For a moment, I tried to picture it: Having the baby in a foreign country, surrounded by strangers paid to be there. Endless resources, endless security—and none of the people I loved. They would probably never know what had happened to me.
“And if I say no?”
Beside me, Roland made his first noise of the car trip: a quiet scoff. Aldric leaned forward, looking incredulous. “If you should make that mistake, the Wild Hunt will ride tonight, as planned, and many, many people will die. No humans will be harmed, so Mr. Cruz may survive, but consider the many who will be lost. Our world will see Los Angeles fall, its leadership crumble.”
I had to clench my teeth to keep from screaming at him. “Then you will still come back to France with me,” he went on, “and spend the next, what, eight months as a prisoner. After the baby is born . . . well, an uncooperative prisoner is of no use to me.” He gazed at me with a look of pleasant inquiry.
“I see.” Despite my best efforts, my voice came out shaky, goddammit. I took the time for a couple of deep breaths, forcing my fists to unclench. Finally, I said, “You’re not leaving me much of a choice here.”
His smile was almost sympathetic. “I understand, of course, that you may be inclined to lie now and promise cooperation you don’t intend. That’s what Roland, and some of my other employees, are predicting. But I have faith in your ability to do the right thing for your child.” He held up my cell phone. “So I’ll make this very easy. Call Mrs. Hayne and Mr. Carling. Hell, call Mr. Cruz. Tell them you’re with us now, and I’ll drive you straight to the airport. Give them any hint that it’s involuntary and we’ll go with plan B. You will spend this evening on our airplane, locked up in the cargo hold where you will be safe and out of the way, while the Wild Hunt decimates this ghastly mess of a town.”
I looked at the phone in his hand for a long moment. I didn’t have to fake the tears that began to spill down my cheeks. This was just ridiculous. How could this old man with his fancy car and absurd accent get to have power over me? He was batty as fuck.
I won’t say that I made a choice, because I never really had one. I took the phone, looked Aldric straight in the eye, and said, “You’ve got a deal. But I want to make the hardest call first, and that’s Jesse.”
Aldric nodded, waving his hand and relaxing back into his seat. I dialed the phone. Roland didn’t appear to have moved, but something about his body language suddenly screamed on alert.
Jesse answered on the first ring, traffic sounds in the background. “Oh my God, Scar, where are you? I’ve been—”
I tried to make my voice sound as calm as possible as I cut him off. I was not going to cry on the phone, goddammit. Aldric wouldn’t get that out of me. “Jesse . . . listen . . .”
He heard my tone and went dead silent. “I love you,” I said simply. “I’m sorry it took so long to . . . but I love you.”
Aldric’s eyes narrowed, but he wasn’t sure where I was going with this yet. I held my hand up to signal that everything was fine, that I was getting to it.
And then I leaned as far toward the window as I could and said into the phone, “I’m in a long black Mercedes on the corner of Seventh and Pacific—”
For an old man, Aldric could move fast. He ripped the phone out of my hand and slapped me across the face. I lunged across the seat after him, but Roland was instantly on top of me, slamming me back against the seat and fastening my seat belt to keep me in position. He had a nasty, smug look on his Aryan poster-boy face, but at least he didn’t say “I told you so” to Aldric. He was smarter than that, anyway.
Aldric, for his part, composed himself, gestured to the driver to roll down his window, and tossed my phone out of the car. By craning my head, I was just able to see my last link to Jesse and the rest of my life explode against the pavement. “That was a poor choice, Miss Bernard,” Aldric said. “I hope you won’t regret it when your friends’ and colleagues’ heads are rolling in the streets this evening.” He made a sad clucking noise. “And I tried to help you.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You tried to subjugate me. It’s not the same thing, you dumbass third-rate Bond villain.” I shook my head. “Jesus, you idiots have been watching me all this time, and you’ve learned nothing about me. But I’ve learned about you. I know you’re scared.”
Aldric glowered. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” I mimicked his tone. “You believe I can stop you tonight. And you think Dashiell and the others, our whole way of life, is a threat to your plan. So you kidnap me and try to dress it up as a decision I get to make. I call bullshit, you sanctimonious piece of sister-fucking Eurotrash garbage. Fuck you and the horse you think you’re going to ride on tonight. I will crush you.”
For one second, something like fear flickered in Aldric’s eyes, and then he chuckled. “Oh, Miss Bernard. I think I’m really going to enjoy the process of breaking you.”
His voice was chilling. I opened my mouth to deliver what I’m sure was a scathing rebuttal, but none of us ever got to find out what I was going to say, because at that moment a certain red Lexus T-boned the Mercedes and knocked us off the road.
Chapter 39
Jesse had lucked out with the cops who came to interview him: they were from the Northeast division of the LAPD, far away from his own former precinct, and if they recognized him from his book, they didn’t mention anything. It helped that the story was simple and short: he had arrived to meet his brother, but Noah was already lying there, beaten up. That was it. They told him they’d be investigating the attack, but said in all frankness they didn’t have a lot of hope unless witnesses came forward, they found the car, or Noah woke up and identified his attackers. Jesse told them he understood, and they promised to be in touch.
The rest of his morning was occupied by a flurry of doctors’ updates, nurses’ updates, pacing the waiting room, and talking on the phone to his parents. By the time they arrived around noon, Noah was out of surgery and in intensive care.
Jesse’s mom, Carmen, came rushing into the hospital room first, her makeup running down her face. She was a short, solid woman with glossy dark hair that was graying at the temples. She was wearing a green velvet dress for the wedding, but she’d swapped whatever shoes she’d had on for Keds. “Mijo,” she cried out, throwing her arms around Jesse. “What happened?”
“Hi, Mom.” Jesse bent down to accept the hug. “Is Dad parking the car?”
“I’m here,” said Robert Astin, puffing his way into the room. Jesse’s parents had made a deal before their sons were born that both boys would take Carmen’s last name, and Robert had chosen their first names. He was a few years older than his wife, medium height, with silvering blond hair and warm blue eyes. “Your mother’s just faster. What’d I miss?”
Jesse stepped aside so they could see Noah in the bed. His brother was nearly unrecognizable, his face swollen and bruised, and most of his exposed skin seemed to be hooked up to machines. Jesse had spent a lot of time in hospitals, but he only recognized half of them.
Carmen cried out, and the two of them rushed to Noah’s side. Jesse gave them the same story he’d told the police. “Where is the doctor?” Jesse’s mother asked anxiously. “I have so many questions.”
Jesse checked his watch. “He should be stopping by again in a couple of minutes,” he said.
Carmen turned her full attention to him. “You look so tired, mijo. Why don’t you go get something to eat? We’ll be here.”
Jesse wasn’t really hungry, but he wanted to check his phone and figure out what was happening with Scarlett. And he wouldn’t mind some non-hospital air. “Yeah . . . okay. I’ll be back in a few.”
Jesse left Noah’s room and headed down the hallway, already pulling out his phone. There was a new voice mail from Scarlett. He was just about to listen when he heard his brother’s name and looked up.
“No, I’m not technically family,” said the woman who’d spoken. She was Indian, a couple of years older than Jesse, pretty and harried-looking with a light British accent. “As I said, however, they’re expecting me.”