Page 7 of Even Robots Die (Even Ever After #3)

Florentine

“ I suppose you want your father in exchange for waking up my men?” Brice asks me.

Asking is more of a formality. We both know this is the only reason I’m here.

“You suppose right. What did he do anyway?” I ask because I can’t help myself.

“You’ll have to ask him,” is the only answer I get out of the man still holding me prisoner at his side.

He stops walking and forces me to do the same.

“What are you doing?” I ask. I’m wondering if he’s going to make me wake up his men right away, so I harden my gaze. “I’m not healing anyone until my dad is in a car to go home.”

“Your wish is my command,” Brice answers me with a wicked smile.

I hate the fact I like that smile. He’s the guy who took my dad. I shouldn’t find even his smile nice, for fuck’s sake.

He bends to the ground, and for a second I think he’s going to loosen his hold on my hands, but it’s actually the opposite and I’m stuck there next to him as he retrieves the closest guy’s holo.

I knew he didn’t have a holo!

While he’s not looking I mutter, “Milton, track that holo call and map how many holos there are there.”

“On it,” Milton answers me, and I try to look bored when Brice is finally up again.

“Charles, bring the old man out. He’s going back to Paris tonight. And take a few guys with you. The whole team is down.”

I don’t hear what is said on the other side of the holo because he didn’t turn the video on. But I’m not even sure Brice gives whoever answered that call long enough to answer because before I know it, the holo is back on the ground next to the fallen shifter.

“Now what?” I ask.

“Now we wait. Unless you need some material to wake them up?” Brice asks me.

I shake my head.

I just need to jumpstart their hearts, and I know Milton has enough juice for that.

After a minute of silence, I’m already regretting telling him that I don’t need anything to wake them up.

It’s not that I hate silence, it’s more that I’m not used to it.

When you live with five other people—yes, I’m including my dad even if he’s not there all that much—and share a room with one of your sisters, there is never any silence.

Even at night there is always some noise, and with Elodie’s nocturnal terrors, yeah, not much silence at night.

So, no, silence isn’t something I’m used to, and it almost makes me antsy.

It’s like it has its own presence and I can’t avoid it.

I want to let it be because it makes me uncomfortable and at the same time, I also want to acknowledge it just for it to disappear.

But I can’t let that rule my reactions. I need to keep my head in the game.

I’m about to get my dad back. I’ll bring him home and he’ll start his shenanigans again.

“Four holos incoming on your right,” Milton tells me after a little while.

I look in the direction Milton pointed out, and sure enough, there are forms moving.

I can’t really see how many there are, so the light dots on my visor are a good indication.

I’m kinda surprised that Brice didn’t remove any of my gadgets.

But I’m going home in a short while with my dad and I still need to wake up his men, so there’s a chance he didn’t want to remove anything that could be used for that.

He got rid of my gun, after all.

He doesn’t know it, but disarming me completely could take a very long time.

My whole body is covered in unassuming weapons.

“What happened?” one of the newcomers asks when they get close enough to see the fallen warriors.

“She happened,” Brice answers for the group.

“She did all of this on her own?” one other asks, as if I’m not right under their nose.

“She is right here,” I mumble to myself. I’m pretty sure they all can hear it, though.

When they finally get close enough, I can see that there are four people in addition to dad. Three men and one woman.

I should have known that they would take my dad’s holo. It’s a good thing I wasn’t planning another attack because I’m pretty sure I would have been screwed again.

But that’s not the plan anymore.

The plan is to get the man tied and gagged in the middle of the group out of this situation and then on our way home.

“Where is your jet?” Brice asks me without answering his men’s question.

“Near the castle square, but I need to pick up my bag before leaving,” I tell him.

“What hotel are you staying in?” Brice asks instead.

“Why?” I ask suspiciously .

“So Charles, here,” he answers, pointing at the man on the left of my dad, “can go retrieve your things.”

I don’t want anyone to touch my things, but having someone fetch everything would definitely save me some time, and the sooner I’m in that jet, the sooner I’m away from all this mess.

And that’s all I want now.

I give Charles directions to the hotel—because I didn’t even pay attention to its name when I got my room—and look at Brice.

“Is the gag really necessary?” I ask.

“I was tired of hearing him lie,” he says with a shrug.

It makes me wonder if he could hear mine now.

No.

Surely he would have called me out already. He brought my dad already, so there is no reason to think he caught anything.

He walks me to the square, still with my hands at my back. It would be easier if he would bind them and be done with it.

It would also really help with the fact that my stupid brain likes the feel of his hands on me and is completely forgetting I’m held against my will here.

As we walk, I realize two of the men that came with my dad are carrying two of the fallen warriors each, and it makes me wonder what kind of shifters they are.

Bats aren’t really known for their strength, more for their very keen hearing and eyesight, and for their speed too.

I’m pretty sure that Brice doesn’t lack any strength though with how muscular his arms are.

And believe me, I know. One of them was wrapped around my middle just minutes ago, after all.

We arrive at the square, and the jet is right where I left it.

I stop where we are and force Brice to stop too.

“Release my dad,” I demand.

It’s not lost on me that I’m making demands while myself being tied.

“I’m starting to think you need a gag too,” Brice mutters to himself.

Don’t get mad, Flo, don’t get mad.

They’re letting my dad out of his hand ties and he removes his gag himself.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” He asks me, and I can’t help but wonder if they treated him well.

I didn’t see any sign of torture on him when he arrived in the street, but it was very dark.

Now that we’re in the lit up square, I try to catalog my dad’s state.

He looks tired, but other than that, I can’t see any sign of abuse.

It’s been days and he doesn’t even look like they restricted his meals.

Good.

Only one thing to do and then we’ll be on our way home.

Everything is about to be alright.