THIRTY-SIX - Alana

THIRTY-SIX

Alana

My chest aching, I turn and walk back into Nico's place to help him clean up. Thunder sounds outside and I jump. How silly. A chill pierces down my spine. I gather the rest of the dishes and carry them into the kitchen.

Nico is sitting at the table typing rapidly on a laptop. "Damn, I wish I was as good as Ella is at this," he mutters.

I place the dishes in the sink and study him. "Speaking of Ella . . ."

He looks up. "No."

I grin. "Come on, tell me what's going on. She blushes every time you come near her."

He rolls his eyes. "I like her. She's brilliant, and she understands computers better than anybody else. In fact, if we could talk your father into it, I'd like to hire her at Aquarius Social."

I think it would be a lot of fun to work with my best friend, notwithstanding her dislike for my . . . what is Thorn? I can't exactly call him a boyfriend, because there's nothing boyish about him. "I don't know that she would work for a rival of TimeGem's," I muse.

He sits back. "Why not? They cast her out. She's not part of their family."

"No, but she has plans to retake her interest someday," I say. "Helping us build Aquarius Social isn't in her best interests, although I'm happy to talk to my father."

"Good," he says. "She can be quite handy."

"Do you like her?" I ask in a singsong voice.

He rolls his eyes again. "Yeah, I like her. She's funny and sweet, and she has that whole wounded-animal thing going on."

"Wounded animal?" I ask.

"You know. She's alone in this world. You can see it in her eyes."

I think that's one of the saddest things I've ever heard about Ella, even if it is true. "She's not alone. She has me."

"Yeah, but it's not the same as family, is it?" His gaze darkens.

I feel for him, having lost his parents young. I know what it's like to grow up without a mother. "No," I admit. "It's not the same." Although I can't exactly say that my father is touchy-feely.

The TV drones on quietly in the background, hung below the cupboard across the way, mostly about the ball tonight.

"I really do need you to behave at the event," I tell him. "No matter what Cal has done, I don't want a scene."

Nico gives one short nod. "That's fine. Cal and I can have a discussion tomorrow. I won't do anything to cause you a problem. You and I are family, Alana. You're all that really matters."

He misses Greg as much as I do. Probably more, considering they hung out a lot.

"I'm glad you found Ella," I say.

He shrugs. "I don't think there's any longevity with that, but I'm glad I found her, as well."

"Why not?" I ask, smiling. "She's perfect."

He snorts. "Nobody's perfect. Well, almost nobody." His gaze catches on the TV, and he stills, peering forward.

"What?" I say, looking.

A tall, redheaded reporter stands down from several other reporters, all speaking adamantly into microphones. I catch two words: murder and Cal. "What?" I move closer, looking at the rainy scene. "Turn it up," I say.

He grabs a remote and turns up the volume.

"Hi, this is Christine Salisbury with Channel Two News." The woman's green eyes light. "We're standing outside of a crime scene"—she moves slightly to show the yellow flapping tape—"where the body of Cal Sokolov was found an hour ago."

I fall into the seat next to Nico. "Oh, my God," I whisper.

Nico's mouth gapes open, and he just watches the TV.

The reporter tries to dampen her enthusiasm and almost manages a somber look. "My sources tell me that Mr. Sokolov was beaten severely before having his jugular cut." She leans toward the camera. "In a disturbing twist of events, all of his fingers are cut off."

The screen splits and shows an older man in a studio. "Christine, are his fingers anywhere near the body?" He actually sounds properly somber at this turn of events.

She shakes her hair wildly, standing under a lime-green umbrella. "No, his fingers are nowhere to be found, according to my source."

I gulp. Bile rises in my throat. The fingers weren't found because Thorn forced Cal to eat them. Isn't that what he said? Anybody who touched me would eat their own fingers? I gag.

Nico looks at me. "What?"

My stomach turns over. "I think it was Thorn."

"What? When?"

My body chills. "When he left me this morning."

"What else do you know?" the male reporter asks.

