26. Tendrils of Doubt

CHAPTER 26

Tendrils of Doubt

W hat the hell was wrong with Brynleigh? She'd worked so hard to build up her boundaries, only to let Ryker completely demolish them in a single moment. A very good, pleasurable moment, but still a moment.

Many things could happen in a moment. People were born. Others died. Lovers declared their affection. Killers took their final blows.

And Brynleigh?

She gave Ryker control over her body. She let him bring her to immense pleasure.

A thousand curses ran through her mind. She barely paid attention as Ryker led her into the elevator, barely noticed that he still held her hand. All she could do was think about what they'd done in the car. She needed to rebuild the wall between them, and this time, she would respect them.

It didn't matter that Ryker made her feel better than anyone else or that she'd come harder on his fingers than she'd ever been able to do alone.

It didn't matter that when they'd kissed—really, truly kissed for the first time—it was like the world exploded behind her eyes .

And it really didn't matter that his touch sparked things within her that she had absolutely no business feeling.

This was a game. She had one purpose. One reason for being here.

Brynleigh was just having a gods-damned difficult time remembering what that was.

Get through today . The thought churned through her mind. She could do this. In less than twelve hours, after dinner with Ryker's family tonight, Brynleigh would return to the safe house.

That was good. Once she was on familiar ground, she would have an easier time remembering her purpose. It would ground her. And after spending the past week in The Lily and what they'd done in the car, she needed that more than ever.

By the time the elevator dinged, Brynleigh was ready.

In an action that was becoming as familiar as tying her shoes, she collected all her emotions—there were more every gods-damned time she was around the captain—and got rid of them.

Just in time, too.

Ryker's thumb brushed against the back of her hand as they stepped out of the elevator. He led her down the hallway, pointing at several doors and naming the neighbors who lived in each space.

It looked like a clean, comfortable building, although the designer didn't seem to realize there were other colors besides brown and beige. Everything, from the carpet beneath their feet to the ceiling above their heads, was a dull, muted shade. It wasn't Brynleigh's favorite, but since she had no actual plans to reside here—Ryker would be dead before she officially moved in—it didn't matter.

They were halfway down the hall when a loud bark came from further down. Brynleigh tensed, but Ryker didn't seem concerned. In fact, he seemed… happier. They rounded the corner as a door opened at the end of the corridor.

An enormous inky lump of fur the size of a bear cub barreled towards them. It woofed, and then, two massive paws landed on Brynleigh's chest. She stumbled back at the impact, her back slamming into the wall. A slobbery tongue ran up her face, and the black furry monster nuzzled her cheek .

"Down, Marlowe." Ryker's stern voice left no room for discussion. "Let your new mom say hello."

Brynleigh's eyes widened as the bear—no, the dog—listened immediately. Marlowe sat in front of her, his tail thumping against the ground in obvious delight. His pink tongue lolled out of his mouth, and he looked up at Brynleigh with big, brown eyes.

"This is Marlowe?" She peeled herself off the wall. "You said he was a dog, not a bear."

Fae couldn't lie, but this animal was… enormous. Far bigger than she had expected.

A booming laugh left Ryker's lips and echoed around the hallway. "Marlie is an Eleytan Mountain Dog. They're…"

"Gigantic," Brynleigh finished for him. She hadn't known they made canines this huge.

A tall, red-headed fae with tattoos on his neck and arms jogged out of the open doorway, holding an empty blue leash in his hands. "Sorry, Ryker. I tried to keep him in, but you know how he is."

"No worries, Atlas, no harm done," said Ryker.

Pieces clicked into place. Ryker had spoken about the earth fae several times, and now she could put a face to the name.

Ryker slung an arm over Brynleigh's shoulder and kissed her cheek. "Atlas, this is my beautiful fiancée."

She waved awkwardly. "Hi."

"Atlas is a pain in the ass, dog-watcher extraordinaire, and he's also one of my oldest friends." Ryker nodded in the earth fae's direction.

"Nice to meet you." Atlas put out his hand, and Brynleigh shook it.

