Page 34 of Born in Fire
I pace from window to window, phone in hand, checking the time every thirty seconds. Two hours and seventeen minutes since Caleb left. No word yet.
Where the fuck is he?
The NyxCorp documents still sit on my dining table, untouched since this morning. I should be reviewing them. Should be preparing for tomorrow’s board meeting. Should be doing anything but wearing a path in my hardwood floors.
Instead, I keep replaying the expression on Caleb’s face when he mentioned Elena’s name. I’ve seen my brother interested in women before—usually brief entanglements that neverpenetrate his armor of duty and responsibility. This is different. There’s something personal in his urgency to find her.
My phone buzzes. I frown at the number I don’t recognize on the screen. For a moment, I’m tempted not to answer, but then consider that it could be connected to the shitshow we’re in right now.
“This is Dorian,” I say as I pick up the call.
“Where is she?” The voice on the other side is a shade short of hysteria.
“Who is this?” I frown.
“It’s Mara, dammit! Where is Elena?” She’s breathless.
Fuck’s sake!
How did she get my damn number?
“She’s fine,” I lie. I have no idea how she is. “Everything is under control.”
“I don’t believe you! Put her on the line.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “She’s with Caleb. She’ll be home shortly.”
“You’re lying,” she snaps. “I told you I’d call the cops if you didn’t bring her back. Don’t make me do it!”
“Mara, I swear to you that she’s fine.” I pray that I’m right. “Sit tight. She’ll be back before you know it.”
There’s a pause and then a sigh. “Okay. But if she’s not home within the hour…”
“She will be, Mara. You have my word.” I inject as much sincerity as I can into the words. She gives a snort a moment before the line goes dead.
I scrub a hand through my hair and call up Caleb’s number. It rings through to voicemail.
“Fuck!” I growl, redialing and holding my breath as I wait for him to pick up.
Don’t you dare be dead, you dick!
“Hello?” His voice is hoarse. But he’s clearly not dead. Small mercies.
Relief floods me. “Caleb! Where are you?”
“Home. I have Elena.”
“Good. Because Mara’s losing her shit. She’s threatening to go to the cops. If she does—”
“I’ll handle it,” he cuts me off.
“You’d better. And Caleb… be careful. She’s not just some random PI. There’s something about her.” I don’t know why I’m sure of it, but I’m certain that I’m right.
Instead of answering, he ends the call, leaving me fuming. Fucking asshole could try a little harder to communicate clearly.
I stand there for a moment, staring at the screen. There’s nothing left for me to do aside from mulling over these latest developments.
What the fuck is Malakai up to?