Christine moves slightly away from the crime scene tape, her hair blowing in the tempestuous wind. Even with her umbrella, the rain is coating her smooth skin. "Just that he was found on his front stoop. His own property."

"So was he killed there?" the reporter asks.

Her brightly painted pink lips turn down. "It doesn't look like it. My source believes he was dumped here, so maybe his fingers are wherever the crime took place."

His fingers are currently dissolving in his own stomach acid. I cover my mouth with my hand. How could Thorn? I mean, Mrs. Pendrake was pretty clear that he only killed the guilty, but to go this far, just because of me, I can't believe it.

I gag again and stand up, clapping both hands over my mouth to run to the nearest bathroom where I lose my breakfast. Chaotic thoughts keep whipping through my head. Thorn has never lied to me. He told me what would happen, and it's exactly what happened.

Standing, I rinse out my mouth and turn, looking into Nico's bedroom. I glance down at my shirt, which has vomit on it. Wincing, I walk into his room and tug open a drawer to find a T-shirt. Inside are several aquamarine necklaces, beautiful ones, just like mine. I pause. Wait a minute. My head is fuzzy, and I can't believe this. Why does he have all of these necklaces that look like mine? I take one along with a T-shirt and walk through the apartment to where he's standing next to the window.

Lightning flashes outside, illuminating him. He turns and looks at me. I've seen him like this before. Illuminated by lightning.

It all comes back so quickly, him in front of the window and with my mother crying. My jaw slackens and I drop the necklace. The stones shatter across the floor, a shard cutting my foot.

Thorn

The server room of Malice Media smells like hinge oil and stale coffee. I'm pacing while Justice and Kaz sit at their computers. Ice is chugging through my veins like chunks in a river when the snow melts. Every once in a while, a piece will catch and shoot pain through my entire system.

I had to use a cane to get to the car today. It's unthinkable. Tonight's ball with Alana might be my last night. The garnet is fading fast, as am I.

"Maybe there's a way to tie the garnet into the alexandrite crystals," Kaz says, scrubbing both hands through his hair. I idly wonder when he slept last. He looks like hell, not that I slept last night, either.

My phone buzzes and I lift it to my ear. "Beathach," I snarl.

"It's Sylveria. I'd like to announce your engagement to one of my daughters tonight at the ball. Which one do you want?"

Neither. "It's not going to happen." Alana is the only woman I'll ever want.

Sylveria scoffs. "If you want to fix your servers, you'll stop playing around."

I stiffen. My servers? "What do you mean?"

"Don't play stupid," she snaps. "If you want me to repair what ails Malice Media, you'll do as I say."

She doesn't know. It hits me then. She's fishing. "Fine. Tell me what kind of resonance disruptor you used to interfere with the functioning of my fucking garnets."

Her chuckle is throaty. "Those garnets can be sticky with their resonant frequencies, right? I'll give you the code to recalculate all of your frequencies the second you take your vows."

The bitch has no clue that I'm as ill as my garnet. I growl as my chest freezes and a rib cracks. Scrambling in my pocket, I pull out a chunk of aquamarine I filched from Alana's closet.

The pain ebbs slightly. I frown and look down at the glowing crystal. Is our connection such that her stone soothes mine?

Sylveria clears her throat.

I end the call. "It's not her," I say. So who the hell infected me?

Justice shakes his head. "Who else is that good? You think Mathias has somebody?"

I rub my aching rib cage. "I don't know."

Justice keeps typing and barely flashes a smile. "The alexan-drites are working within our system. Fast. Are you seeing this?"

Kaz nods. "Yeah, I am, but the malware that infected the garnet is exhibiting polymorphism and it's doing a good job."

"It's changing its behavior to hide?" I ask.

That's impressive. Whoever came up with this is brilliant. Kaz and Justice will be able to fight the malware, and even counteract it, but probably not within the next few days.

Long after I'm gone.

Justice's computer dings and he types quickly. "Holy shit. Thorn, bring up the local news on your terminal."

I sit and connect to the local news stream to see a report about Sokolov's body being found, freshly dead. The sirens were already echoing over the hills after I dumped him on his porch around noon. We looked through traffic cams and destroyed what we could, but I still don't know how the police found out so quickly.

