I watched Michael, less than five feet away, open the rear driver’s side door of his G-class and toss a duffle bag in, slamming the door closed when he was done.
I tightened my fists, my arms suddenly feeling weak. What the hell was I doing? I shouldn’t be doing this. I’d either get in trouble or embarrassed.
“Michael?” I heard Will’s voice call. “It’ll be a long night. Did you see anyone you liked?”
“Maybe,” I heard him respond in a deep voice.
And then I heard another voice laugh softly. I thought it was Kai. “Dude, I dare you,” he challenged like he knew something. “She’s beautiful, but I’d wait until she’s legal.”
“I’ll try,” I heard Michael say. “A year did her a lot of good, too. She’s getting harder not to notice.”
“Who are you guys talking about?” Damon cut in.
“No one,” Michael snapped, sounding suddenly short.
I shook my head, brushing off their words. I needed to get out of sight before anyone saw me.
“Get everyone in the cars,” Michael ordered.
My chest rose and fell faster, and I sucked in a deep breath and squeezed the handle on the truck, hearing it click open as I pulled on it.
With a quick glance to the guys again and my ears on alert, I opened the door and quickly dived inside, pulling the door closed and hoping they didn’t notice in the madness of everyone loading into other cars.
I shouldn’t be doing this.
Sure, I’d paid attention to them over the years. Absorbed their conversations and mannerisms, noticing things that other didn’t, but I’d never followed them.
Was this stage one or stage two of stalking? Oh, Jesus. I rolled my eyes, not even wanting to think about it.
“Let’s go!” Kai shouted, and car doors started slamming shut.
“See you there!” I heard Will call out.
The car under me shook, and I widened my eyes as people climbed into Michael’s car.
And then, one by one, all four doors slammed shut, the silent cabin now filled with the laughter and banter of several male voices.
The SUV roared to life, vibrating under me, and I rolled onto my back, letting my head rest on the floor, not sure if I should feel good that I hadn’t gotten caught or sick that I had no idea what I’d gotten myself into.
Present
“THIS WAY, MISS FANE.” The man smiled and took a set of keys, leading me toward some elevators. “I’m Ford Patterson, one of the managers.”
He held out his hand, and I shook it.
“Nice to meet you,” I replied.
I looked around the lobby of my new apartment building, Delcour, as we walked. It was a twenty-two-story skyscraper in Meridian City, built to house apartments and penthouses, and even though it wasn’t nearly as tall as some of the buildings surrounding it, it still stood out. Entirely black with gold fixtures on the outside, it was a work of art, and the interior was just as lavish. I couldn’t believe I was living here.
“You’re all the way up on the twenty-first floor,” he explained, stopping us at the elevator and pushing the button, “which has an amazing view. You’ll be pleased.”
I gripped the strap of my bag over my chest, barely able to wait. Nothing sounded so good as to wake up in the morning and gaze over the vast city, a horizon of buildings that touched the sky and millions of people working and living.
While some felt lost in large cities—the lights, noise, and action too much—I couldn’t contain the thrill of being part of something bigger. The energy excited me.
I checked my phone again, making sure I hadn’t missed a call from my mother. I was still worried about her. And kind of worried about me, too, even though I didn’t let it stop me from leaving Thunder Bay this morning.
After Mr. Ferguson had left my house last night, having found nothing inside or around the premises, I’d crawled into bed with my mom and stared at the note that had been left in the box with the dagger.
Beware the fury of a patient man.
I’d Googled it to find that it was a John Dryden quote, and I knew what it meant. Those
who are patient, plan. And beware the man with a plan.
But a plan for what? And who was that at my house last night in masks? Could it have been the Horsemen? Would they have sent me the dagger?
I woke up this morning, ignored a curt message from Trevor who was angry with me for leaving the party early, and questioned my mom and Irina, our housekeeper, both of whom knew nothing about the mysterious gift or who’d left it.
The note wasn’t signed, and no one knew how the box got there.
I’d caught the momentary flash of worry that crossed my mother’s face, so I’d hid the note and brushed off the dagger as something Trevor had probably left for me as a surprise. I didn’t want her to be scared for me.
But I definitely was.
Someone had been in my home, right under my mother’s nose.
In the rush to get on the road this morning, I’d slid the slender box, with the dagger, into the car and drove off not knowing why I’d brought it. I should’ve just left it at home.
The soft bell dinged, and I followed Mr. Patterson into the elevator, seeing him press twenty-one. But I narrowed my eyes, noticing that there were no floors higher than that.
“I thought there were twenty-two floors,” I inquired, standing next to him.
“There are.” He nodded assuredly. “But that floor houses only one residence, and he has his own private elevator across the lobby.”
I turned my head forward again, understanding. “I see.”