“What’s to stop me from outing you right here, right now, in front of everyone?”
Patrick gave him a sardonic smile. “Because, dear boy, no one will believe you. I’m telling you the facts so you’ll know what’s at stake. You have no evidence, and slander against a member of the higher authority without concrete evidence is treason, punishable by death. They won’t open an investigation on accusation alone. You know that as well as I do.” He took a step forward, his eyes glacial. “Do you want me to bring down your entire organization? I can place every single one of your friends in Breed jail and throw away the key. Even if you could get him back, without Keystone, what kind of life could you give a child if you’re living hand to mouth on the streets? You don’t want to mess with me. I will tear your life apart.”
Shepherd retrieved a blade from inside his jacket and stared at Patrick wordlessly.
Patrick’s eyes drifted down to the dagger. “We both know you won’t do anything. Your son will end up in an orphanage, if he’s lucky. It’s your word against mine.”
“I’ll come for him.”
Patrick’s lip curled. “Will you? I have something of yours that’s very… fragile. Accidents happen. If you even think about organizing a mission to steal him away, I won’t hunt you down. No. I’ll hire the most ruthless hitman in the Breed world to hunt down that boy and kill him… right in front of you.”
“You’re using my son to do your dirty work!” Shepherd roared. “You have no right.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a life of servitude,” Patrick said flatly. “The people in power may hire you, but if your operation was exposed for what it really is, do you think they would protect you? What can you give him that I cannot? A toy? And what will that teach him? It’s certainly not love—something we both know you’re incapable of. Love doesn’t make a boy into a man. You’ve crossed a line somewhere and have no business raising a child. Your only stake in this is possession. The boy helps me with my position. His job allows me to know who is being truthful and who is not. I have you to thank for those gifts.”
“You can’t do this,” Shepherd said with less conviction, gripping the handle of his blade so tightly that his joints began to ache. “I’ll kill you.”
“I have eyes and ears everywhere. I’m not someone you wish to trifle with. The Vampires underground are very helpful for the right price, and they informed me that Cristo died by your hand. I’ve placed that little incident in your record. And yes, you have a record. Everyone in Keystone does. I like to collect things. Just imagine what my colleagues would make of a man who killed an official, especially after reviewing your history of violence. You’ll do your son more harm than good, and you can’t protect him if your head is away from your shoulders.”
Shepherd moved fast. He slammed Patrick against the door, pressing the sharp blade to his neck. A rivulet of blood dribbled down his gullet. “You don’t have a damn thing to take me down. Maybe you’ve got yourself a nice little file, but it’s not enough to put me away, or else I’d already be behind bars. But know this: every move you make, I’ll be watching. You make one felonious move, and we’ll be on your ass, because that’s what we do. Remember who I am. I work for Keystone, and that means I don’t play nice. No one is untouchable. One way or another, I’m going to get my kid back. But not before I put a knife through your black heart and cut off your head, you dirty fucking Mage. Cristo begged for his life, but you’re going to beg me to end it.”
Patrick’s lips pressed into a mulish line. He leaned against the blade, pushing Shepherd back until there was distance between them. After taking a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing his neck, he gave Shepherd one final look before leaving. “Now that I know who you are, I know who to teach your son to hate.”
Chapter 28
The charity ball carried on until the wee hours of the morning, and by the time we dragged ourselves home, dawn was approaching, and most everyone went straight to bed. Shepherd headed down to the training room without skipping a beat, and I decided to bake canned biscuits—just in case someone wandered down for breakfast.
No one had.
To keep myself busy, I threw a ton of pasta into a boiling pot of water and spent a long time chopping up peppers, onions, tomatoes, and pepperoni to make a pasta salad. It was one of the few meals I knew how to make and the kind of thing that would keep in the fridge until everyone was ready for lunch.
