THIRTY-NINE - Thorn

THIRTY-NINE

Thorn

I'm freezing to death. There's no question about it. I can't feel my legs and my left arm is completely frozen over. My fingernails are blue and it feels as if my heart is slowing, the warm blood bouncing off frozen walls.

Though I wear a suit every day, for some reason a tuxedo feels restrictive. I fight the urge to tug on the stupid tie as I barely keep myself upright near the bar, my masquerade mask serving to hide my scar. The mint at the back of my tongue is doing its job, so at least there's that.

Justice stands at my side, an odd energy pouring off him. He wants to be back at the computers, trying to cure the garnet, and I don't blame him. So do I.

I see Sylveria and her daughters across the ballroom, walking along the rows of silent auction items that range from new computers to skydiving lessons.

The ball takes place at the Natural History Museum and Estates. With its vast property, there's plenty of room for security, and so far, the event has gone perfectly smoothly. The main ballroom opens out to a garden area and outdoor lounge where people have already gathered now that the rain has finally ebbed and it's a rather nice night.

I nod to Justice and ignore his angry look. We are going to post tonight and reach far and wide. If I'm going to die, I'm going to leave him a powerful company. "Now," I mouth.

Justice edges to my side, his phone up. "Hi, all! I'm hitting Thorn Beathach up right now. He's here, waiting for the lovely Alana Beaumont to arrive. She's been posting about him all week. Right?"

"She's not doing that any longer," I say, a growl in my voice.

Justice chuckles. "We'll just see." He ends the mind meld. "Good job. That should gain us a bunch of energy."

"Get away from me before I break your jaw," I grind out.

Justice, not being a moron, turns and heads toward the bar.

Alana and her entourage are fashionably late, which does not surprise me. However, I know from the men I have on her that she'll be walking in the door any minute. I'm curious whether she'll be wearing my offering.

Even though she's clearly disobeying me, I created a gift for her before tonight, and I'd left it at her place. If I survive this, when we're both feeling better, it'll be the only thing she's wearing when I teach her not to disobey me.

My entire body tightens in anticipation, even through the ice coating my veins.

Everybody who's anybody in Silicon Valley is either scouting the auction items, hitting the bars, or eating by the buffet table. The music is playing lightly in the background, but thus far the dance floor is vacant.

The Sokolovs are not present, no doubt because of Cal's death. I did make him eat his fingers.

The Rendales apparently decide they've waited long enough and make their move to approach me.

"Thorn, don't you look nice in a tux," Sylveria says. Both of her daughters nod. She is dressed in a champagne-colored gown that sweeps the floor and has more diamonds on her than is present in most mines. Corinda is in a black sequin number and Stacia a blue, both decked out with diamonds everywhere. It's a cold stone and it fits them.

"Do we have an announcement to make tonight?" Sylveria asks smoothly.

"I hardly think this is the place for announcements," Justice says, coming up by my side. His mask is slightly askew and he fixes it. The masks are stupid, but I do like camouflaging myself behind one. The last thing I need is a bunch of pictures, especially if I'm about to pass out and die. Most people don't know what I look like, or at least they don't know who I am, and I travel through the city's underbelly much more easily that way.

Corinda leans in, as if she has the best secret ever. "I heard that Aquarius Social is losing members by the second because of Nico. A serial killer! Can you believe it?"

Yes. I definitely can. "Sylveria, did you attack my servers yesterday?" I ask smoothly.

She presses a diamond-adorned hand to her chest. "Why, Thorn, how could you even ask such a thing? We're about to be family."

I don't like torturing women. It doesn't mean I won't do it. "If you did, I suggest you tell me now." I already know it's her. It has to be.

"I would never do such a thing. Now, the girls and I are going to fetch something to eat. Something small, of course, and when you've regained your manners, we will be back." With a swish of her skirts, she pivots and storms off rather gracefully.

Stacia sighs. "Seriously, can't we just all get along? Are we getting married or not?" She is eminently likable. I don't know why, because she shouldn't be.

"Have you met my brother, Justice?" I ask.

"No." She holds out a hand.

Justice shakes it. "It's very nice to meet you," he says smoothly.

"I'm sure it is." Winking, she turns and saunters toward the buffet.

Corinda lingers. "I'll make a much better wife than she will," she says, her voice several octaves too high. "Seriously, I have five million followers, Thorn. I could bring them all right over to Malice Media." She looks me over and I feel like a slab of meat. "You're hot. We could have a good life together. What do you think?"

I find her colder than the diamonds around her throat. "No."

She lightly trails her fingers down my arm. "You'll want to reconsider." With that, she turns and follows her mother and sister.

Justice gives a mock shudder. "That's a shark."

"Yeah, no kidding," I mutter, and then the doors open, and I taste honey.