Even though Atlas was objectively handsome, with his tattoos and muscles for days, Brynleigh didn't feel a single twinge of attraction toward him. Not like she did for Ryker. When the water fae touched her, it was like she was burning up from the inside out.

Damn it all to hell. That probably meant something, but like everything else lately, Brynleigh shoved all those emotions down, down, down until she was somewhat numb.

No matter what, Ryker was still her family's murderer, and she would still kill him.

"Here, Marlowe," Atlas called .

The dog trotted after to the fae, his tail wagging. Smiling, Ryker put his hand on Brynleigh's back and led her into a small mudroom. Shoes sat on racks, and several jackets hung on hooks. A picture of Ryker and Marlowe was on the wall. The two of them were posing together, surrounded by pine trees. A shining blue lake was behind them. It seemed impossible, but between the relaxed posture and the grin on Ryker's face, he looked even more handsome than before.

More emotions went away. The box threatened to burst open right then and there.

That wouldn't do.

Desperate and in need of a new solution so she could survive this, Brynleigh decided she would try being numb. If she didn't acknowledge the emotions, they couldn't bother her.

That was good.

Numbness was the answer. She needed it to work.

If Brynleigh weren't numb, watching Ryker love on Marlowe and shower him with hugs and slobbery kisses would've tugged on her heartstrings. If she weren't numb, her smile and laugh would've been genuine when Ryker and Atlas shared stories about how they met in high school. And if she weren't numb, her insides would've warmed when Atlas pulled out his phone and showed her a picture of the two gangly fae as teenagers with big glasses and stacks of books in their arms. Ryker had certainly grown up since then.

But since she was numb, they didn't affect her. Nope. Not at all.

She was numb. Empty. A void. That's what she told herself.

Her heart certainly didn't grow three sizes when Ryker crouched down and hugged Marlowe, letting the dog give him a series of wet embraces before Atlas took him out.

That didn't happen.

She was ice. Emotionless. She focused on rebuilding her boundaries, brick by fucking brick.

A crack appeared in the cold, numb veneer when the door closed, and Ryker's hand landed on the small of her back. "Ready for your tour of the apartment?"

They were still in the mudroom .

"Yes." A blatant lie. Brynleigh was not ready for this. She should turn and run.

Was it too much to pray for a sudden illness? Something to stop this from happening. If she were mortal, she could claim food poisoning. Alas, she hadn't eaten anything.

Brynleigh supposed she could kill Ryker now, but there were witnesses. They'd seen her come up, and it was unlikely she'd get out of the apartment complex before being caught. It was daytime, which severely limited her escape routes.

And then there was the added complication that Brynleigh didn't want to kill Ryker. Yet . Following the plan was the best course of action. No need to act irrationally.

There was definitely no other reason she was hesitating.

"Welcome home, sweetheart." Ryker opened the door to the main apartment and held it for her.

One step was all it took for the ice around Brynleigh's heart to melt. Her boundaries? Smashed into smithereens. Her resolve to stay numb? Gone.

She stood in the doorway, unable to move. Her heart slammed against her chest, and she stared at the windows.

Ryker had assured Brynleigh that she would be safe in his apartment. She had believed him, expecting to see blackout curtains stretched across the windows to block the sun's deadly rays. That's what most people did.

This , though? This was far more than that.

Every single windowpane had been replaced with high-quality black glass. Specialty material that she'd heard of but never seen. And it wasn't like there was only one window. No. The corner apartment had an entire wall that looked out onto the balcony, and another large set of windows was over the sink in the kitchen.

Having this done on short notice must have cost Ryker an Isvana-damned fortune.

Brynleigh's feet were approaching the windows before she realized what was happening. She navigated around the leather couch and placed her palm on the tinted glass. Her breath caught in her throat, and she looked outside. She couldn't have torn away her gaze, even if she tried .

For the first time in six years, she saw the sun. It was muted and had grayish tones, but there was no doubting what it was. She fixated on that yellow orb. Gods help her, but she'd missed it so damn much. Her vision blurred.

"Fuck," she muttered, wiping a finger under her eyes.

She wasn't supposed to feel anything. This wasn't supposed to be real.

