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Gritting my teeth, I awkwardly push myself to my feet.
“Tell me what you want,” I command with more confidence than I feel. The man with the knife stands and I should fear him, but in this moment I don’t because he said it himself, he can’t hurt me. He narrows his eyes, stalking forward, but he stops before he’s closed the space, his eyes catching on something at my back.
“Ah, good to see you again, Mr Brody,” a familiar voice says seconds before Eugene Campbell steps in front of me.
“You. What do you want? And where is Kiernan?”
He doesn’t answer, just waves a hand at the trees. Three people emerge through the thicket, my words catching in my throat when I lay eyes on my best friend.
Kiernan has his hands tied in front of him, blood on his lip and a swollen eye. He's limping, wincing as a large blond man leads him by the arm. I recognise him as one of the men who came into the bakery with Eugene. The other man is short, with long black hair and a beard. He’s holding a pile of papers in one hand and a knife in the other.
“Why are you doing this? Let Kiernan go.”
“You have something I want and I have tried all the civilised ways to get it. My offer was more than generous and when that didn’t work, I had to get creative.”
My heart beats rapidly, thumping in two parts of my chest.
Find me, Sterling. Please find me.
“All of this for a piece of land?”
Eugene rolls his eyes. “Stupid boy. I don’t give a fuck about the land. It’s what’s in the land I care about.”
He gestures to the man with the papers, opening his hand to accept the documents. The man then circles behind us and removes the ropes from my wrists, freeing my hands. Eugene holds the papers out to me.
“If you sign this, I will let you and your friend go. It doesn’t have to get messy. And you have my word you will remain unharmed.”
“Don’t do it, Cass,” Kiernan cries.
Eugene smiles, but it’s not kind. It’s dangerous, the type of smile seen in nightmares. He rubs the glass bottle hanging from the chain around his neck between two fingers.
“Hit him,” he commands, and the man holding Kiernan tightens his hold with one hand while pressing the palm of his other hand to his eye, a gut-wrenching groan passing his lips.
“No. No,” he mutters, dropping his hand from his face. Something crosses his expression – a mix of pain and regret before he brings his fist back and delivers a blow to Kiernan’s stomach. Kee cries out, doubling over. I dash towards my friend, not making it close enough to touch him before I’m dragged backwards. Eugene presses a knife to my throat, the edge of it nicking my skin.
“Okay. Okay. Please don’t hurt him again.” I need to stall and buy myself time. Sterling is coming, I can feel it. “Tell me why you want my land, and then I’ll sign the papers. Tell me what was so important that you burned down my house.”
He tuts, rancid breath brushing my cheek, and I try to focus on his words and not the feel of it on my skin. “It didn’t have to be this way. I offered your grandfather money and then I offered it to you.” He adjusts his stance, and the knife digs deeper into my flesh, making me wince. “It was your father who gave me the idea – not intentionally – but nonetheless it was his idea. He had no faith in you, Caspian. He was certain you’d crumble under all the responsibility. I thought if I could make you see he was right, you’d sell in a heartbeat. But sending my men to damage your property and even having my monster scare you didn’t work. So, I ordered the place to burn. You were meant to be inside when the fire started. The same way you were meant to die in that storm.”
All the blood rushes from my head, my vision going hazy. There’s a tightness in my chest squeezing my lungs, making each word come out as broken as the heart shattering in my chest.
“How did you…you… killed… Pops?”
“He was just as stubborn as you. Too hung up on his legacy and keeping that land in the Brody name. It cost him his life. Don’t let it cost you yours.”
THIRTY-FOUR
STERLING
The broken lock on the back door is the first sign that something is wrong. The angry twisting in my chest is the second.
“Caspian!” I storm into the bakery, hastily checking the pantry, the washroom, and the front of the store. Finding it empty, I head back outside and to the parking area where both Kiernan and Caspian’s cars are parked. “Caspian!” I shout his name as I search the treelined verge before running back into the bakery.
Think, Sterling. Calm down and think.
Hands on the counter, I close my eyes and call forward a partial shift. My ears and claws extending, my canines pressing past my lips. With my senses heightened, I sniff the air. Caspian’s scent is strong in here – it always is because of the amount of time he spends at the bakery, but that’s not what I’m looking for. Nose pointed to the sky, I breathe in. Kiernan was here, his apple and cinnamon scent familiar to me.
There. Under the sweet is something bitter. Evil and rotten. Not quite the same scent as the one I’ve noticed before, but enough, as though whoever was in here has rubbed against it and let it taint him.