The entire world grinds to a halt and warmth roars through my chilled body. Alana is absolutely exquisite. Her gown is a canary yellow silk embellished with what have to be pure diamonds and aquamarine crystals that make the dress shimmer with every movement. On her, the diamonds look warm and inviting.

I don't like the white bandage around her arm, but the color in her face is good.

A deep heart-shaped neckline plunges to the tops of her breasts before the bodice narrows to her slim waist. The skirt descends perfectly to the floor, but as she walks, I can see hints of aquamarine-and-diamond shoes that match the jewels on the dress.

I look at her neck and see the gift I had created for her. An eighty-karat diamond serves as the centerpiece with folds of aquamarine crystals bracketing the stone on each side. The main collar is aquamarine and curves around her neck, changing to diamonds as it coils to the end. It is stunning and yet nowhere near as beautiful as the woman herself. I'm pleased that she decided to wear it.

As if she knows my thoughts, she gingerly touches the timeless piece. It's the first of many I plan to give her.

I like how Quinlan and Mathias scout the ballroom before they all walk inside. Oh, they're not as good a protector as I am, but at least they're on alert. Quinlan has a backpack over his shoulders.

How odd.

The mask over the top half of Alana's sculpted face hides her bruise. Next to her, Ella is in a deep blue gown, Rosalie in a surprising pink, and Scarlett in a deep red that matches her name.

The entire place stills and turns to look at my woman.

She's royalty. Her chin is up, and she looks like the survivor she is. A rumbling starts throughout the crowd and then several people clap.

It's not every day the Silicon Valley princess survives a serial killer.

I've waited long enough. I place my drink on the bar and stride toward her with Justice at my side. I reach them and bow slightly, my gait slower than usual and my vocal cords chilled. "Alana."

She smiles and appears delightfully nervous, as if she isn't sure what I'm about to do. Her eyes sparkle behind the mask, and I believe she's happy to see me. "Hello."

I like that she doesn't use my name. "I've been waiting for you. Would you like to dance?"

Mathias puffs up as if ready to object.

"I would love to." She slips her hand in mine.

I turn and draw her to the middle of the dance floor, noting Justice and Scarlett next to us. Oh, he's flanking me as he always does, but the woman's enticing, so maybe he'll have a good time for a few minutes.

We really have become brothers, probably thanks to Alana.

I shoot a pointed look at the orchestra and the conductor stiffens, turns, and immediately starts a waltz. I move easily into the dance, pressing Alana close.

"What in the world are you doing?" she whispers.

"Dancing with you while I can."

The woman warms me. As we move, my legs loosen up.

"It took a while to get this necklace fastened." She leans back to look up at me, feeling right in my arms, exactly where she should be. "Thank you for the flowers, and for this exquisite piece. I don't even know what to say. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"It suits you," I say.

"It's made of lovely stones," she murmurs. "It must have taken a long time to create."

Six months, to be exact. I've been hunting her that long, at least. "I knew someday you'd wear it."

She rolls her eyes but moves easily within my arms to the music. "There's that ego again." Then her nails dig into my neck. "Did you chip me?"

"I did."

She stumbles but quickly regains her balance, and I hold her tighter. "Where?" she hisses.

Between two of her toes. "That's irrelevant. How are you feeling?" I ask.

"Just fine. A through-and-through is no biggie." Her smile does look a little off, but she's dancing gracefully, so her motor skills haven't diminished. "I am not happy about the chip, and we are having it removed, but thank you for rushing to my rescue."

"I protect what's mine." I lean down and brush her mouth in a firm kiss, well aware of the many phones and cameras focused on us right now. Several people crowd the dance floor, taking advantage of the music. I steer her toward the middle so we stay out of view of as many of those cameras as possible.

"What are you doing?" she hisses quietly after I release her delectable mouth.

"Making a claim," I say calmly.

She stumbles and I quickly right her. "I thought you were going to behave tonight."

"I don't know what that means," I say honestly, tucking her closer. "Now be nice and dance with me, or I'll make a claim nobody will forget."

Her irritated groan coincides with a half laugh. "How frozen are you?"

"Better now that you're here." True statement.

She nods. "It's my stones. I've been reading all of your books, the ones I borrowed, and certain crystals interact with each other in ways we've forgotten." Pink filters across her high cheekbones. "Or you and I interact and our stones follow."

Now that, I believe.

I clamp my hand against her waist and move us into a slower song. Finally giving in, she melts against me, and for the moment, everything's right in my world. We dance three more sets before I see Kazstone rush inside, a backpack over his shoulders, his eyes wild. "What the fuck?"

She pauses. "It's about damn time he got here."

I pause. "What?"

For answer, she grabs my hand. "Come on, Thorn. Trust me."