Afterward, I went upstairs and showered. While changing, I wound up my jewelry box and opened the lid to play the music. Instead of placing my necklace inside, I kept it on and tucked it beneath my shirt. Something was weighing heavily on my mind, and since it was a beautiful day, I decided to leave later, but before dark.
At around three in the afternoon, everyone began trickling into the dining room. Niko helped me set the table, and when Viktor got a look at my culinary masterpiece, he selected an enormous bottle of wine to go with it. I’d even baked garlic bread as an appetizer. Not too shabby for a girl who used to eat cold hot dogs right out of the package.
“You must have a thing for pasta,” Wyatt remarked, taking a seat in his chair. He pinched a black olive from the bowl and tossed it into his mouth.
Blue moseyed into the room, her outfit an afterthought. She had on her trademark feather earrings, but her hair was pulled up in a messy bun, strands hanging loose, and her clothes were baggy and casual. She sat in her seat and yawned. “I think I’m going to let my animal fly for a few hours. I need more rest, and she wants to spread her wings.”
Viktor circled the table, pouring wine into each glass… except for Gem’s. “Take care that you stay on the property.”
“She’s always good about that, but I’m giving her full control today. I want to catch up on some sleep, so I can’t make any promises.”
He filled her glass. “I worry about you.”
“Needlessly.” She motioned for him to stop pouring. “I shouldn’t drink and fly.”
“I drink and run.”
She grinned, a twinkle in her eyes. “Is that so?”
I stared blankly at Wyatt while he loaded up his plate.
“Is Shepherd sleeping?” I asked. “I saw him go upstairs an hour ago.”
Wyatt scratched his whiskery jaw and looked at me with one eye closed. “I ain’t his keeper. If he wants to skip lunch, then more for me.”
Gem reached over the chair between them and pinched his arm. “Meanie.”
“Lay that guilt on someone else. I knocked on his door to invite him down, but he’s busy staring at his phone and ignoring the living. Probably looking at all those sexy pics I sent him last night.”
Gem snorted. “Of what? You making love to your MoonPies? They’re not a basic food group, you know.”
He stood up and reached for the bottle of wine. “Says you.”
“Have you put on weight?”
He glanced down at his belly and gave it a long look. Despite his nerdy inclinations, Wyatt kept himself fit. “Doesn’t matter anyhow. I had to send them all back.”
She gave him an impish grin. “So I won’t find a hidden stash if I dig in the back of your drawers?”
He winked and refilled his glass.
Claude swaggered into the room. Shirtless. “I would say that something smells good, but I don’t smell much of anything except onions.”
Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Man, put something on. This isn’t a casting call for Gladiator. Your chesticles impress no one around here.”
Gem reached out, and Claude leaned down to give her a hug.
“How are the injuries healing up?” Blue asked.
He sat down at the other end of the table, across from Niko. “I should be snipping hair in no time.”
“I think someone is milking his vacation time,” Wyatt said to me. “Breakfast in bed, a sponge bath…”
I erupted with laughter. “Who gave him a sponge bath?”
He pointed both thumbs at himself. “Yours truly. Viktor’s orders. I just can’t figure out why it is I can’t offer my services to the opposite sex.”
I gave him a pointed look. “If you ever come into my bathroom with a loofah, I’ll lay you out.”
Everyone dug in, complimenting my food and conversing about the weather and other unimportant matters. Maybe I wasn’t such a bad cook after all, but I certainly didn’t want to make it a habit.
I glanced at Christian’s empty chair to my left but said nothing.
After Viktor finished his plate, he abruptly rose from his seat and tossed his napkin down. “Please excuse me.”
A few moments later, he returned from the kitchen with a round cake pan. A flame lit the top of a short candle, and my brows arched. Breed didn’t celebrate birthdays, so I looked around at everyone for a clue as to what was happening.
Viktor set the cake in front of me and took a seat.
“Uh, what’s this for?”
“I made this yesterday, special for you.”
“Day-old cake,” Wyatt said with an amused look on his face. “You’re special.”