8
Rowan
I narrowedmy eyes at the kid. Something about his appearance had heightened my instincts. I kept my attention on him, my gaze skimming over him carefully.
There was no way of telling if his story was true. We’d never met the Storm, so I couldn’t check for family resemblances. Why would the son of the man we’d been fighting against want to talk tous?
Beckett opened his mouth to go on, but Wylder raised a hand to stop him. The Noble heir looked around as if he expected his dad to appear around the corner any second. If Ezra did find out who’d supposedly walked into our midst, I could only imagine the scene he’d make. The kid would be lucky to live a minute longer.
“Not here,” Wylder said gruffly.
Beckett frowned. “What’s wrong?” The kid looked spooked, as if he was expecting somebody to charge him from the door. I was still having a hard time wrapping my head around the idea that the Storm had children—or any family really.
But I guessed he was a person like the rest of us—like the Long Night, who might have had kids and even grandkids for all we knew—no matter how much power he held.
“Let’s take this to the back sitting room,” Anthea said briskly, and I was immediately grateful. Both Wylder’s office and Gideon’s would hold too much information relating to our plans. The back sitting room had a door that locked, but it was small enough that no one used it for anything official often.
Wylder nodded and motioned for Beckett to head out of the kitchen ahead of him. The Noble men started to follow us, but Wylder shook his head at them. “I’ll handle him.”
I half expected them to argue, but apparently the Noble heir was making strides in winning over his father’s men. They stepped back with respectful dips of their heads. It probably helped that Axel wasn’t around anymore, spewing his venom.
In the hall, Wylder took the lead, Kaige and I falling into step on either side of the kid and Mercy, Gideon, and Anthea bringing up the rear. He wouldn’t be able to get away with much. We tramped into the cozy space with its antique sofa and chairs set and heavy velvet curtains, which Wylder jerked shut over the window. I locked the door behind us.
Wylder gestured to me. “Rowan, pat him down.”
Beckett’s eyes twitched even more nervously as I stepped toward him, but I kept my expression mild. “Stand with your legs a foot apart and your arms raised,” I instructed, and he moved right away.
I briskly checked him over, paying particular attention to obvious pockets and typical places to conceal a holster. When I turned up nothing, I backed up and crossed my arms over my chest, considering him. “It was a big risk coming in here totally unarmed.”
The kid shrugged, but the flick of his tongue over his lips showed he wasn’t really all that nonchalant. “Would you have trusted me otherwise?”
“We still don’t,” I had to point out.
“Well, I was hoping to talk, not get into a fight. I’m counting on you wanting information about my father more than you want to shoot up some teenager who’s put himself at your mercy.”
Wylder pointed Beckett to a chair. He sat down, taking a quick swipe at his forehead, where sweat was starting to shine. Anthea pulled out a water bottle from a mini fridge and handed it to him.
Beckett eyed it suspiciously before snatching it from her hand. I raised an eyebrow at her as she walked toward me. Anthea shook her head to indicate that she hadn’t put anything in it, as adept as she was with chemical effects. I guessed a kind overture couldn’t hurt anything.
Wylder dropped into a chair across from the kid. “So, you’re really the Storm’s son?”
“That’s what I said, didn’t I?” Beckett replied.
“Are you having second thoughts about coming here?” Wylder asked.
Beckett froze, his jaw tightening before he seemed to come to a decision. “No, but I’ll admit I’m still not sure this wasn’t a stupid idea. I just… I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You said you have some information about the Storm,” I put in. “How can we know whether you’re actually who you say you are and whether you’re telling the truth rather than trying to throw us off?”
The kid gave me a look that seemed to imply I was being an idiot. For all his nerves, he had a lot of bravado too. That did line up with him being a child of privilege. I could tell his clothes were custom tailored and good materials too.
“I don’t know how I could prove it to you,” he said, a little haughtily, “since you don’t know enough about who my father is to recognize whether I’m telling you something only his son would be aware of. But the fact that I came here at all should show that I’m puttingmytrust in you. And if you use the information I can give you, then you’ll see pretty quickly that I’m being honest.”
“Your father has been making things very difficult for us,” Mercy said. “His people have hurt this county way more than anyone else in the entire time I’ve been alive. That doesn’t exactly make us want to welcome anyone associated with him.”
Beckett’s mouth twisted. “I can believe it. And if I had any say in it, he and his shadow would be far away from here. Things were bad enough before—” He cut himself off with a sharp breath. “I want the war here to be over too. That’s why I came, and why I’ll help you.”
“Where did you say you’re from again?” Gideon prompted, obviously trying to prod him for more details about the Storm that he might not have meant to give away.