Nightfall (Devil's Night 4)

“Where are Alex and Aydin?” I whispered over to Michael.

He shook his head. “Call them.”

It was past seven. They were supposed to be here hours ago. They didn’t have any children, so it wasn’t that slowing them down.

I took out my phone, about to call Aydin, but just then Alex charged in, rain drops dotting her bare back in her black top, with strands of her hair sticking to her face. She wore the necklace around her neck that all the women wore, featuring the same crest that matched our rings, as the ghost of a smile played across her lips.

She sat down at the other end of the table, chin up and breathing shallow as Aydin strolled in behind her, a scratch on his cheek and an eyebrow cocked.

“Where were you?” Banks whispered to her.

She just shook her head as Aydin took his seat between her and Banks.

“I had to fucking haul her off the speed boat because she wanted to go spy without you all.”

“Alex,” Kai chided.

But I just laughed under my breath. Owning her own investment firm, sitting on the boards of the two banks Kai’s father retired from, being a partner in the resort, a partner in Damon and Em’s design firm, helping with Winter’s humanitarian organization to feed hungry kids, and running around to campaign for Banks and Rika when needed, hadn’t dulled Palmer’s childlike drive to get into mischief. She was still a lost boy, ready to kill pirates.

I was glad Aydin got to her, though. I didn’t want to have to chase her to that island tonight with the storm coming.

We sat, staring off down the hallway and waiting for our guests to arrive.

I leaned back in my chair, asking Micah on the other side of Emmy, “How long has it been since you’ve seen them?”

He glanced at me. “I have five brothers and you were my best man. Does that answer your question?”

Yeah. The Moreaus were loyal to their name, not to each other. Those weren’t his brothers. We were.

The echo of a door slamming down the pitch-black corridor made us all still, and I faced forward again as everyone rose from their seats.

“Don’t try to shake their hands, Michael,” Micah said in a low voice. “They have to earn our respect. Don’t make it easy.”

“I know.”

“And they’re not here to maintain the status quo,” Micah pointed out, giving Michael tips on dealing with

his family. “There’s been a changing of the guard. They’ll try to establish an identity outside of my father. Be ready.”

“Already am.” Michael buttoned his suit jacket as what sounded like an army marching down the hall got closer and closer.

“I almost wish we’d sent you home for your father to groom,” I grumbled to Micah. “I guess he had to pass on the business to the oldest, though.”

We kept Micah and Rory, they happily moved between Emmy’s old house that they now owned, and Meridian City, but we knew his father was going to pass someday and we’d have to deal with his siblings.

“My father wouldn’t pass on his business to someone just because they were the oldest,” Micah pointed out. “He’d pass it on to the one who could keep it.”

A shiver suddenly ran down my spine, not liking the sound of that.

The steady taps against the hardwood floor grew closer and closer, and I steeled my spine, seeing Damon’s man, Crane, lead our guests in.

“Here they come,” Micah said.

Crane drifted off to stand behind our table as Micah’s six siblings—five brothers and one sister—stepped into the room, immediately spreading out into a V.

I shot a quick glance over at Athos, her breathing and posture steady for her eighteen years and for being in a room full of terrorists for the first time.

Fuck.