Except… Ryker had given her the sun. The one thing she missed most since her Making. How was she supposed to ignore that?

This unexpected gift was the single most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for her.

Several minutes passed in silence. Ryker walked up behind her, his footsteps quiet as if they were in a temple. Neither of them spoke.

Brynleigh drank in the view. The sun. From this vantage point, the golden arches that gave Golden City its name were visible in the distance.

Eventually, Ryker moved. His chest pressed against her back, and his hands landed on her hips as he rested his chin on her shoulder. He didn't disturb her, didn't try to talk. He let her look at the sun for as long as she needed.

Minutes passed.

Heat bloomed in Brynleigh, and a feeling that she had absolutely no business experiencing came to life within her. She didn't even bother identifying it. She bundled it up along with everything else and shoved it down, down, down.

At this rate, Brynleigh would be a cold, numb, emotionless vampire when she married Ryker. Maybe that was for the best. Her emotions and her body were both clearly confused, having forgotten why this was the best course—the only course—for her vengeance.

Even now, Jelisette's voice echoed in Brynleigh's head.

Not only will killing the reclusive captain on your wedding night be poetic vengeance for the death of your family, but it will teach all the Representatives a lesson. From that moment until the end of time, they will always be watching, always waiting for the next hit. Because of you .

Brynleigh had heard the rhetoric a hundred times. She knew it by heart. It used to sound so good, so right. She used almost to feel giddy when she thought of her plan. But now?

Tendrils of doubt were weaving their way through her soul, taking root, and growing like hungry weeds. Every time she ripped one up, two more grew in its place.

"Let's take a look at the apartment." Ryker's hand landed on the small of her back.

Gods help her but she didn't pull away. She couldn't.

He added, "We can change whatever you want, sweetheart. Say the word, and it's done."

Great. Now he was being fucking considerate, too? How in the hell was she supposed to deal with this?

Cold-blooded killers weren't supposed to act like Ryker. They weren't supposed to give you the sun or be amenable to making alterations for your comfort. They were supposed to be horrible, awful people who didn't give a damn about you.

Turning around—and pointedly ignoring the fact that Ryker was touching her—Brynleigh took in the space. It was a nice apartment, a little masculine for her taste if she were being honest, but well-built. The large kitchen was clean, and it opened into the living area. There was a sturdy dining table with four matching chairs. A chess set sat on the coffee table in front of the TV. Down the hall were two doors that led to what she assumed were the bedroom and bathroom.

"Maybe a few coats of paint?" After all, she was supposed to be playing the part of the excited bride. Besides, she'd always been partial to springtime colors. "Or we could get a few throw pillows to liven it up."

"We can buy as many as you want." He wrapped his arms around her from behind and rested his chin on her head. "Anything you can think of, it's yours. I barely have any expenses, and I've been saving money since I started working."

See? Considerate. Why couldn't Ryker have been an alpha fae asshole who bossed her around and didn't have a trace of kindness in him? It would've made her life a hell of a lot easier. But no, she had to get stuck with the one fae who seemed to care about her thoughts and feelings .

This was… a lot. The longer they looked around the living room, the worse she felt. Her lungs squeezed, and old sweat broke out on her neck.

"Is there a bathroom?" Brynleigh extricated herself from Ryker's grip and stepped back, trying to put some room between them.

Space. That's what she needed. Space to breathe. To recover. To just… be away from all this .

"Of course." He smiled and pointed down the hall. "First door on the right."

Brynleigh thanked him and hurried down the corridor. She didn't slow down to look at the pictures on the walls. She slipped into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

Gods, there was even a blacked-out window in here, right above the tub. Was there no escaping Ryker's kindness?

Closing her eyes, Brynleigh leaned against the bathroom door and released her shadows. They'd been thrumming incessantly in her veins since the incident in the car. As soon as she permitted them to slip from her hands, they whipped out of her violently, darkening the room until the night surrounded her.

Breathe . She forced her lungs to take in air.

Inhale. Exhale.

