“Okay. When you find him. What are you going to do?”
He glances at me quickly, then back to the road as he shifts, driving twice the speed limit. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
“Do you realize that’s like a standard answer for you?”
“What?”
“You don’t tell me anything. Not about Mercedes. Not about my father or Hazel and now Abel. He’s still my brother, Santiago.”
“Half brother.”
“I’m not saying he shouldn’t be punished, but…” I trail off, remembering the bloody scene I glimpsed at the house where those men had kept me. “I don’t want you to do anything…I don’t know…illegal.”
He looks at me, eyebrows high.
“Even if he’s only a half brother, he’s still that.”
“Do I need to remind you of what he’s done?”
I look out the window and watch the city come into view as we ride in silence for the rest of the trip. When we arrive at IVI, I can see the number of people is about half what it was the last time, but I swear all eyes turn to us as we walk onto the courtyard where refreshments are being served, and men and women are gathered in small groups talking and drinking.
Santiago must feel my hesitation and rubs a circle on my lower back. The dress is cut low and feeling his warm hand on me is reassuring. I lean a little closer to him.
“Santiago, it’s been a long time,” an old man I don’t know says and pats Santiago’s back.
“Jonathan!” Santiago smiles—an actual smile—but he checks himself quickly. “It’s been long because you ran off to Europe for a year chasing after a pretty thing far too young for you.” They shake hands.
“Entirely too young but well worth the effort.” He winks. “And Europe was nice.”
“It’s good to see you. I didn’t realize you’d be here tonight, actually.”
“I’m not here for the dinner but when I learned your new bride would be accompanying you, I thought I’d love to meet her.” He turns a broad smile to me. “This must be the beautiful Ivy. My dear, it is a pleasure to meet the woman who has managed to move this man’s heart.”
The words take me by surprise, and I know they do Santiago too as he clears his throat, hand stiffening at my back.
“I am Jonathan Price, your husband’s godfather, believe it or not. Known him since he was oh…so big.” He leans down so his hand is at knee level, then extends that same hand to me, palm up.
I slip my hand into it. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Price.”
“Jonathan, please,” he says, cupping my hand between both of his.
“Jonathan,” I repeat, smiling, liking the old man. “You’re Santiago’s godfather?”
He nods. “His father and I went way back. Shame what happened to him and Leandro.” His expression darkens.
“I’m sure Ivy doesn’t want to hear about all that,” Santiago breaks in.
Jonathan lets go of my hand and turns to Santiago. “Of course. I saw your sister just inside on the arm of Lawson Montgomery?” he asks that last part, eyebrows high on his head.
“Inside, you say?”
“Can’t miss her. Never could miss Mercedes.” A man who looks familiar, but I can’t quite place walks toward us, his expression serious. It’s not until he’s almost upon us and his eyes fall to my stomach that I realize who it is. One of The Councilors of The Tribunal. “It was nice to meet you, Ivy. Santiago, I’ll see you another time,” Jonathan says and turns to walk toward the man.
My heart is pounding.
“Relax,” Santiago says. He must feel my anxiety as he leads me toward the open French doors of a dining room I’ve not been in before. It’s beautiful, the walls, heavy curtains, and seating in various shades of red. Even the ceiling is draped with a silky scarlet fabric gathered at the center around a beautiful crystal chandelier.
“Wow,” I say, unable to help myself. The Society has deep pockets, as do its members, and I know a bulk of that is due to my husband’s skills with numbers and markets and things I don’t even try to understand.
A waiter comes over with a new bottle of whiskey that he shows Santiago. Santiago looks at it, nods, and watches as it’s opened and a glass poured.
“For the lady?” the waiter asks him.
I almost roll my eyes. Santiago turns to me for my answer. “Water is fine,” I say.
“You heard her,” Santiago tells him when he continues to stand there waiting for Santiago to reply. A few minutes later, I have a very fancy flute of water.
I’ve barely taken a sip when I hear Mercedes’s laughter coming from the other side of the room. Santiago has already spotted her, and I see she’s seen us. She doesn’t miss a beat, though, as she tells a story to the half dozen people surrounding her and the man at her side. He seems familiar although I can’t place him, either. It’s his stance, tall and broad-shouldered, and his commanding presence.