He decided on sandwiches, an easy meal to throw together if he was feeling fancy. Even better, he could eat the individual components as his energy and stomach permitted if he had a bad day. He found some decent vegetables and wandered to the bakery, where he dug around in the discount pile until he uncovered a bag of rolls that were still soft when he squeezed them. His basket filled quickly after that with his usual purchases. Coffee, creamer, a roll of paper towels, and another bottle of liquid plant feeder for Snafu, not that it would make a difference. He paused in the personal care aisle to eye the boxes of condoms. It was a stupid thought to entertain.

After a few attempts to walk away, only to find himself looping back through the same aisle, he gave in. He added a box to his cart, along with a fresh bottle of lube. He’d never use either, he told himself, guiltily shuffling the contents of his basket so the rolls covered the damning evidence of his foolish hopes, but it was better safe than sorry.

Last stop was for sandwich meat and cheese. He splurged on the thick-cut slices of cheese before facing the intimidating refrigerated wall of plastic boxes and bags. “Isn’t meat supposed to be gluten free?” he mumbled, leaning closer to decipher one of the labels.

“I should hope so,” said a man to his right.

Atlas jerked away, swinging his basket up between them when he registered who was speaking to him. The colors of Jasper Rhodes’s suit were flattened by the industrial lighting, which cast the planes of his face in an uncomfortable blend of shadow and washed-out flesh.

“Surprised to see me, Mr. Kinkaid?” he asked. His smile was too wide, the slightly pointed canines and flat line of straight, white teeth too pronounced to look natural.

“What do you want?” Atlas asked. He doubted Jasper was here with anyone else. It would be cutting too close to sunrise. Besides, the last time he’d been seduced by the Wharrams’ promises, Jasper had come alone to do the job. Bryony Wharram wouldn’t waste her time dealing with Atlas directly.

As he expected, Jasper said, “Ms. Wharram wished for me to contact you about our agreement. Your time has come.”

Of course it would come now. Decebal’s absence from Scarsdale meant Cristian was a perfect target. But too much had changed—the strigoi, Cristian’s affection, and even Atlas’s view of the situation—for him to obey.

The handles of his grocery basket clicked under the pressure of his nervous grip. “That’s too bad,” Atlas said, “because I can’t help her.”

“I beg your pardon? We thought you understood our terms.” Jasper’s smile was still there, but with a new brittleness. He reminded Atlas of a broken automaton, trying to grind through the jammed gear to complete its task.

“You mean your threats?” He could do this. Cristian had refused his aunt, and he had an even deeper understanding of the dangers Bryony posed. If Cristian could hold to his bravery, Atlas could too. “Consider our agreement broken, Mr. Rhodes,” Atlas said. “I have no desire to help you or your employer any further, not when I’ve seen the methods used to assure your victory.”

“That...that is quite unfortunate,” Jasper said at last, smile finally wiped clean. He looked confused and perturbed in equal measure, and Atlas almost felt sorry for him, knowing he’d have to deliver news of his failure to Bryony. “I don’t suppose asking you to reconsider would work?”

“Afraid not,” Atlas replied.

“Ms. Wharram will not take kindly to this,” Jasper warned. “She may be forced to tell others of your decision.”

Cristian would be wounded by the betrayal, but if he was willing to wait for Atlas’s affection, Atlas could wait for his forgiveness. Decebal would be the real danger. He valued choice though. Atlas, despite all his missteps, had finally made a choice and was standing by it. Hopefully that would be enough to keep him alive. It was Bea he feared for most. But he couldn’t let that fear rule him any longer. It had led him down this path in the first place, and letting go of it was his only shot at escaping Bryony’s clutches.

He doubted humans often turned her or her family down, especially those who had knowledge of who they were and what they did. But he had expected the showdown to be...well, to be something a little more exciting. Jasper’s threat, delivered in the deli aisle of a quiet grocery store, lacked all the terrifying menace Atlas had imagined. His last doubts fled, leaving nothing but confidence in their wake.

“Ms. Wharram can take a flying leap into the sun, for all I care,” Atlas said. He reached past Jasper and took a bag of thinly sliced turkey, which he dropped in his basket. “Goodbye, Mr. Rhodes. I look forward to never hearing from you again.”

* * *

After the previous shift, he should have been more cautious when he returned to work. He should have observed everyone to see if any of them had noticed how his relationship with Cristian had changed. Instead, he drove Cristian to a meeting downtown with some architect Decebal was considering for a project. They fled the elegant, glass-enclosed office as quickly as they could and headed back to the house. Cristian had to debrief his father, so Atlas wandered while he waited for their meeting to end.

Ioana was nowhere to be found. Andrei was watching a movie, which gave Atlas the perfect excuse to not bother him. That left Dinu and Vasilica, who were holed up together in one of the studies. Vasilica waved to Atlas, but didn’t look away from her laptop. An auction website was open on the screen, and she watched the countdown ticking away.

“What’s she bidding on?” Atlas asked Dinu.

Dinu set aside his book—something Italian that included the word caffé—and squinted at the screen. “Another puukko,” he said.

“Not another puukko,” Vasilica corrected. “An original Marttiini Ilves with a raita root burl handle. It’s a piece of fucking art and I swear if this asshole outbids me one more time, I will hunt him down and rip out his heart.”

Atlas glanced at Dinu, who made a face and shrugged. “She’ll be fine,” he assured Atlas. “Just gets a little testy when auctions aren’t going her way.”

“I guess I just expected vampires to have...unlimited funds available,” Atlas said, flinching a little when Vasilica swore and made a higher bid.

“It’s not about buying it outright,” she muttered. “It’s about stealing it out from everybody else for the least amount possible.”

“And when that fails, it’s about finding who got it and waiting for their estate to go up for sale. That way you can try your luck for it again,” Dinu added cheerfully.

“Huh,” Atlas grunted.

“Did you need something?” Dinu asked when he realized Atlas wasn’t immediately leaving.

Tags: M.A. Grant Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net