Page 38 of Onyx Realm
Atlas stared at me for a long moment. “I need you to make sure she isn’t a risk. We can’t afford a weak point, now more than ever.”
He was right—as usual, the bastard. “I’m handling it.”
“I know you will. And Markos? Don’t get caught snooping,” Atlas said dryly. “I don’t want to light you on fire next.”
That was as close to affection as the king was capable of.
“I’m touched by your concern,” I said, matching his dry tone. The funeral’s solemnity had drained from us, replaced by the more familiar undercurrent of dark humor that kept us sane in this life.
Atlas gave me a look that said he saw through my deflection. “The girl, Markos. Deal with her.”
I nodded curtly, knowing further argument would only raise suspicions. My house guest was nothing more than a temporary distraction—a beautiful accident that complicated my plans. But something about her quick wit and the way she looked at me—like she saw past the monstrous facade—had kept me coming back.
And the fact that she was brave enough to kiss my scarred visage....Dammit.
Thinking of that kiss was driving me to the brink of insanity.
“I’ll handle it,” I assured him again, already calculating how to navigate this delicate situation without bloodshed. Just because no one had come forward to challenge my protection didn’t mean Serena was safe here.
Dawn broke fully as I made my way back to the marina and my vehicle, the weight of the last twenty-four hours settling on me like a chain. Another breakfast, this one to be finished, tempted me to turn left at the fork. But business waited for me in the city. As I turned right, I focused all my attention on making Serena my business. Dark thoughts formed, calculated plans shifted, and by the time I was on the beltway, cruising toward Tampa, I had an inkling of an idea what to do with my little princess. Giving her a purpose would ensure she stayed indefinitely. What that purpose was, however, taunted every fiber of my creativity.
Chapter 15 – Serena
Lugging the container of foul-smelling sea animals up the steps, I focused on not slipping. It was bad enough to be sweating bullets, sporting a deep suntan that would redden any minute, and carry the briny substance to be turned into bait. I didn’t want to wear the mess on top of that.
I avoided looking at the far end of the gravel parking lot where I last saw the men who’d abducted me. I wasn’t prone to panic attacks, but I wasn’t tempting one either.
Inside the tackle shop, the little bell above the door chimed, announcing my arrival. Tourists, dressed in sporting equipment, sipped their coffee. These would board a villager’s vessel and go out with the afternoon tide. Their guided fishing tour would last all night, and at dawn, they would come back, stinking and hopefully happy.
“Make sure she’s gassed up. Thank ya, sweetheart,” a Texan drawl said.
I shot a warning look to where Evangelia stood behind the tiller. Her eyes weren’t as red today. But the dark circles under them said she’d not slept well again.
I didn’t know how to help her. Losing one of my brothers was unfathomable.
Guilt bubbled in my chest. If there was a chance to pass a message back home to the boys, it was the right thing to do. The strangest part about this kidnapping was that contacting my family and using them as a means of escape had never been a primary thought. What was I going to do? Call them? They would show up here with an army of Made Men, shoot up the village, and take me home—where I would forever besafe.Calling them to tell them I was fine was so far back on my list, it hadn’t crossed my mind until Iakovos’s funeral. But ever sincethat sorrowful church service, I learned to squash the tiny voice of guilt. I wasn’t in danger, so why did my brothers need to know?
I’m going to have to tell them eventually.
And then, I would never be allowed to leave Chicago again.
“Lord! That’s good coffee.” The Texan slapped his thigh.
The accent felt...fake.
I set my load down in the back and stood by Evangelia. I wasn’t allowed to work the counter or, for that matter, to interact with customers. And it wasn’t because the non-locals might ask about the mostly faded marks on my face. It was the chance I might pass a message for help and beg them for a ride out of town. Myhostswere smart.
But I risked their wrath by touching the girl’s wrist and tugging her into the back. “Help me scoop out the sea critters?”
Evangelia sighed. “You’re going to have to learn to chop the crab yourself, Serena.”
I pulled her along, and when we were out of earshot, I jerked my chin. “Everything okay out there?”
She waved her hand. “Yeah, yeah, no worries.”
“Who is he?” I pressed.
“Um, some rich guy who comes into the marina on his boat for the guided fishing trip. This is his fourth voyage with us.”
