“What was it?” I asked him. “Was it work?”
“No, sweetheart. It wasn’t work.”
We went through to the kitchen and he propped himself against the counter, but his stare was anything but relaxed. “The Power Brothers are entering into discussions with your family.”
I’m sure my mouth must have dropped open. “Discussions? But what the hell have they got to be talking about? My family think Elliot Ree killed me to clear my debts…”
“This is the problem,” he said. “Apparently they aren’t quite so sure that is the case anymore. It appears the Power Brothers are intent on making that clear, and everyone else is likely believing them.”
I felt a flood of panic in me, because if my family didn’t believe my note was telling the truth… if they started asking questions which led them closer to reality…
Lucian made us token coffees that neither of us had an interest in.
“My father had a file full of witness statements. People telling tales about how I was chasing you through clubs downtown. Even the security guard I kneed in the gut was fool enough to tell the world it was me who did that to him. Under usual circumstances he’d pay for that. I’d have him torn to pieces.”
“Does he believe them, your father?” I asked. “Does he think it was you who took me?”
He sipped his coffee. “He asked me if I killed you. I said no.”
I let out a breath. “Maybe they won’t find out what really happened. Who knows? Maybe my family will attack the Power Brothers before they ever realize they didn’t get to me in time. Because they would have taken me, the Power Brothers… I really did see Elliot Ree hunting me down. They would have killed me.”
He shook his head. “Your friend Tristan hasn’t spoken yet. That singer he was hooked up with hasn’t either, but if they do. When they do.” He paused. “Or when people question who the hell Terence Kingsley is, which they will do pretty damn soon. Or when they realize that Reverend Lynch has been taken from the manor. So many things, baby. It’s only a matter of time.”
My soul was shriveling, because he was right. The roads all led to Lucian. To me and Lucian. Even my cousin Silas had seen us together, back at Tinsley’s birthday ball. As soon as the Power Brothers were out of the question, it would be like an atom bomb, waiting right at our door, ready to explode.
“So what do we do?” I asked him. “We have to do something, right? There has to be something we can do, because I can’t go back there. I can’t, Lucian.”
“Every second is one step closer to our doom,” he told me. “We have to move. Quickly.”
I was nodding, frantic. “Yes, we move! We move anywhere! I don’t care where we go, just as long as I’m with you. Please, Lucian, let’s run. Let’s run now!”
His cell sounded out again. A message. He picked it up and I watched his face as he read it. I saw his mouth drop. “That’s my good friend, Hunter Sparro. He’s asking me what the hell is going on. Says everyone is talking about Lucian Morelli and Elaine Constantine and how I’ve been hunting you down.”
My head was spinning, trying to work out some miracle solution. I’d been a fool to think a single note would condemn the Power Brothers for wiping me out without anyone questioning a thing. Only I hadn’t cared about Lucian Morelli then. Not enough to attempt something less questionable.
Lucian’s fingers were still hitting his cell screen.
“I’ll make some calls,” he said. “Get an exit plan together.”
“An exit plan?”
“Fake IDs. We need to get out of here, overseas as soon as possible.”
“Okay. Right,” I said. “I guess you have loads of them, right? Fake IDs and stuff. I know people do. People like you, I mean.”
He sneered, but there was affection in it. “People like me. I love how you’ve been raised to believe that I really am some monster from the underworld and your family is on the other end of the spectrum. Believe me, sweetheart, your family will have as many fake IDs as mine will. They’re as fucked up in the evil shit as we are.”
I tipped my head. “Yeah, okay, well, I don’t have any fake IDs. I’ve never seen one in my life.”
He smirked. “I love your innocence.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not many people would say a party girl with a debt so huge it would cost her her life had a huge amount of innocence about her.”
“Still,” he said. “You’re innocent. I love you for it.”
Hearing those words from him made my soul sing. I love you. Lucian Morelli really loved me. A Morelli really did love a Constantine.
And a Constantine loved him right back.
“You know this is like some fucked-up version of Romeo and Juliet, right?” I said. “It’s like a modern-day Shakespeare, just a whole load less… picturesque.”
I adored his smile, even though it was a sad one. “Just a shame Romeo and Juliet both die at the end of it, isn’t it? Let’s do our best to make sure we don’t follow in their fucking footsteps.”
He finished his coffee and wandered away with his cell in his hand, fingers busy. I finished mine and headed through to the living room, daring to put the TV on to check out the latest news.
It was all still the same, pleas for information from my family and people saying random shit about where they’d seen me. It seemed the mainstream media wasn’t anywhere closer to the truth. I doubted they ever would be.
I could hear Lucian speaking, his voice low and his tone his usual icy pitch. I didn’t focus on what he was saying. There was a strange calmness in me somehow, even with the looming carnage. It was trust. I trusted Lucian to take care. Of me. Of us.
He was gone a while before he came through to the living room.
“The UK,” he said to me. “We’ll go to the UK. We’ll be running, but we stand more chance of surviving with the Atlantic as a buffer, at least.”
I hadn’t been to the UK since I was a little girl. We’d gone there as a family, smiling for the cameras as we checked out London with a few of the aristocrats we were such good family friends with. I’d been in awe of the place. I’d loved it. The London Eye and Buckingham Palace and the quaint countryside surrounding the city.
“Can we get there?” I asked him. “Will we manage to make the journey?”
“Only one way to find out.”
One thing was for sure, I’d risk my life trying.
4
Lucian
We were fighting time and I knew it. The tentacles were snaking closer to us. Questions hissing closer and closer.
I’d managed to find out that the Constantines were meeting the Power Brothers at that very moment. We had hours, tops, before those discussions would lead to our demise, or get very close to it. As soon as the Constantines stopped looking at the Power Brothers and shot even the slightest glance in another direction, we’d be fucked, and my father had his pulse in line with theirs, seeking out my lies.
The contacts I chose to use were distant from my regular network—as distant as I could possibly risk venturing. I mentioned nothing about Elaine Constantine being alongside me, just that I needed a fresh set of IDs to get out of the country. Wesley Dale was all set to meet me in the parking lot of JFK International Airport, but it would be over 24 hours until he could deliver. As well as the fake IDs, he was also getting us tickets on a flight out of there, heading right on over to the UK.