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Chapter Seventeen

ISADORA

Thorne released a slow, scandalized whistle as she paced a wide circle around my loft. Much like Lucien had, she paused here and there and clucked under her breath as she assessed the damage.

“What a mess,” she muttered. “You know what pisses me off the most, though? We spent hours cleaning this place. Hours , Isadora. Do you know how long it took me to scrub clean that mysterious stain from the baseboards? And for what? Just so some coward could barge in and trash all our hard work?”

She turned to me, eyes aglow with an unmistakable amber sheen that screamed wolf . “When you find whoever did this, give them to me. I’m not saying I need them for the whole night. But just for like, two minutes. I won’t kill them. Probably. Eh…no promises.”

I raised a brow. Guess Lucien wasn’t the only one feeling a little dramatic.

Honestly, their immediate leap to violence warmed my insides.

I’d only been in Eternity Falls a few days, and already I had two people ready to commit murder on my behalf.

A bit macabre, yes, but also…no one in my old life would have reacted that way.

They would have clutched their pearls, whispered, “ Why I never ,” then spread more gossip from behind their cocktail glasses.

It was nice to have people care about me for once.

“You can have ten minutes alone with them,” I assured her. If there was anything left after Lucien got his hands on them.

“Well…” Thorne surveyed the place again, then dug her phone out of her pocket and started scrolling. “This is above my pay grade. Time to call in the big guns.”

“Big guns?” I echoed, only slightly wary.

“My brothers,” she said grimly.

Exactly how many brothers did she have? But the call connected before I could inquire further.

“Ricky,” she sang into the phone in a tone that absolutely screamed mischief. “How would you feel about committing a crime?”

My eyes bulged.

“Oh, nothing big. Nothing felonious . Just some light intimidation, maybe? I mean, if things get rough, well, we’ve buried bodies before.”

Good Lord. Alarm bells screamed in my head. “Uh, Thorne?”

She waved me off. “Hey! I didn’t do anything, so I resent the implication! This is someone else’s mess. Not mine.”

Mess. Yup—I felt that deep in my bones.

“Well…” she dragged the word out, then plunged in. “Remember the bar I told you about? And the Princess of New Orleans who bought it?” She paused. “Uh-huh. That’s the one. Anyway, she’s apparently got herself a bit of a stalker situation?—”

The alarm bells chimed louder. A stalker ? No. That wasn’t right. Was it? Someone broke in and proceeded to ruin all my belongings. Yikes. That really did sound like the definition of the word stalker. I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself.

“Uh-huh. I figure we hang out around the bar, wait and see if they come back, then”—she studied her fingernails—“scare the ever-loving shit out of them. If it escalates, well…as I said…”

“We’ve buried bodies before …” my mind finished the sentence for her.

“What do you mean what’s in it for you?” she gave a displeased huff. “What about the warm glow of sibling loyalty?” She rolled her eyes, then shot me a glance. “Do you care if your stalker actually bites the dust?”

I stuttered a nonsensical reply.

“See, Rick? She cares . Some people don’t approve of murder. Let’s save that for our next family dinner, ’kay?”

Holy shit. What was I getting myself involved with here?

She heaved a heavy sigh. “ Fine. I’ll owe you. Is that good enough?” She paused. Then, “No.” Pause. “No.” Pause. “No!” Another pause. “Ugh, fine. I accept your stupid terms. How long till you’re here?” A beat passed. “Perfect. See you in ten.”

She ended the call, turned to me, and clapped her hands once. “Reinforcements inbound.”

Reinforcements. Right. Of course.

A nervous flutter tickled the inside of my stomach, and I glanced toward the window.

Rue was still out there.

Lucien had called bright and early this morning to check in, to ensure I was still alive and in one piece, which thankfully, I was.

He’d informed me that Rue would remain on watch until further notice .

When I’d inquired about her basic needs—sleep, bathroom breaks, food, etc.

—he’d assured me in typical Lucien fashion that he had it all well in hand.

Which meant she was still out there. Somewhere. Maybe the Wolfes wouldn’t spot her? I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her since last night. But what if they saw her?

From what I’d gathered from that short but alarmingly distressing phone call, the Wolfes were of the dramatic sort and possessed poor impulse control.

And while I hadn’t understood much about Rue, I did get the sense the Wolfes had a personal graveyard where they dumped the body of anyone who pissed them off.