So, Ryker had a huge, cuddly dog that he seemed to love. That didn't inherently mean he wasn't evil. Even bad men could care about dogs. She'd probably be more concerned if he didn't like animals. What kind of psychopath didn't care about pets?

And the windows. Admittedly, the unexpected gesture was nice, but Ryker was still the same man who'd called down a tempest and drowned everyone she knew. He was still a cold-blooded killer.

Brynleigh twisted the necklace her parents had given her on her eighteenth birthday. It was a constant reminder of their loss. Right now, she desperately needed that reminder.

Opening her eyes, she met her reflection's gaze in the mirror. "They're gone because of him," she hissed, careful to keep her voice low. "Pull yourself together."

Captain Ryker Waterborn put on a good show, but he was still the cause of all her heartbreak. He still deserved to die .

The front door clicked open, and two male voices murmured. Claws scratched on the floor. A bark.

Atlas was back with Marlowe.

Turning on the tap, Brynleigh splashed her face with cold water. The frigid temperature was good for her. It helped snap her back to reality.

She was a doubly blessed vampire, for Isvana's sake. She thrived on blood and darkness and shadows. She wouldn't let something as trivial as a few considerate, kind gestures deter her from her goal. Gripping the countertop, Brynleigh hardened her eyes and glared at herself.

"You are strong and will not crack," she told herself sternly. "Remember why you're here. Respect your boundaries, and you'll be fine."

Confident in her renewed ability to keep emotions out of this, Brynleigh rejoined the others.

She could do this.

Fuck.

She couldn't do this.

By the time the clock struck four in the afternoon, and they were set to leave Marlowe behind in Atlas's capable hands, Brynleigh was a ball of nerves.

At least those emotions, she could keep. There was nothing wrong with nerves. Thank the gods they were safe because she had many of them. Apprehension gnawed at her stomach, eating her up from the inside out. It was those damned tendrils of doubt. They had exploded within her and were now a tangle of knots.

Brynleigh had always assumed that the Ryker she got to know during the Choosing was an act. A show he put on to attract a wife.

No one could actually be that good of a guy, right?

Except it didn't seem to be an act. Atlas shared story after story about his friend, even after Ryker asked him to stop, and though the words varied, the theme was the same. Ryker had saved Atlas from a life on the streets, giving him a home when he had none. Ryker had backed Atlas up when someone from his past came calling for blood.

Ryker did this. Ryker did that. Story after story painted the captain in the same light: he didn't seem to have a bad bone in his body.

And that was just… not fair.

Not fair at all.

And Marlowe? The big dog had leaped on Brynleigh the moment she'd left the bathroom, and he'd been glued to her side ever since. He was the sweetest animal, cuddling beside her on the couch and placing his head in her lap as she absentmindedly petted him.

Even worse than all that, Ryker kept checking in on Brynleigh. He brought her a mug of warmed blood from the stash he'd had shipped to the apartment, and he stayed beside her the entire afternoon.

And they weren't just sitting together. No. The water fae was always touching her. A hand on her shoulder. A thigh pressed against hers. His thumb on her hip, rubbing circles.

If their date had ended here and she'd been returning to the safe house right away, Brynleigh would have been fine. She could have handled that.

But no.

That had just been the beginning. Now, the real test was underway. Ryker's hand was a brand on Brynleigh's back as he led her to the underground parking garage. The same man who'd driven them there stood outside the car.

"Captain, Miss." The driver dipped his head. "I hope you had a pleasant afternoon."

Unfortunately, yes , Brynleigh thought to herself. She had the common sense not to say that, though. It would open a can of worms she had no intention of dealing with.

"We did, thank you, Davis," Ryker said.

Davis moved towards the door as though to open it, but Ryker got there first. In yet another considerate gesture—really, this was becoming overwhelming—he held it open for Brynleigh and waited for her to enter the vehicle.

Once Brynleigh was inside, Ryker slid in after her. The air still smelled of sex, and Brynleigh blushed as she buckled in. Gods, this day couldn't be over fast enough.

"How far is your parents' house?" Brynleigh tapped her pocket to make sure she hadn't forgotten her phone. She needed to be available in case her Maker called.

