TWENTY-SEVEN - Thorn

TWENTY-SEVEN

Thorn

Isit in my car outside the Rendale gates, waiting for the guard to open them. Of course it's a show of dominance by Sylveria because they should've already been open and waiting for me, but I don't really give a shit. I reach for my phone to quickly text.

ME: I'm displeased about your earlier emote video with Nico.

ALANA: Making you happy isn't one of my goals in life.

ME: It will be.

ALANA: Ha. Enjoy your date. Try the salmon.

Amusement tickles my lip. She's jealous but too stubborn to ask me about tonight's get-together.

ME: Every time you post about me increases your punishments.

ALANA: Bite me.

ME: I fully plan to. Also, fair warning. I'll give you this once with Nico because you didn't know better. If you involve any other person in a video about me without my express permission, I'll cut out their tongue and staple the bloody mess to your front door—before inflicting your original punishment for posting about me at all.

She doesn't answer for several heartbeats.

ALANA: You're evil.

ME: Now you're getting it.

Truth be told, I want to give her permission to use Nico for her videos. The guy looked like he was swallowing golf balls out of a mountain-high pile of manure the entire time. I doubt anybody hates being videoed for social media more than I do, but Nico comes close. He actually owes me one for this. I'm surprised when my phone vibrates and I look down.

ALANA: I hope you get herpes tonight.

I laugh out loud and then pause as the sound reverberates around my vehicle. When was the last time I actually did that? I swallow the honey taste in my mouth and text with one hand, watching the guard staring at me.

ME: Since you're the only person I'm fucking, if I get herpes, I'll make your life hell.

ALANA: You already are.

ME: Yeah. Multiple orgasms must feel terrible. Stop goading me.

It's as if she wants me angry when I attend this dinner. I pause. She does. My heart, if I still have one, swells.

ME: You're fucking adorable when jealous.

ALANA: You are going to die a very slow and painful death, and you're going to cry like a baby the entire time.

ME: I'm with you on the probable slow and painful part, but I don't cry.

It's time I took her home. Her impromptu meeting at Nico's with her little band of do-gooders is concerning. They're up to something.

ALANA: I'll never meet you. In fact, I'm looking elsewhere for a future mate. You're out of the running, buddy.

I growl. Deep in my chest.

ME: You're racking up punishments faster than a demon collects debts.

ALANA: You're the damn demon keeping score.

ME: Yes, I am. And baby, the house always wins. Prepare yourself.

The gate rolls open and I shove the phone into my pocket, wishing I could banter with Alana all night instead of attending this dinner. But I need to know if Sylveria created the cursed virus that's slowly killing me. My jaw aches and my gums are chilly. If my teeth fall out, I'm killing somebody.

I drive down the long and twisty driveway that leads to the looming mansion at the pinnacle of a rolling hill. Roses are everywhere, even though it's the end of the season. Rain falls onto them. They're all white, slightly swaying in the breeze.

Statues of different goddesses are strategically placed throughout the grounds. Even though it's overcast, parts of them sparkle. I have no doubt actual diamonds are inlaid in the materials.

Not one citrine is visible. Interesting.

I park near a set of gilded white double doors and stride up the stairs to knock. Normally, I would've brought flowers to a dinner such as this. But considering I'm now bound to Alana, it doesn't seem right to bring another woman flowers, even if this is a business meeting.

The door opens, and I'm somewhat surprised to see Sylveria herself performing such a menial task. Her pale features are perfectly contoured and accentuated by bright red lipstick, and her dark hair is pulled back in a fierce bun. She stands regal and tall in a silk dress with sparkling accents. It is a flattering A-line that reaches her calves, and even her three-inch heels sparkle. A diamond pendant falls beneath her breasts, matching those at her ears.

"It must be nice to have diamonds as your talisman," I say.

She smiles, revealing perfectly straight teeth. "It truly is. I don't suppose you brought me one as a gift."

"I don't suppose I did."

She gestures inside. "Hmm. We'll have to work on your manners."

I walk inside a five-story-high vestibule with a black marble floor polished to a high sheen. The chandelier above us is grand and sparkles with crystals, diamonds, and a few citrines. The citrine crystals surprise me, but I figure the chandelier needs them for balance, as it was obviously handcrafted years ago.

"Come in." She leads the way to a great room with a portrait of her deceased husband over the silent fireplace, and into an already-set formal dining room. The grandeur of the place makes my back teeth clench.

Already seated at the long mahogany table are her two daughters and a man named Horace Whimple, who, it's my understanding, is both the top programmer for TimeGem, and Sylveria's love interest. There are rumors, which I care little about, that she and Horace have been together since their childhood days back in London.

He stares at me. He's a stately man in his early sixties with a bald head and intelligent grayish-green eyes. His Armani suit fits him well. "Thorn."

I stare right back. "Horace."

Then I turn to the other two ladies at the table. "Stacia, Corinda, you both look lovely." They both smile and twitter slightly.

I'm already irritated. They couldn't look more different. Corinda is a tall blonde with short hair, and Stacia is a shorter brunette with hair a little past her shoulders. They both have their mother's blue eyes.

Their father, I know from my research, died when they were young, and then Sylveria married Brooks Rendale, who also soon died.

