Page 40 of The Inheritance Games

I missed.

From the ledge above me, a hand snaked down and grabbed mine. Jameson smirked as I dangled midair. “You can drop,” he told me, “or I can try to swing you up.”

Do it.I bit back the words. Oren was nowhere to be seen, and the last thing I needed to do, alone with a Hawthorne, was go higher. Instead, I let go of his arm and braced for impact.

After I landed, I stood, watching Jameson work his way back up the wall, muscles tensing against his thin white T-shirt.This is a bad idea, I told myself, my heart thumping.Jameson Winchester Hawthorne is a very bad idea.I hadn’t even realized I remembered his middle name until it popped into my head, a last name, just like his first.Stop looking at him. Stop thinking about him.The next year is going to be complicated enough without… complications.

Feeling suddenly like I was being watched, I turned to the door—and found Grayson staring straight at me. His light eyes were narrowed and focused.

You don’t scare me, Grayson Hawthorne.I forced myself to turn away from him, swallowed, and called up to Jameson. “I’ll see you in the library.”

CHAPTER 32

The library was empty when I stepped through the door at nine fifteen, but it didn’t stay empty for long. Jameson arrived at half past nine, and Grayson let himself in at nine thirty-one.

“What are we doing today?” Grayson asked his brother.

“We?”Jameson shot back.

Grayson meticulously cuffed his sleeves. He’d changed after his workout, donning a stiff collared shirt like armor. “Can’t an older brother spend time with his younger brother and an interloper of dubious intentions without getting the third degree?”

“He doesn’t trust me with you,” I translated.

“I’m such a delicate flower.” Jameson’s tone was light, but his eyes told a different story. “In need of protection and constant supervision.”

Grayson was undaunted by sarcasm. “So it would seem.” He smiled, the expression razor sharp. “What are we doing today?” he repeated.

I had no idea what it was about his voice that made him so impossible to ignore.

“Heiress and I,” Jameson replied pointedly, “are following a hunch, doubtlessly wasting sinful amounts of time on what I’m sure you would consider to be nonsensical flapdoodle.”

Grayson frowned. “I don’t talk like that.”

Jameson let the arch of an eyebrow speak for itself.

Grayson narrowed his eyes. “And what hunch are the two of you following?”

When it became clear that Jameson wasn’t going to answer, I did—not because I owed Grayson Hawthorne a single damn thing. Because part of any winning strategy, long-term, was knowing when to play to your opponent’s expectations and when to subvert them. Grayson Hawthorne expected nothing from me.Nothing good.

“We think your grandfather’s letter to Jameson included a clue about what he was thinking.”

“What he was thinking,” Grayson repeated, sharp eyes making a casual study of my features, “and why he left everything toyou.”

Jameson leaned back against the doorframe. “It sounds like him, doesn’t it?” he asked Grayson. “One last game?”

I could hear in Jameson’s tone that he wanted Grayson to say yes. He wanted his brother’s agreement, or possibly approval. Maybe some part of him wanted for them to do this together. For a split second, I saw a spark ofsomethingin Grayson’s eyes, too, but it was extinguished so quickly I was left wondering if the light and my mind were playing tricks on me.

“Frankly, Jamie,” Grayson commented, “I’m surprised you still feel you know the old man at all.”

“I am just full of surprises.” Jameson must have caught himself wanting something from Grayson, because the light in his own eyes went out, too. “And you can leave any time, Gray.”

“I think not,” Grayson replied. “Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.” He let those words hang in the air. “Or is it? Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

My eyes darted toward Jameson, who stood eerily, absolutely still.

“He left you the same message,” Jameson said finally, pushing off the doorway and pacing the room. “The same clue.”

“Not a clue,” Grayson countered. “An indication that he wasn’t in his right mind.”