Rash movements won’t just get us both killed but could jeopardize saving Mother.
Miss Bress stops speaking, but Vili bursts out laughing.
“Veer disappeared with a girl?” he asks.
“Was it the same one he had in his room in his first year?” Odin asks.
My stomach drops. What?
“Answer me,” he roars, making the people surrounding him jolt.
“They slept together in their first year, and I heard Veer has liked her ever since. She likes him, too, even though she’s afraid to admit it.”
The girl’s words run into a mass of undecipherable syllables. I don’t hear the rest of her ramblings because her words become muffled by a possessive rage.
She’s with that long-haired guitar boy?
She’s been with him since their first year?
“Where did they go?” Odin’s fury takes solid form, like an iceberg on the verge of splintering. He shoots his brother a cold glare, who smooths out his amusement into a mask of disapproval.
“Check every hotel in Marina village,” Vili says.
“I could enquire with the local guesthouses to see if any students have booked rooms,” adds Dr. Xander with a wave of his hand.
Odin nods. “Good.”
My jaw clenches. Time is wasting. They’re not holed up in a bedroom somewhere. Crius has taken Phoenix, and I have to get her back.
Now.
I rise from my seat, attracting Odin’s glower.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
It takes every ounce of self-control not to bristle at his temerity.
“Marina seafront is a romantic spot,” I reply, making sure to sound neutral. “If the young lady and your nephew are having relationship problems as Miss Bress suggests, then a long walk to talk out their differences is more plausible than them booking a hotel.”
If my chest didn’t feel like ravaged carrion, I would sneer at Odin’s sharp nod of dismissal. If I wasn’t already picturing Phoenix crying beneath my sadistic bastard of a father, I would call Odin a hypocrite for setting such a high moral boundary for his nephew while profiting from a known abuser of women.
I stride around the table, ignoring the others’ speculations, and stride out of the door. If either of the Bestlasson brothers follows, I will shoot one first and then the other.
As soon as I round the corner, I break into a run, exiting the building and picking up speed until I reach the car.
I accelerate down the driveway that borders the great lawn, pull the burner phone out of the glove compartment, and call Quinn, who answers in one ring.
“Do you have a lock on the boy?” I ask.
She pauses.
“Quinn?”
“This isn’t what we agreed,” she says, her words crisp. “You were going to wait a few days to stalk the hideout and wait for Crius to arrive.”
“Change of plan,” I say. “They’ve taken an innocent girl, and I need to find the abductors now. Do you have a lock on the boy?”
She hesitates. “Who is she?”