"There was another body at the scene besides Sokolov's," Justice hisses.

"What?" I type and bring up a different news station.

A young blonde reporter is speaking earnestly to the camera, the rain pummeling down on her red umbrella. "Yes, and apparently the female was beneath a rosebush, close to the front door. Her face is smashed in. She's a brunette and she was wearing a yellow dress, much like the four other victims found these last two years. What's notable is that she's wearing a lovely aquamarine necklace that looks like the one Alana Beaumont always wears."

Everything inside me that's already not frozen goes stone-cold. I stand, kicking the chair back.

"Did you see another body today?" Justice asks, one hand yanking his hair straight up.

"Of course not." It can't be her. It absolutely can't be her. My hand trembles as I pull my phone from my pocket and dial. The call goes directly to Alana's voice mail. I left her in bed early this morning. "It can't be."

Justice is already on the phone, calling our men.

No, this makes no sense. I know that she left her place and went to her cousin's safely that morning. This is not her.

But as I look at the screen, I recognize that necklace.

It's Alana's.

Fire lights me from within. Then reality smacks me. I grab my phone and click to an app to see a pink blinking light. "She's at Nico's." Yeah, I chipped her when she was sleeping after going too many rounds with Sokolov.

Justice exhales loudly. "You didn't."

"Yeah, I did." Why in the world is he surprised?

My phone buzzes and everything settles inside me as I see that it's her. My shoulders relax. "Hey, baby," I answer. "I'm coming to get you." I hear muffled sounds. "Alana?" I ask. Her voice comes through tinny, as if far away.

"I don't understand, Nico," she's saying. "Where are we going?"

"Shut up or I'll shoot you." Nico's voice is higher than normal.

The words come through way too clearly. Heat roars down my torso, warming the freezing crystals inside me. I click mute. Why would Nico be threatening her? "She's in trouble with Nico. Where are our men?"

Justice looks up. "We have two teams outside his place."

"Go in—take her now," I say, already running toward the elevator, not liking where my thoughts are going. Nico has always been in the background, and much of the time I spent watching her, he was right there. But he's family, so his constant presence made sense to me.

Justice and Kaz are on my heels. I turn and plant a hand on Kaz's shoulder. "I need you here on the computers."

"Got it." He returns to his console as Justice and I ride the elevator. I'm running for the door before it opens and barrel outside to my armored SUV. "Get out." I pull my driver out and jump inside. I don't need anybody else on this. Justice barely makes it around the front and inside before I punch the gas.

He slams his door. "Jesus, hold on a minute."

"No." I can't believe it. I've never felt fear like this. In fact, I'm not entirely sure I've felt fear since I was kidnapped as a kid. She has to be okay.

He reads the screen on his phone. "They've just breached the front door and they're headed up to the penthouse."

I lift my phone to my ear and try to listen. Everything's muffled. This isn't making any sense. Why would Nico want to hurt her? How is her necklace on the body of a dead girl? "Call Kaz. I want a deep dive, deeper than before, on Nico Beaumont."

"I'm on it," Justice says, barking orders to our team before giving instructions to Kazstone.

I listen. Her voice is muffled. "Nico, talk to me. Where are we going?"

Shit, does that mean they're not in the penthouse? I strain to hear better.

"Trust me, I'll get us out of here," he says. Then there's the sound of a running vehicle.

"He has her in a car," I mutter.

Justice listens to his phone. "Our team breached the penthouse. Nobody's there."

"He got her out of there somehow. They're in a vehicle. Look on the street," I bark, my ears ringing. I am going to tear that asshole apart molecule by molecule. She's in danger and I'm not there. I'm not entirely sure there's a God, but I think about praying anyway. If there's anybody who should be saved, it's Alana.

I hear her cry out and it's like fingernails shredding me from within.

"Damn it," Nico swears. Something shuffles loudly and then a large crack echoes.

I can track the woman, but time isn't on my side. Nico could hurt her, maybe even kill her, before I can get to them.

The phone goes dead.