Spell Bound Page 66

I thought of all the times Sean had confided in me about Bryce. He’s so angry, Savannah. Not just at you. At everything and everyone. With me, he just hides it better. But there’s so much anger and resentment. He’s not cut out for legal work and he hates it. He tries so hard to find his place at the Cabal, and then he looks over and sees me breezing through and he loves me, but in a way, he hates me, too.

If Giles and his group wanted a high-level Cabal recruit, one with plenty of frustrated ambition, they wouldn’t have to look any further than Bryce.

“Savannah?”

“I don’t know what Lucas has, if anything. He just asked me to come here and check out your bodyguard’s apartment.”

“You didn’t ask what he had?”

“I’m a junior investigator. Hell, two weeks ago I was just the receptionist. No one tells me anything—”

“But they could.”

Don’t ask me, Bryce. Please don’t ask me.

“You could find out what he’s got, right?” He smiled, struggling to make nice, as painful as it was. “Give your brother a chance to defend himself.”

That was the first time he’d ever acknowledged any relationship. He was playing me. And it hurt. It hurt so much because I wanted it so bad.

“He won’t tell me,” I said. “But whatever it is, we’re still in the early stages of an investigation, and we’re a lot more interested in getting Larsen back than punishing his kidnapper. If he was just, you know, returned, that would be the end of it. Lucas would stop investigating and we’d turn our attention back to this group and forget all about the kidnapping.”

Any doubts about his involvement vanished when I saw the look in his eyes. It wasn’t the look of a guy who’d inherited our grandfather’s merciless brutality or even our father’s ruthlessness. It was the look of a kid who’d gotten in way over his head, trying to be something he wasn’t, something he thought others expected. It was a look of terror and regret and a desperate plea for help. And it vanished in a blink.

“Are you suggesting I did have something to do with this?”

“Of course not,” I said. “I’m just saying . . . you know . . . if anyone else here knows who did it, even if he wasn’t involved, maybe he could pass along a message.”

I shot a not-so-discreet look at Salas. Bryce studied me, and in that unexpectedly piercing look, I saw a flash of our father.

“It’s not too late,” I said. “This can be fixed.”

Hope flickered in his face, but it didn’t last. He’d made a mistake and he wanted an exit strategy, but he didn’t trust me to provide one. He didn’t believe it was that easy to fix this. He could tell I didn’t believe it either.

“I’m not going to complain to the Cabal about this break-in,” he said. “But I’d ask you to pass along a message to Lucas. Now that he’s working for his father, he can’t do things like this and claim impartiality. He should think very, very hard before he decides to investigate a member of another Cabal family.” He looked at Salas. “Let’s go. I’m sure Savannah will lock up when she leaves.”

He was going to run. I could tell by the way his hands trembled as he fussed with his jacket. He was going to run, and he was testing to see if I’d let him leave.

If I thought he was guilty and I thought he was going to bolt, then I should stop him. Had it been anyone else, I would have. I wanted to. But I just stood there, dumbly, watching him.

He made it as far as the door, then looked back. “Savannah . . .”

“I can fix it,” I said. “I really can.”

A wistful smile. A lost little boy smile. Then he hitched up his jacket and said, “There’s nothing to fix,” and opened the door.

He took one step and bumped into Cassandra. She stared up at Bryce, then over at Salas, then at me.

“Everything’s fine,” I said.

Salas closed the door and their footsteps echoed down the hall.

“Good thing I decided to check up on you,” she said. “They didn’t come through the parking lot. I believe I suggested that wasn’t the best place for me.”

“I know. I was wrong.”

“Yes, well, if everything’s fine, then—” She peered at me. “It’s not fine, is it? What happened?”

“It’s Bryce,” I said. “He took Larsen and the Dahls.”

“What? Did you find—?”

“Nothing,” I said. “I didn’t find anything and he didn’t say anything, but I could tell. He was behind the kidnapping, and I can’t let him leave or he’ll run.”

I reached for the door handle, but it was like moving in slow motion, the door a million miles away, the knob refusing to turn.

Cassandra grasped my hand. “They’re gone, Savannah. And even if they aren’t, you can’t stop him. We can’t stop him. Not with that brute of a bodyguard. And not when you don’t have proof. Call Lucas and tell him what happened. If Bryce is innocent, then he’ll head back to the Cabal and this can all be sorted. And if he runs . . . ?” Her hand wrapped around my arm. “Then he runs, and you did the best you could.”

But, I hadn’t. And we both knew it.

 

 

thirty

I told Lucas my suspicions. He didn’t ask why I’d let Bryce go, just told me to get out of the apartment and he’d meet up with me later.

“You can hang up now,” Cassandra said. “I believe Lucas disconnected at least a minute ago.”

“Oh, right. I was just—”

“In need of tea. And fresh air.”

“What?”

She put a hand against my back and propelled me to the door. “I noticed a park nearby and I’m sure there’s a coffee shop on the corner. There always is out here. A tea. A park bench. A story. That’s what you need.”

“A story?”

“About this Giles man. You do want to hear about him, don’t you?”

“In other words, I look like I need a distraction.”

“Desperately.”

She opened the apartment door and ushered me out.

 

 

I’m a coffee drinker. Tea is much too sedate for me, unless I’m stressed out, and Paige decides “sedate” is exactly what the doctor ordered. I’m sure Cassandra has been around when Paige has made me tea, and as usual, she’d been paying attention. She bought me a chamomile tea and a slice of lemon coffee cake, settled me on a secluded park bench, and gave me a story.

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