“Now isn’t a good time,” Ragnor replies without a hint of irony.
“I can wait.” Sam’s stance is rigid, making it clear he is not going to leave any time soon.
Nostrils flaring, Ragnor is silent for a moment then flicks his eyes toward Eve. “Let him in,” he spits.
Clapping with glee, Eve reaches out, her arm crackling like static as she pushes it through the barrier. Taking hold of Sam, she tugs him onto our side. It makes his hair stand on end, and he combs his fingers through to smooth it.
“This way,” Ragnor barks.
Sam follows him. Taking in the state of the lawn, his eyes catch on the coffin. I watch him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He clenches his fists at his sides but forces himself to look away from it.
Inside, Ragnor takes us back through the house. In the lounge, he tells Sam to sit down but Sam shakes his head. “No thanks,” he says, positioning himself by the window.
This time, Ragnor does reach for a shirt. Shrugging himself into it, he looks at Eve. “Fetch Kayla and tell Andre to bring us some coffee.” When Eve disappears, he sits down on the couch and rests his forearms on his thighs. “Well, Sam,” he says. “As you’re here, I suppose I should introduce you to your brother.”
39
SAM
On the outside I’m calm but my insides are a mess. I’m doing a better job of holding it together than Nico, though, because he looks like he’s about to puke all over the fancy rug.
He does an okay job of seeming shocked when Ragnor tells him I’m his brother, muttering, “Elena had a son?” with enough conviction that Ragnor jerks him up from his chair and grabs him by the collar.
“You don’t speak her name, do you understand?” he spits.
Nico nods, his hands shaking.
Watching their interaction, it takes a lot not to dive in and stick up for Nico. Being here, seeing it first-hand, it’s painfully obvious he’s been manipulated by Ragnor his entire life. Working inSpinedid a lot of things to me, but at least it didn’t make me feel worthless. In a strange way, I felt valued. My body, what I did, they were important.
Nico, however, has been made to believe he has nothing of value to offer anyone. Nova told me he’s famous. When she said the name—Nico Varlac—it rang a bell. I think he visited the club once or twice, although I hope he didn’t ever frequent the wolf dance because that would be too fucking creepy.
He doesn’t seem like a famous person here, though. He seems like a scared kid. A kid who’s desperate for his father’s approval and has finally realized he’s not ever going to get it.
Nico is nodding, still in Ragnor’s grasp, when the door clatters open. A tall, short-haired woman strides in. She’s very clearly Nico’s mother. Kayla? Was that her name?
Tugging him away from our father, Kayla doesn’t seem concerned or upset. She doesn’t check him over or ask if he’s okay, but she does stare daggers at Ragnor. It takes her a moment to register I’m in the room. When she sees me, her eyes widen. She looks at Nico and claps a hand over her mouth.
“They look so alike, don’t they?” The witch—who must be the one called Eve—stands between us. A grin stretches her thin lips. “How lovely for them to be reunited at a time like this.”
“How did you find me?” Ragnor cuts in, repeating the question I still haven’t answered.
“You remember a woman called Sarah?” I don’t look away from Ragnor’s face.
“I remember her,” he replies.
“She tracked me down. Told me your name.”
“That doesn’t explain how you found us here,” Kayla interjects. She’s got a nasty scar on her face. Jagged and purple.
“When Sarah found me, I was working at a clubin Red Rock. I asked around about you.” I jerk my head to Ragnor. “A wolf FHB dealer said you’d cleared out after a fire at your hotel. Said he could tell me where you were if I could pay.”
Ragnor’s eyes snap toward Eve. “I told you not to let that weasel come here,” he spits.
Eve doesn’t apologize, just shrugs and says, “If I hadn’t, they wouldn’t have found each other. It’s perfect.” She hums and hugs her waist. “Utterly perfect.” She moves closer to me and runs her hand up my arm. “He’ll be here to greet his mother when she returns.”
Nausea bites at my throat. Pretending I don’t know what the hell Eve’s talking about, I say, “My mother is dead.”
“Yes,” Ragnor replies. “She is, but not for much longer.”