Keystone (Crossbreed #1)(38)
When I rolled over, Christian was gone.
Chapter 11
The next morning, I slipped out of Christian’s bedroom and took a quick shower before collecting my things. I had a feeling this might be my last day, so I wanted to leave on my terms. The halls with windows were humid and smelled of rain, so I put on my lace-up boots, which were good for treading water.
Keystone had become a temporary reprieve, and I was going to miss its winding halls, grand staircases, majestic rooms, and sumptuous views. It had offered me protection, where I didn’t have to sleep with one eye closed, and the quiet rooms allowed me space to gather my thoughts.
When I reached the lower level, energetic conversation filled the dining room down the hall, but I continued moving toward the front door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Wyatt yanked the green duffel bag out of my hands from behind.
I whirled around. “Wyatt, give me the bag.”
He held it high in a game of keep-away, so I snatched the grey beanie off his head.
“That’s all right, buttercup. I’ve got plenty more where that came from. It’s time for breakfast, so follow me.” Wyatt turned on his heel and headed toward the dining room.
“Give me the bag!” With a flying leap, I hooked my arm around his neck in a death grip.
He choked, running down the hall with me draped over his back. “C-c-c-an’t bree-breathe,” he stammered, gasping for air.
“Drop the bag and I’ll give you oxygen.”
We flew into the dining room, making a dramatic entrance. The chatter ceased as everyone at the table stared at us like frozen statues.
Wyatt heaved the bag across the room and shook me off his back. He gasped, coughing several times before regaining his composure. A lick of embarrassment rattled me when he gave me a cold stare.
He snagged his hat out of my hands and gave it a light shake before sliding it back onto his head, covering most—but not all—of his light-brown hair. “A gentleman can’t even carry a lady’s bag.”
When I moved to retrieve it, he got ahead of me and kicked it next to Viktor’s chair, right before taking his seat with an impish grin on his face.
It felt like the walk of shame, and it infuriated me to think they had the audacity to sit there smiling in a show of mockery. Then again, I wasn’t sure why I expected compassion from a group of bandits. Sneaking out had nothing to do with saving face—I was hoping to avoid getting my memory scrubbed.
Claude rose to his feet, his nose twitching. “What’s wrong, female?”
“I just want my bag.”
Gem stood up as if trying to get a better look. “Where are you going?”
Claude wrapped his arm around my shoulders and led me to the table. “To her chair, that’s where she’s going.”
As we neared the vacant chair, I dug my heels in. “Hold on, wait. Just stop.”
Viktor laced his fingers together in a prayerlike gesture, watching us in rapt silence.
Gem plopped back in her seat and scooped out a spoonful of jelly from a jar, carefully spreading it on a strip of bacon.
The chair to Viktor’s left was vacant.
“Where’s Christian? You didn’t fire him, did you? If so, you made a mistake. He didn’t have anything to do with what happened last night.”
Viktor flipped a linen napkin across his lap, his voice edged with disappointment. “I like to see that kind of camaraderie. It gives me hope.”
“I didn’t say that I liked him, only that I take full blame for everything that happened last night. The way I see it, Darius is now a man short, and that’s one less evil Mage in this world we have to worry about. So keep that in mind while you escort me to the door.”
“Last night I gave you specific instructions. One of which was not to behave impulsively and commit murder. But life does not always go as planned, and we obtained the information we needed. That said, I have spent all evening making arrangements to cover up your mistakes, especially the two men you left behind at the bar.”
“What did you do?”
“The bartender is a loyal supporter of Keystone, and he fabricated a story and told the men that their partner was apprehended by Regulators of the Security Force for attempting to purchase a child on the black market. In order to explain the car’s disappearance, he had to tell them the Regulators confiscated it as evidence.”
“And they believed it? But Darius—”
Viktor rubbed his eye. “Darius will not find out. These men will turn their backs on their friend. To inquire about him or ask questions will put a target on their back as someone who supports child molesters. Everyone knows that the higher authority does not make arrests without sufficient proof, and no one wants to be associated with a pedophile. The last thing these men will want is a Regulator knocking on their door. Should they tell Darius, he will wash his hands of it. A man who breaks the law does not get involved with the law, even where his men are concerned. It calls attention to him.”
“You don’t think he’ll suspect anything?”
“I can promise he is not going to check on a lowly guard arrested for slave trading. This buys us some time.”
Claude gripped my shoulders and forced me into my seat. I stared blank-faced at a plate of sausages, hash browns, and strawberries.