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She nodded and picked the hanger back up. “I’m sorry. You’re not well yet. Two weeks isn’t enough time for anyone to recover from … whatever they did to you. You still look half-starved.”
“Some women do this to themselves on purpose, you know. Others pay to get this look.” I spread my arms, trying not to see how thin I still looked in the mirror.
“Those women are crazy.”
“No argument from me.” I pulled a pair of fuzzy socks from my top drawer and stuffed my feet into them, trying to make up for the abuse they’d endured most of the night.
Kenley slid the straps of her dress into the notches on top of the hanger. “So, do you know what you’re going to do? How you’re going to snag him?”
I followed her with the stilettos when she carried the dress into her own bedroom. “I’m going to snare him with my demure manner and natural charm, of course.”
Kenley laughed.
“I don’t think Jake realizes how much he’s bitten off with this one, and I’ve tried to tell him I’m not a recruiter, but he won’t listen to reason.”
“It could be worse, though, right?” She hooked the hanger over the top of her closet door and knelt to dig through the junk on the floor. “I mean, he could be making you throw yourself at someone hideous, like the Tracker Monica had to reel in last month. He’s truly—” She flinched when she realized what she’d said. I’d been locked up last month. All month. And I had yet to meet whatever ogre Monica had recruited to replace Cameron Caballero, when Cavazos bought out his contract. “Well, trust me, he’s hairier than a gorilla and he smells even worse. At least Holt’s clean. And he’s nice-looking, right?”
I dropped the shoes into the box she held open for me. “He must be, if you noticed.”
Kenley flushed and slid the box onto a stack of others in one corner of her closet. “Like you didn’t.”
I shrugged. We’d never actually talked about her taste in men. Or lack thereof. But I didn’t give a damn whether she slept with men or women, or both at once, so long as it was her choice. So long as she wasn’t being used for anything except the bindings she’d been recruited to seal.
“What the fucking hell is this?” She slid one hand behind the dress still hanging on her closet door and pulled the material closer to her face.
“You sound like a kid playing dress up when you cuss. Give it up. You lack the skill.”
Instead of answering, she held the dress out to me. “How did you manage to get blood on my dress at a formal party, Kori?”
“Shit. Sorry.” I sank onto her bed and folded my legs beneath me. “I thought I avoided the spray.”
“Whose?”
“David’s,” I said, and she waited, obviously expecting more of an explanation, so I rolled my eyes and sighed. “He started it.”
“What’d he do?”
“Doesn’t matter. The point is that if I let the bastard get away with something small now, he’ll try something bigger next time.”
Kenley hung the dress in her closet. “It was about the basement, wasn’t it?” she said, and when I didn’t answer, my sister sighed. “The blood’s dry now, but there may be enough for a decent binding, if I dampen it. I could make him leave you alone.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I fight my own battles.” As well as most of hers.
“What happened in the basement, Kori?” She spoke with her back to me, like she didn’t want to see my face when I answered. Like she already knew I’d lie.
“Nothing.” Some lies between sisters are okay. Some are forgivable. Some are unavoidable.
Mine was all three.
Kenley sighed, but she let it go. “Come on. I’ll make you a sandwich.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’re skinny. You need to eat.”
“Yes, Gran.” I rolled my eyes again, but followed her into the kitchen and sat at the bar while she made two grilled-cheese-and-tomato sandwiches, both for me. My mouth was watering before she’d finished buttering the bread.
“How bad is this, Kori?” she asked, as she set the first one in front of me on a paper plate.
“Looks good from here.” I picked up the sandwich and Kenley frowned at me—she knew damn well that I knew what she really meant.
“What’s gonna happen if you can’t sign him?” she asked, and I set the sandwich down, my appetite suddenly gone.
“That won’t happen. I’ll get him.”
“But if you can’t? If he’s only here to eat, drink and be merry on Jake’s dime? What’s Jake going to do, Kori? Tell me the truth. You owe it to me.”
She was right about that, but I couldn’t give her all of it.
I exhaled slowly and met her gaze across the counter. “He’ll kill me.” Slowly. Jake wouldn’t want me to die without having time to truly suffer first.
