Crimson Highlander (Onyx Assassins 2)

She heaved a sigh of relief, sagging against the back of the couch. “Thank God.”

“God didn’t have much to do with that one. It was Lyric’s blood and the fact that the bullet only grazed him. The Night Thistle drove him mad for forty-eight hours and nearly killed him.” It was a struggle to keep my voice level.

“I know.” She looked down at her hands. “I never meant for him to get hurt.”

Her voice was soft but strong, and I couldn’t detect a lie in it. Then again, Benedict wasn’t exactly available for consult. He was still currently sleeping off the after-effects of the Night Thistle.

“I want to believe you.” I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on my knee.

“I can see why you wouldn’t.” Her eyes met mine, and there was an emotion there I’d never seen in her before—regret. “I should have read it closer. I must have missed something—”

“Or they know you’re with us and deliberately played you.” That was the only explanation I’d been able to think of that didn’t leave me throwing my mate out on her ass for nearly getting my brother killed.

Her eyes flew wide, and she sucked in a breath. “There’s no way…” Two lines formed between her eyebrows.

“We’ve suspected that there’s a leak in the estate since last year.” I glanced at the contract in my hand, knowing it would either condemn her or possibly exonerate her, and my heart clenched, hoping for the latter. “Who is Living Pine, LLC?”

She startled, her eyebrows shooting up. “It’s one of the shell companies used by Moorehouse Industries. The business at Moorehouse is all legitimate. It had to be in order to continue funding the Sons of Honor, but we formed dozens of shell companies over the years to hide our tracks. Why?” Her head tilted to the side, and she glanced at the contract in my hand.

She hadn’t lied, so that was a plus in her column.

“Tell me about this.” I handed the contract over. It was a copy, and I didn’t even question that Ransom had already scanned it in. Guy was anal when it came to the tech.

She leaned forward, and my skin sizzled where her fingers grazed mine as she took the paper. By the little catch in her breath, she’d felt it, too.

Good. I was glad I wasn’t the only one suffering here. My skin was tight, my throat parched, and my fangs ached in time with my pulse. Taste. Take. Claim. My body’s demands were pretty damned clear when it came to the incredibly beautiful little minx across from me. Taste—

Shut the fuck up.

“Huh. It’s the contract for the Fourth of July party.” She glanced up at me, then back to the document. “Wait! This is it! She’ll—”

“You honestly think they’re still going to hold a party you set up?” I gritted my teeth against the warring emotions in my gut. One told me to question everything, it was what had kept me alive all this time. The other screamed at me to trust my mate.

“Absolutely,” she nodded. “Invitations went out months ago. Living Pine is a shell but it’s a charitable shell. This isn’t just a party for Moorehouse—everyone in Edgemont society goes. The mayor, city council…everyone. It’s tradition.” She uncurled those long legs, revealing her bare feet, and leaned forward. Why the hell was she always barefoot? It made her seem more vulnerable—she wouldn’t be able to run properly if there was sudden attack. “We have to go.”

I scoffed. “Yeah, okay. We tried that once this week already, remember?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t set you up! You either believe me or you don’t, Lachlan, but don’t offer me some explanation that Moorehouse might be using me and then come back at me with the you did this bullshit. That isn’t fair.”

The air in the room crackled with tension, and not just the sexual kind I was used to around her. This wasn’t just a matter of getting back her cousin anymore. This went to the very heart of whether or not I could trust the woman fate had paired me with.

“Okay,” I conceded. “You’re right.”

Her lips parted in surprise.

“Everything you’ve told me so far about that document has been the truth. But why the Opera House? And I thought it was standard policy that Moorehouse didn’t gather after sunset for…obvious reasons.” I flashed my fangs.

“The Opera House is the oldest structure in the city. It survived the Revolution and the War of 1812. The Sons revere that building. We’ve been trying to celebrate the Fourth of July there for the last fifty years, but someone always books it first. That’s how I know they won’t cancel it. And let’s face it, you can’t exactly see the fireworks in the daytime.” She lifted her brows at me.

That all made plenty of sense. My chest rumbled with laughter. “Fucking ironic,” I muttered.