I scout the room. "I'm still surprised you don't bring your other daughter into the fold. Rumor has it she's quite the computer guru."

"Stepdaughter," Sylveria says smoothly. "She's estranged from the family."

"Do you even know where she is?" I ask, cocking my head.

Sylveria waves a graceful hand in the air. "No, and I don't care."

I know exactly where she is. She's an integral member of Alana's inner circle. I wonder if that means she's also now in my inner circle. The thought intrigues me.

"Please sit here." Sylveria pulls out a chair across from her girls. Horace sits at the foot of the table, while Sylveria takes her place at the head. I have no doubt it's the dynamic of the duo in the bedroom.

I sit, and almost instantly, five servers enter the room and place salads in front of us.

"I hope you like the menu tonight," Sylveria says politely. "It's steak with cheesecake for dessert. I understand that's your favorite."

My favorite dessert is Alana Beaumont. "All right."

Horace pours wine in all the glasses, and it's an excellent vintage. "To new friends," he says, his eyes diamond hard, lifting a glass. We all do so.

I have two security teams on Alana right now, and I know her father has at least three. Last time I checked, the Sokolovs are keeping one on her as well. It's amazing the woman can go anywhere without tripping over a bodyguard or two. According to my men, she's safely working away at Aquarius Social right now. Good. There's nothing wrong with working late. I smile at the thought of honey.

The Rendale women instantly smile back. "So we thought it'd be nice to get to know you tonight and discuss a merger," Sylveria says smoothly.

Stacia, the brunette, sighs. "I've studied you."

"Have you, now?" I dig into my salad.

"Yes. You could benefit from combining diamonds, and possibly obsidian, with your garnet servers."

She's correct about the obsidian, because it runs in my family. "Why the diamonds?" I ask, curious.

"It's the strongest stone," she says. "We have found that combining diamonds with other crystals increases the strength of both." She smiles, and her canine is slightly crooked, which makes her much more appealing and interesting. "However, you need somebody with an affinity and a connection to the diamonds to make it happen."

I like her approach. It's smart, and she doesn't play games.

Corinda, the blonde, elbows her. "However, let's be honest. Your social media influencers need help. They're good, but they're not nearly as good as somebody at the top would be." Her gaze lashes across me and she emits a low hum from the back of her throat. "You're obviously not interested in mind-melding with your followers."

"God, no." I sit back as our salad plates are quickly whisked away.

"I am." Corinda smiles. "I have nearly five million followers on TimeGem Moments."

Soup, some kind of pumpkin soup, is placed in front of me. "You don't have as many as Alana Beaumont," I say smoothly.

"No, but I'm close," Corinda says, her bony shoulders going back. "If you and I combined, I could leave her in the dust."

That is exactly the opposite of what I'm planning for Alana. I turn and look directly at Sylveria. "There are rumors going around about Malice Media. What have you heard?"

She delicately wipes the corners of her mouth, as if thinking. I know I've caught her off guard with a direct question.

"I've heard that you're in trouble," she says smoothly. "My sources tell me that Mathias Beaumont traded a garnet the size of an inflated puffer fish to you. You obviously required the garnet."

"Did I?" I ask.

Corinda snorts. "Most likely, you just wanted to get rid of Alana."

I cut a glance at her and she swallows, turning pale. "What do you know about the garnet?" I ask Sylveria. She's obviously the only person in the know here.

"Just what I've heard," she says. "Why? Did something happen to yours?"

Did she infect my servers, garnet, and thus me? I give her the full force of my attention. Her hand trembles slightly as she reaches for the wine. "What did you do, Sylveria?"

"Nothing," she says.

I've gone without a mint this time, so I'm forced to taste the words around me. Horace's are like moldy licorice. Stacia's, too thick mulberry wine. And Corinda, lemonade that needs sugar.

But Sylveria, she's all smooth chocolate, and I can't read her completely. It's a true gift she has. "Rumor has it you killed your husband. Did you?"

She gasps and leans back. Even then, all I can taste is chocolate. Slightly bitter, but now strong enough to prove a lie? "Of course not."

Fuck. I can't tell if she's lying. She's too good. "You want to tell me the truth." I allow the killer lurking inside me to show himself.

Her head snaps up. "How dare you call me a liar in my own house! We are here to discuss our alliance, perhaps by marriage."

I turn and look at her daughters. "Are you both willing to marry me?"

Corinda nods and licks her lips.

Stacia lifts an eyebrow. "One of us is willing to marry you. You can't have us both."

There's something about her that's likable, the dry sense of humor and the clear mind. I wonder if Justice would be interested. Of course, we have to figure out what their mother did to our servers—if she's the culprit.

The soup disappears and the steak shows up. I take a bite. It's delicious, but combined with the other tastes in my mouth from these people, it's too much. "You do know that I believe in payback." I speak directly to Sylveria this time.

She throws her napkin onto the table. "Fine. Hypothetically, I may have an idea of who attacked your garnets and thus your servers."

"I believe said attack tried to maim me, although it's not having any effect." My feet are freezing, damn it.

"No effect?" The glint in her eye makes the blue sparkle brighter. "I will devote all of my resources to discovering who has attacked Malice Media"—she takes another sip of her wine—"after we consolidate our holdings in marriage. You do want to live, don't you?"