Horizon (The Soul Seekers 4)

“So, what do you think?”

The voice is Leandro’s and I wait a handful of beats before I acknowledge it.

“A definite improvement.” I turn, allowing my gaze to roam the expanse of his face from behind my dark lenses. Searching for some semblance of myself in his sweep of dark hair and shrewd gaze. Though he’s never been a father to me, there’s no doubt he sired me. Turns out, we have more in common than we could’ve guessed. “So, you survived the blast,” I say. Nothing like stating the obvious. Still, while I came here with an agenda, it’s best not to rush it.

“Did you doubt me?” He cricks his neck, studies me with a practiced eye. His suspicion made plain in the look on his face.

I shrug. Hook my thumbs into my belt loops, aiming for a cool and casual stance. “There were many who were wishing you’d perished.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say many.” He laughs, but the sound is hollow, short-lived. “Though I’m sure there were a few. Which leads me to wonder—were you among them?”

I fix my gaze on his, surprised to find the answer comes quickly. That it’s not at all complicated, and surprisingly genuine. “What kind of son would I be to wish such a thing?”

His gaze narrows, searching for signs of falsehood, mockery, but he’ll find none of that here. I’m glad he survived. More than he could ever realize. Though from the looks of it, Leandro’s hard to convince. “I’m afraid that’s a tougher sell than you think.”

“Why would I lie?”

“Same reason most people lie to me. To gain special favor.”

“I’m not seeking favors.”

“Aren’t you?” His brow creases and lifts, his lips fall thin and flat. “That’s not what I hear. Cade warned me you’d come. Says you want your old job back.”

“Then Cade’s a liar.”

Leandro tenses, his fingers curl ever so slightly, yet there’s no denying his curiosity’s spiked.

“I have no interest in being yet another underpaid lackey.”

He shifts his weight onto his heels, shoots me an appraising look. “So, what do you have in mind?”

“I want that pay raise you promised last New Year’s Eve.”

“That so?” His eyes crease in amusement. “And tell me, Dace, what do you plan on doing to earn it? What sort of services are you offering to provide?”

“Whatever’s needed. You’re the boss, you tell me.” I take a moment to glance all around, trying to guesstimate just how much this renovation might’ve cost. No doubt, it set them back a good bit. Still, the Richters are wealthy beyond measure. Whatever the number, they can afford it.

“Turns out, there wasn’t a whole lot that came out of pocket.” Leandro tries to appear as though he read my thoughts, when in reality, we both know it was my body language that gave me away. “Luckily, we were well-insured. Not that it concerns you.”

“Doesn’t it?”

A group of workers file past, making last-minute adjustments to the furniture placement, the angle of the lighting, as Leandro leans closer and says, “You planning to inherit or claim a portion of the profits?”

“Yes to both.” I meet his gaze. “I figure once you go, at least half should be mine. Don’t forget, I am part Richter.”

“But not the half that counts. As you so eloquently stated last New Year’s Eve.” He tilts his head back, stares down the bridge of his nose. “While I find this all very intriguing, I’m afraid you’re testing my patience. I’m a busy man. I have a club that’s set to reopen, and a long list of things to accomplish well before then. Aside from the responsibility of running this town and looking after its citizens who depend on me for their very well-being. So why don’t you get to the point. You want a job, is that right?”

“For starters.” I nod.

“And why should I hire you when, from what I hear, the gas station just gave you the boot? If you couldn’t even handle that brand of grunt work, what makes you think I want you working in my establishment?”

I duck my head, stare at my feet, figuring it’s better to remain silent than to rush to my own defense. If Leandro feels the need to exert his authority and show me who’s the alpha Coyote, so be it. I’m fine with holding my cards until it’s time to play them.

“Excuse my suspicion,” he continues. “But it wasn’t long ago when you wanted nothing to do with me. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, and rest assured I never am, you saw fit to threaten me. Going so far as to say, ‘I’m the mistake you will live to regret.’”

He pauses, giving me ample time to explain. And since there’s no denying anything he just said, I lift my shoulders, and admit, “That was then. This is now.

“Yeah? And what exactly has changed?”