If they caught wind of Rue, shit would go down. I wanted to avoid any and all murder, if possible. It tended to cause problems with law enforcement—wait, did Eternity Falls even have a police force? I made a mental note to ask about that, then continued processing my situation.

The way I saw it, I had two options.

Option A : Call Lucien and ask him to give Rue the day off. That, however, would require an explanation as to why I suddenly had a second security detail en route.

Or…

Option B : Tell Thorne about Rue.

Now, while that option seemed the simplest, I foresaw questions.

So many questions. Like: Why is Lucien St. Germain’s head of security watching your bar?

And why is Lucien even involved in this?

Those questions would inevitably lead to deeper, more personal questions I wasn’t ready to answer. Or even think about.

I rubbed my face with both hands. I had only a few more minutes before Ricky came charging through the door. I needed a plan—and ideally, a bunker.

Thorne had drifted toward the shredded pile of clothing now sitting on my bed.

She held up a mangled blouse and frowned, then muttered something about me needing a whole new wardrobe.

I didn’t respond because, well, no money.

And no money meant no new clothes. I would just have to make do with what I had.

“So…” I said slowly, choosing my words like I was disarming a bomb. “There’s something you should probably know before your brother gets here.”

“Brothers,” she corrected absently, shaking out a pair of pants. “Yeah, these are toast. Maybe we can repurpose them though?”

Brothers? So more than one was coming?

“It’s about security,” I continued.

“Security?” That got her attention. Her gaze snapped to mine.

I cleared my throat. “So… Lucien may have already assigned someone to watch the bar.” And me. But common sense told me to leave that bit off.

She was quiet while she processed that.

“Lucien?” she repeated, and wow, I’d never heard someone spit a name like it was poison before. The pants slipped from her hands, and she marched over to me, her expression caught somewhere between betrayal and curiosity. “What does that arrogant, soul-sucking turd have to do with any of this?”

Yup. Saw that question coming.

“Well…” I hedged, stalling like my life depended on it. “It’s kind of complicated.”

“Try me,” she said flatly, folding her arms. “And speak in very small, clear words, so that there’s no misunderstanding.”

I sighed and glanced at the window again, as if Rue might suddenly appear and save me from this conversation. She didn’t.

“Okay,” I said. “So, last night, after you dropped me off here, I went upstairs and found all this.”

She hummed a noncommittal response.

“I, uh, may have immediately assumed Lucien was responsible.”

She nodded. “I mean. That tracks.”

“I stormed over to The Crimson Veil and, well, accused him of breaking into my bar and destroying my possessions. I may have made some impolite assumptions.” I paused, struggling to find the right words. “He was…”

“Insufferable?” Thorne offered.

“Livid,” I corrected. “Not at me. At the situation. He was pissed that someone would dare break into my home. He assured me he doesn’t play those types of games.”

She blinked. “Are we talking about the same guy?”

“He said those kinds of games were beneath him. That when he went after someone, they knew it.”

“Hmph,” Thorne muttered. “He does tend to prefer large-scale destruction over petty theatrics. I’ll give him that.”

“Eventually, we came to a sort of truce.” I quickly decided to bypass the dance. Word would spread—I knew it would—but for now, I focused only on the truly important parts. “He walked me back here to check the place out and make sure it was safe. He did his duty, and…”

“And?” she prompted.

I hesitated.

She leaned in. “And, what?”

“He left,” I said, skipping the kiss. “Afterward, he sent Elias over with some blood for me, and Rue to keep watch. She’s still out there right now.”

Thorne narrowed her eyes, planted her hands on her hips, and stared at me. “What did you leave out?”

“Hmm?” I asked, feigning innocence.

“Don’t hmm me. Girl, something stinks about your story. I can smell it a mile away. What did you leave out?”

I puffed up my cheeks, let the breath out through my nose…then blurted, in one single word that barely qualified as English, “Hemayhavekissedme.”

Thorne blinked once. Twice. Then, like a shark scenting blood in the water, she leaned in with a grin that was all fangs.

“Ohhh, we are not skipping over that part.” She made a dramatic rewind gesture with her finger.

“Start from the beginning. What do you mean he may have kissed you? There is no may in kissing. Either his pretentious vampire mouth was on yours or it wasn’t. ”

“Uh, was. It definitely was.”

An evil glint shone in her eyes. “Are you kidding me?”

Oh boy. I couldn’t read her emotions. Was she angry? Murderous? Was I about to join the many bodies she and her brother had discussed burying?

“He kissed you,” she repeated.

“Um…yes?”