Page 50

Maddox

Mindy’s mom whisks her away, leaving me with Percival. This definitely isn’t what I had in mind.

“We decided against a hunt today.” Percival turns towards one of a dozen hallways that attach to the front foyer. “It’s usually a pre-wedding tradition around here. But my father was feeling a little under the weather.”

Small blessings. Because if rumors are true, the Linckesters don’t only hunt animals out here. His father is right around Ethan’s age, but not in half the shape Ethan is in.

“The family is gathered at the gun range.”

Because it’s totally normal for people to have a gun range in their home. Though, to be fair, it kind of makes sense when you’re a weapons manufacturer for the government. The security in the building is subtle but top-notch. There’s definitely a monitoring station somewhere, but I doubt it was either of the guard shacks we saw.

Why am I walking through and planning how to break their system?

Because Percival Linckester might be a little odd, but his father brings weird to a whole new level. Filmore Linckester personifies the word eccentric. Legends were built on that man. More like horror stories.

Dealing in death for generations will do that to a family. Who wakes up one morning and thinks about an efficient way to kill more people? But that’s their job.

They supply the government and select others with weapons and armaments. His stuff always exceeds expectations.

We head down a spiral staircase.

“How has Ethan been?”

Better since he hasn’t had to deal with you. “Married life suits him.”

“Interesting. He always was the best killer. If he hadn’t started that company of his, we were planning on hiring him.”

Is that a royal ‘we’, or does Filmore still pull the strings? I wouldn’t put it past him to try, even from the grave.

Another thick metal door stands open. Male voices float out of it along with the scent of cigars. Good cigars. Ethan taught me the difference. Not that I like smoking, but if I must, at least the good cigars aren’t terrible.

That must be the shooting range.

Most shooting ranges are a mixture of cement and granulated rubber. This one is steel, bulletproof glass, and ballistic rubber. But the thing that gets me is all the animals stuffed or spread across the floor. It’s a menagerie of death.

Do they stuff the people they kill, too?

The space is large enough that the fifty or so men lounging around hardly fill it. A gun range built for entertainment.

“Do you need any introductions, Locke?” Percival stops by the bar.

“No, I know most of the family.”

“I’d expect nothing less of a man like you. My gun locker is at your disposal. Do have fun.” He wanders away, grabbing a cigar on the way from a scantily dressed woman and a drink from another.

Not wanting to socialize with senators and generals, I take a drink and walk over to a wall of pictures.

It’s filled with kill shots of all the animals gracing the floors and walls. Most of them are of Filmore and his sons, but a few feature his grandsons, all of whom run the family businesses now.

“Enjoying the view,” a familiar voice says from my side.

“Valen. I almost forgot that you were related to this bunch.”

“I try to on a regular basis. But I couldn’t miss my uncle’s wedding.”

Mandatory attendance sounds about right for this family.

“What forced you here?”

“My girlfriend’s mom is marrying Percival.” Which means when we’re married, I’ll have ties to the Linckesters.

“Are you sure you still want to date her after this? I wouldn’t bring the woman I’m seeing within a mile of my family.” Valen points to a picture. “This cousin especially.”

WHAT? It’s hard to hold in the shock flowing through me. “You’re related to Plant?”

“You know him?”

How could I not? But I need a reason to. “My girlfriend works at the police station.”

“Ahh. Don’t believe the nice guy smile. He’s warped. His whole family is,” Valen whispers. “Tell your girlfriend to walk the other way when she sees him.”

Does Valen know? Or is this just family talk?

“Is all your family that special?”

“Other than a couple of my great aunts…basically. Oh, there’s a second cousin who’s pretty nice. She’s an art dealer. Used to go by Moonbeam or something weird like that. But she married into the family and isn’t actually blood related.”

Could Plant be working with other family members? I start sifting through the images and memorizing them.

But to not look obvious, I have to keep up the small talk. “How did a Moonbeam get accepted into the family?”

“There’s only one real requirement for entry. You need to be beautiful. And she is. It’s hard to find a natural blonde anymore, let alone one who’s platinum blonde almost to the point that her hair looks white with curves in all the right places. She could have been a cheerleader at some point.” Valen seems game to provide me with cover.

“Is that a great white?” With the wall as large as it is, there are quite a few faces I don’t know sprinkled in, but I’m about to.

“Yeah. You can’t just hook that and reel it in. They needed a full winch. It actually tasted fairly good. Unlike the electric eels. Those weren’t good at all.”

“Eels are better than grubs.” Those were nasty. I keep strolling slowly.

“Almost anything is better than grubs. Except maybe brains.” Valen nods towards an image of a bear.

I freeze. What’s the pretty boy doing on the wall? “Have you tried one hundred-year-old eggs?”

“They’re almost as bad as Balut.”

“What are you boys over there talking about?” Percival and his group of brothers walk over towards us.

“Balut and other nasty things we’ve eaten.” Valen smiles before lifting his glass to his lips.

“Ahh, one of Father’s challenges. Speaking of challenges, rumor is you’re one of the best marksmen.” Percival lifts an eyebrow at me in challenge.

“You know how rumors are.” I don’t really want to show them how well Ethan trained us.

“One of Ethan’s boys, I doubt they’re overestimated. Come show us. You can play with one of Joseph’s newest creations. It’s armor-piercing.”

Why are rounds like that even created? In the wrong hands, they can do some real damage to the police. “Sounds like fun.”

***

That was four hours of my life that I’m never getting back.

At least they dropped me off in my suite. Otherwise, I might never have found it.

I head right for the shower. It seems a few of Valen’s cousins don’t know how to drink responsibly. One managed to spill an entire drink on me.

***

Linckester has good taste in showers. I wrap a towel around me and head out to find my clothes. Someone probably unpacked them already.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Mindy shouts.

“Huh?” I grab for my towel before it falls off.