But I couldn’t tell her the rest of it. I couldn’t tell my sister what would happen to her if I failed.
Because I wasn’t going to let that happen.
Six
Ian
After Kori left, I sat on one of the couches in the front room and stared at the door for a solid five minutes, trying to figure out what I’d said to send her fleeing into the night. I couldn’t remember a woman ever running away from me before, and I certainly hadn’t expected that from Tower’s liaison.
Whatever I’d done, I couldn’t afford to do it again. This was my only shot. Tower trusted me—as much as he ever trusted anyone who wasn’t bound to him—because he’d approached me, rather than the other way around. If I got caught, he wouldn’t fall for the same trick again. But it wasn’t just his trust I needed.
I lay in bed half the night, trying to figure out how to get Kori to trust me enough to reintroduce me to her sister. Maybe even take me to Kenley’s house, or leave me alone with her somewhere else. Anywhere else. Because the alternative was too horrible to contemplate.
I didn’t want to kill Kori’s sister in front of her, but I would, if I had to. I’d do it for my brother, and for everyone else who’d ever been bound against his or her will by Kenley Daniels.
Few could have done what Kori’s sister had done to my brother—most Binders weren’t strong enough to make a nonconsensual binding stick. But Kenley wasn’t most Binders. She had an extraordinary amount of power, and as long as she wielded it like a weapon—or let someone else wield her power like a weapon—she was a threat to the general population. As was anyone pulling her strings.
Which was why Kenley Daniels had to die.
Bringing down Jake Tower was a bonus. It was also the carrot I’d dangled in front of Aaron, a die-hard Independent activist, to get him to help with the research and intel.
The plan had been simple, at least in theory. Kill the Binder, and those she’d bound would go free. By Aaron’s estimate, in the six years Kenley Daniels had been working for Tower, she’d sealed bindings not only for most of the new recruits, but for most of the existing employees who’d reenlisted during that time period.
Jake Tower was the king of a castle built around a single, crucial cornerstone—Kenley Daniels. With her death, he would lose the majority of his workforce—the legion of indentured servants blood bound to follow his every order—and with them, his power and influence.
The whole recruitment ruse was intended to put her within my reach. She was supposed to be my liaison to the Tower syndicate; I’d described her in perfect detail.
Kori wasn’t supposed to happen. She’d never even met my brother, and she hadn’t bound anyone to Jake Tower, which made her useless to both me and Aaron. But she was all I had, so I’d have to make it work.
When she knocked on the door the next morning, I was as ready as I was going to get.
“Nice boots,” I said as she stepped past me into the living area. “They should make it even easier to run away.”
“Meaning?” But I could see the truth in the tense line of her shoulders. She knew exactly what I meant.
“You ran out of here last night like the hotel was on fire.” I headed into the bedroom and her quick, angry footsteps followed me.
“I wasn’t running, I was … drunk. Too much vodka. I didn’t want to puke all over your hotel room.”
I glanced at her from the closet doorway. She’d gulped from the bottle like a pro, without even flinching. Kori Daniels might have been a lot of things, but she was not a novice drinker. Yet there was something new and vulnerable in her expression—something fragile and caged—and that surprised me so much I decided not to push the issue.
I selected a tie and stood in front of the mirror to knot it, watching her reflection fidget while she watched mine. She was uncomfortable in silence, and her hands needed something to do.
Interesting.
“So, what do you want for breakfast?” she asked, when the silence became too much for her. “There’s a restaurant in the hotel, or we could try—”
“I ordered room service,” I said, giving the knot a final tug to tighten it. “Should be here in—” A knock came from the suite door. “Right about now.”
She followed me to the living area and stood with her arms crossed over her chest while I signed for the food and the waiter laid it out on the table. “I thought we were going out for breakfast.”
“We were. Now we’re not.” I handed the bill back to the waiter and he left, while she continued to scowl at me. “I ordered a little of everything. Take your pick.” She opened her mouth to complain—I could see it on her face—but I spoke over her. “And don’t tell me you’re not hungry. I hate it when women starve themselves to achieve some stupid physical ideal that only looks natural on a twelve-year-old. Men don’t want women who look like children. Not real men, anyway.”
