Sweet Peril (The Sweet Trilogy #2)(34)

I could make out the crackle and ring through the receiver and Kopano’s features—the worried pinch of his full lips. And then a male voice with an English accent answered, and I froze.

Why was he calling Kaidan?

“Brother Kaidan,” Kope greeted.

“Kope.” He sounded slightly edgy, worried. “Is everyone all right?”

“Yes. Everyone is fine.”

“Then to what do I owe this pleasure?” Kai’s tone changed to something firmer, rougher, lined with sarcasm.

Kopano was quiet and his eyebrows went together as if he was regretting his decision to call. I had no idea what was going on, but I didn’t like it.

“Anna says you will not speak with her.”

I stopped breathing.

“What is your point?” Kai asked.

“My point . . .” Kope paced a few steps and then stopped, putting his palm to his forehead. “She still cares for you. I wish to know how you feel for her.”

“That’s none of your concern.”

I took a jaggedy breath in. This could not be happening.

“I am concerned because she hurts. If you care, you should let her know. And if you do not care you should release her.”

“So you can have a go at her?”

“I will not pursue her if you do not wish me to. But you must tell me.”

“It’s not my permission you need, Kope. Talk to her father.”

“Please, Kaidan. I do not wish to quarrel.”

“Of course you don’t. Tell me: Does she know about you yet?”

Know what about him?

Kope went very still. “No,” he whispered in a low rumble.

“Be careful,” Kaidan warned, no hint of humor.

“I am ever aware, brother. And now I need your honesty. What are your feelings for her?”

My body was motionless but for the bulging heartbeat in my throat. Tell him I’m not available. Tell him you still care—that I’m yours.

Kaidan’s angry chuckle, a breathy, cold sound, gave me goose bumps. And then he finally answered. “I’ve made it clear to her there’s no future for us, mate. So have at it. Best of luck to you.”

And with those last stony words my stomach turned and Kaidan hung up. Kope sighed and dropped his head. I slid to the floor in shock.

No. No, no, no. I wanted to scream and punch and kick and shatter things.

He didn’t mean it—he couldn’t.

Right?

In fifteen minutes I was supposed to leave with Kope to meet Flynn, but my mind was an absolute mess. I took deep breaths. I could not think about this—about the sound of Kaidan’s cold voice and . . . and . . . no. It was too much. I had to clear my mind and concentrate on my task. The drama of my personal life would have to wait until I had time for an emotional breakdown, because that’s exactly what I was in for when this mission was complete.

CHAPTER TEN

THE GHOST

Kope and I silently climbed the stairs inside the arena. Our seats were halfway up the stadium, far enough back so Flynn wouldn’t spot us. The first fight had already taken place and the second was underway. Fans were rowdy as we passed. I was thankful for all the distractions giving me excuses not to make eye contact with Kope.

Energy surged through the air during intermission as the crowd geared up for the championship fight. Everyone was buzzing about “the Ghost,” Flynn Frazer.

“The Ghost?” I whispered to Kope, not able to look at him yet.

“He moves so quickly, his opponents never see him coming,” he explained.

I sat back and watched, finding the emotional climate of the room very interesting. I suppose I’d been expecting a lot of bloodthirsty negative energy at a fight, but I was way off. It was a happy crowd. Sure, there were some dark auras among the bright oranges, but the overall vibe was one of respectful excitement. Out of habit I kept my eyes peeled for demon spirits.

The lights dimmed and music began to blare from the overhead speakers—a thumping, tribal beat mixed with hard rock guitar chords. I stood up with everyone else, eager to get a look at Flynn.

His opponent came out first, wearing blue, bouncing on his heels and pumping a fist in the air. He bounced his way to the caged octagon, where he climbed in and did a series of air punches before making his way to the side where a man waited with a towel around his neck. The crowd booed. No love for blue.

A hush fell, and the music seemed to get louder. When Flynn slowly stalked his way into the arena, wearing all red with his eyes ablaze, the place erupted. I found myself clapping and leaning forward to get a better view. Nervousness clawed at me as I watched the Ghost take his time getting to the octagon, his crazed eyes on his opponent and an eerie smile on his wide lips. As far as scary taunts went, I’d say his was way up there. Gone was any sign of the big smile from his pictures.

The announcer came to the middle of the octagon and presented the first fighter, whose name I didn’t even catch. But when he announced Flynn “the Ghost” Frazer, I added my voice to the sea of cheers.

Everyone stayed on their feet when the match began. Flynn had a natural charisma. He paced around his opponent like a sleek red panther on a hunt, while the guy in blue bounced and hopped from side to side like a rabbit. Flynn’s opponent didn’t seem scared, but anyone could see that he should be. I was scared for him.