. "Do you think we're going to have to kill him?"

I blink. "I thought we already dealt with that. None of us are killers."

"Yeah, but we may have to change that to protect you from him."

Deep down a voice I won't acknowledge promises that there is no protection from Thorn. My body is sore in places that still thrum, and every time I shift my weight, my clit aches. Damn him.

Ella drops a piece of cookie dough on her jeans and uses a napkin to wipe them clean. Her phone dings, and she reaches for her laptop, her eyes flicking as she reads. "We have another murder in town."

I finish my ice cream. "Murder?"

"Yeah. Look-alike to you. Brunette, yellow dress, aquamarine necklace. Face smashed in beyond recognition," she reads out loud.

Rosalie leans toward her. "That's not a coincidence I like."

I bite my lip. "Me either. You've set up a notification for similar murders?"

"Obviously," Ella says, still staring at her screen. "I didn't want to alarm you, but I did look into the murder of the young woman who the news hinted was you the other day. Her name was Lisa Alson, and she was a twenty-two-year-old waitress at the Crux Bar."

"No connection to me?" I ask.

"None." Ella shoves the spoon into the carton and sets it aside. "However, hers is the third death in two years with the same MO. Now there's a fourth victim. Young women, multiple injuries, raped, smashed-in face found outside of popular bars. Many we've visited, by the way."

Rosalie stiffens. "Same characteristics for the victims?"

Ella swipes at the stain on her jeans. "Not sure. They were young brunettes, but that's as far as it goes. The other two known vics were a doctor and a computer programmer. The police are looking at the cases separately and together, and so far, they don't have anything. There's nothing on this newest victim. Yet."

So the murders appear to be a coincidence. Except for the aquamarine necklace. That's my signature. Of course, with six million followers on our site, I'm often copied. Especially when it comes to clothing and accessories.

Rosalie stops with her spoon halfway to her mouth. "What if it's Thorn? I mean, he's obsessed, right? He can't have you so he's killing lookalikes?"

That doesn't sound like him. I don't think. Maybe. How well do I really know him? "I'm not sure," I say lamely.

"So there's no record of him obsessing about someone, and . . . I don't know, maybe authorities later finding her body in a moat somewhere?" Rosalie drawls, her eyes sparking.

"No," Ella says. "Of course there's no mention of him killing anybody, which . . ." She lets her voice trail off.

I nod and shove another spoonful in my mouth. There's no question in my mind that Thorn Beathach has killed more than once. My phone vibrates and pulls my gaze. Reading the text, my heart flutters in my chest, the rhythm frenetic.

THORN: It's good to know that you're behaving yourself. Good girl for not posting.

My head jerks up and irritation swims through my bloodstream. I pick the phone up and immediately text back.

ME: I haven't had time. I've been too busy reassembling my dress.

THORN: Get used to it.

"Is that him?" Rosalie asks.

"Oh yeah, it is." I walk over to the big screen. "Ella, give me a nondescript background, would you?"

She types and a lovely watercolor of a lake takes up the entire screen. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Absolutely." I know I'm making a mistake, but in my tired and sore state, I just don't care. He goaded me—calling me a good girl in that condescending tone. I'm nobody's good girl. He should know better. I flick on the video app of Aquarius Social and apply a light filter because I'm sure I have huge bags under my eyes. The green light starts to flicker. I smile.

"Hi, friends. Sorry about the delay. I've been rather busy. However, as you know, I still have a story to tell. So Thorn Beathach is sexier than any of you can imagine. He's about six foot six, solid muscle, and I'm going to be truthful here, he kisses like a god. And his hands. Just wait until I tell you about those broad, sexy, talented hands." I then look away as if somebody's coming. "Oh, I have to go. Make sure you explode-star this and share it with your friends if you really want to hear more about Thorn's supernatural anatomy. If you do, I'll be back in several hours. Now, get some sleep, y'all." I click off.

Rosalie chuckles. "Are you sure you want to poke the beast?"

"It's too late," Ella murmurs. "I think she just did."

My phone buzzes.

THORN: That was a mistake and you know it.

ME: I'm feeling pretty safe with my rotating security guards in every direction.

THORN: I don't make idle threats. You will not enjoy your next punishment.

My stomach drops. Yeah. I definitely just poked the beast. My heart races and my abdomen rolls over. "I might need another set of bodyguards."