Demand (Careless Whispers #2)(11)

Inhaling, I walk to the front door, open it, and exit, a motion detector triggering lights that cast the porch in a dim glow. Ignoring the cold night air, I shut myself outside, sit on the top step, and dig my phone from my purse, noting the ten o’clock hour. I tab to Kayden’s phone number, my finger lingering above it, but I remember my vow to only call in an emergency so I don’t hit it. And I quickly rule out a text as distracting and potentially dangerous.

The door opens behind me, and I twist around to find Matteo joining me. “What are you doing out here?”

“I need a few minutes of air.”

“It’s cold.”

“Is it?”

He studies me for several beats and shrugs out of his black leather jacket I don’t remember him wearing, offering it to me. “Kayden will kill me if I let you freeze.”

Kill me. I hate those two words right now, though of course I know they aren’t literal. It’s just . . . oh God. He doesn’t know. I accept the heavy weight of the jacket and manage a soft “Thank you,” hesitating to add, “Matteo . . . I . . . Enzo . . .”

His eyes shut, his chin falling to his chest, a guttural curse sliding from his lips, his reaction chilling me way beyond the cold breeze.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “We tried. . . . Nathan—”

“I know,” he says, looking at me again. “I know.” He scrubs his jaw. “Don’t stay out here long.” He doesn’t wait for a reply, turning away.

“Wait!”

He turns to look at me.

“They told Kayden.”

Understanding fills his eyes. “He’s The Hawk, Ella,” he says, as if that should explain everything. And I never get the chance to ask for more. He enters the castle and shuts the door firmly behind him.

I face forward to stare across the dark expanse of the yard, settling the jacket around my shoulders, and while Matteo might have given it to me, in doing so, he made it clear that Kayden is looking out for me even when he’s not here. He is The Hawk. The protector of his people. I would die for you, he had said to me, but the word die shifts me back to the moment Nathan said, “He’s gone,” and tears prickle in my eyes. He’s gone. He’s gone. Damn it. He’s gone.

My cell phone rings and I glance at the caller ID, hoping it’s Kayden. But it’s the number from Gallo’s business card—and like Kayden, I question his timing. My gaze lifts, scanning the darkness, looking for a way he might be able to see me. But there’s really no way to know, thus no certainty he won’t know I am ignoring him. I decide it’s best to avoid any more of his wrath.

I hit the “answer” button. “Hello.”

“We need to meet,” he says. “Tomorrow morning for coffee. There’s a place in the neighborhood called Caffè del Cinque. Be there at eight. Alone.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Do you want me to take a photo of my badge and text it to you? Or perhaps your temporary visa?” He doesn’t wait for a reply. “You can meet me, and you will.”

“What is this about?”

“You.”

“What does—?”

The line goes dead.

Though I’m certain Kayden has more power than he does, I am afraid that Gallo will deport me, but I don’t think he has anything substantial on me, or he’d be dragging me out of the castle right now. It’s a game. He’s always playing games. I shove my phone back inside my purse and zip it up, glancing around the expansive yard, darkness consuming the walls blocking us from the public. Eerie silence surrounds me, the inky black almost a living creature, and suddenly I feel very exposed out here. I stand up, the leather draping my shoulders heavier than moments before, and hurry to the door.

Once I’m inside I lock the door, rush to Kayden’s private tower, and punch in the security code. The instant the heavy wooden door starts to slide up, I impatiently want to duck under, but Matteo’s jacket is too big and awkward. Forced to wait, I replay Gallo’s words, wondering why he didn’t insist on meeting tonight, since he knows Kayden is gone. Maybe he was baiting me, or us. Maybe he thought I’d panic and go somewhere he could follow? Perhaps to Kayden? Whatever the case, he’s playing head games and it’s working.

The door opens fully, a pool of light pouring in from the hall, and I hurry into the private foyer of the tower, pausing to push the button on the wall to shut the door again. And though normally I’d head right up the stairs, and let it close on its own, I’m antsy enough to watch it slide shut and know that I’m alone, considering Kayden guards our entry code like gold. Hurrying up the winding stone staircase, I reach the landing and pause, glancing down the hallway toward the bedroom, but the idea of being secluded in that room without Kayden hits all the wrong spots. Instead, I find myself walking straight ahead into the dimly lit living area, where I claim a seat on the couch, two chairs framing me, a big-screen television on the wall in front of me. The gas fireplace glows in the far left corner, warming the room, but it can’t thaw the chill deep in my bones and my soul from the death of Enzo.

Pulling my purse over my head, I set it on the floor by the couch, then lie down and cover myself with the jacket, staring at the high ceiling without seeing it, tormented by the death I’ve lived through tonight and taunted by Gallo’s phone call. I replay the important part of the conversation, honing in on my query about tomorrow’s meeting: “What is this about?” I’d asked.