"Thirty minutes without traffic." Ryker slung his arm over her shoulder and drew her flush against him. "How do you feel?"

"I'm… nervous." And for good reason. She had no idea what she'd say to his parents.

Hi, it's nice to meet you. My name's Brynleigh de la Point. I'm twenty-nine, and six years ago, your son killed my entire family and almost killed me. I'm going to marry and then murder him to get my revenge in the most dramatic and emotionally damaging way possible.

She hadn't participated in many family gatherings in the past six years, but she was fairly certain that wouldn't go over well.

"They're going to love you as much as I do." Ryker kissed her forehead, and his lips lingered on her skin for several seconds before he added, "You're amazing, and they'll see that."

"I hope so," she murmured.

"They'd be stupid not to." He rapped on the roof, and then, they were off.

As Golden City passed them by, Brynleigh stared out the darkened window. Everything she'd learned about Ryker's mother scrolled through Brynleigh's mind. Although Ryker himself had become somewhat of a recluse since the flood, plenty of information was available about Representative Waterborn.

Born almost three centuries ago, Tertia was a direct descendant of the very first fae who'd crossed the Indigo Ocean and settled into what used to be known as the Four Kingdoms. Her great-grandfather, seven times over, was part of the initial council that had abolished the kingdoms' borders and created the Republic of Balance after the High Ladies of Life and Death and their mates Faded.

None of that research had told Brynleigh what Tertia was like as a mother, though. Was she kind, as Isolde had been? Or perhaps Tertia was distant, cruel, and preoccupied. Brynleigh wasn't sure. All she knew for certain was that the Waterborns were made of money .

That begged the question of why Ryker lived in a one-bedroom apartment in the middle of Golden City. Surely, he could afford to reside wherever he chose.

It was a question for another time. Or not. Ryker would be dead in a week. He could bring the answer with him to the grave. Brynleigh should be focusing on asking less questions, not more. She was already confused, and feeding that doubt was unwise.

The view slowly changed as they left the central city behind. Tall, looming glass buildings gave way to short, sprawling homes made of red brick. Shining offices became long one-story malls and individual shops. Packed neighborhoods became rambling estates with pristine gardens and emerald-green lawns.

Ryker sat beside Brynleigh, his quiet presence grounding her as they drew nearer to his childhood home. He didn't try to engage her in conversation, seeming to realize she needed the silence.

Because, of course, he did.

The car slowed as they entered a gated community. Brynleigh's palms slickened.

They drove up a long, paved driveway. Her heart slammed violently against her ribs. It hadn't beat this quickly since before she was Made.

No one had ever brought Brynleigh to meet their parents before. She wasn't a nice girl—even before she'd taken up vigilante killing and revenge plots, she hadn't been sweet. That was her sister's role in life.

This isn't real, she reminded herself for the hundredth time. Remember your boundaries .

But the problem was, it felt real. Far too fucking real.

It felt as if she'd fallen madly in love with Ryker during the Choosing, and now, she was preparing to meet her future in-laws.

Her feelings were wrong, though. She wasn't in love with Ryker. She hated him. After this, she should take up acting. She would excel at it.

A voice crackled over the in-car speaker. "We're pulling up to Waterborn House, sir," said the driver.

"Thank you, Davis. Please proceed into the garage." Ryker lifted his arm, ran his hands down his jeans, and rolled his shoulders. His face hardened almost imperceptibly, and his jaw feathered .

Within seconds, Ryker transformed from a relaxed fae into one who looked ready for a fight.

There he is .

For the first time, Brynleigh saw the warrior fae.

Other people might have been frightened by how quickly he changed, but her? Fear had no place here. Relief ran through her, coating her insides. She'd been beginning to think this part of him didn't exist.

This was the fae who'd murdered her family. It had just taken him longer than expected to rip off the mask.

This was good.

Davis drove into a luxurious garage that resembled an airplane hangar before cutting off the engine. The door closed as the driver exited, leaving them alone.

Ryker turned to Brynleigh, his countenance pinched as he palmed the back of his neck. "Before we go in, there's something I should warn you about."