Her eyes narrowed and I could almost hear her teeth grind together. I crossed my arms over my chest and watched her, waiting to see her head explode. She opened her mouth to start what would surely have been an award-worthy string of expletives. But then she saw my face.
“You’re baiting me,” she accused, hands propped on her bony hips.
“Yes.” I started uncovering plates, stacking the domed covers on the coffee table. “You are the most interesting thing Tower has shown me so far. But I do think you’re too thin. Will you eat with me?” I sat at the table and pushed another chair out for her with my foot.
She stood for a moment, watching me. Considering. Then she glanced at the plates steaming on the hotel table. “Fine. But I call the waffles.”
“I’ll split them with you.”
After another moment of consideration, she nodded.
We rearranged food on the plates, splitting the eggs and bacon as well, unwrapping silverware and passing salt, pepper and tiny bottles of syrup back and forth. When I was full and her plate was empty—Kori ate an entire Belgian waffle in under three minutes—I set my remaining food in front of her and leaned back in my chair, watching her from across the table. Studying her.
Reminding myself that she was a means to an end. A tool. Nothing more. No matter how fast my pulse rushed when she looked up, and I realized I’d never seen eyes with such depth, like everything she’d ever seen was still in there staring back at me, daring me to take a closer look.
One moment she looked vulnerable and bruised, and I wanted to bandage wounds I couldn’t even see. Then a second later, that woman was gone, and in her place stood a fierce hellcat, angry at the world and spitting flames with every word, and I wanted to poke her just to see the sparks fly.
I couldn’t figure her out. But the more time I spent with her, the worse I wanted to, and that was dangerous. Kori was dangerous. Tower knew what he was doing when he sent her. How could anyone spend more than five minutes with her and not be fascinated by her? Not want her?
Focus, Ian. Play to win.
“Okay, this is your moment.” I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in my chair. “I am rested, fed and as receptive as I’m going to be. Tell me why I should join the Tower syndicate.”
Kori hesitated with her fork halfway to her mouth, egg yolk dripping into a puddle of leftover syrup on her plate. “Right now? Just like that?”
I nodded. “Wow me.”
She lowered her fork slowly and stared at me from across the table. I’d thrown her off balance, and I was a little relieved to realize that was even possible. “Well, obviously there’s a steady paycheck. A nice one, considering the strength and rarity of your Skill.”
I shrugged. “Every job pays. What will I get from the syndicate that I’m not already getting as a systems analyst?”
Kori laughed out loud, and I almost joined her. Then I remembered to pretend that it was perfectly plausible for me to sit behind a desk all day weighing the pros and cons of various software options for a billion-dollar company, when the truth was that I lived more than an hour from the nearest internet connection, connected to my family only by satellite phone.
Too bad that part of my cover story was set in stone.
“What’s so funny?” I demanded, though I could easily have answered that question myself.
“Can I answer in the form of a list?” she asked, and I nodded, curious now. “The fact that you think you’re getting anything out of being a systems analyst is hilarious. The fact that I don’t even know what a systems analyst does is even funnier. Then there’s the fact that you are a systems analyst. I knew that, but now that I’ve met you, I just … can’t see it.”
“People are rarely what they seem to be at first glance,” I said, trying to pretend I didn’t agree with every thing on her list. “It’s my job to analyze systems. It’s your job to tell me why I’d like answering to Jake Tower more.”
Her smile faded, and I wanted to take it all back. But I had a part to play.
“The apartment.” She set the fork down and pushed her plate away. “I know you haven’t seen it yet, but it’s really—”
I shook my head. “Dig deeper. You’re still throwing money at me, but this isn’t about money.”
Kori frowned, and her eyes narrowed like they did when she got irritated—a pattern I was already starting to recognize. “Of course it’s about money. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t need cash.”
“Is that why you joined? For the money?”
Her frown slipped a little. “I don’t give a shit about the money.” But I’d already known that. She hated champagne and hors d’oeuvres. She preferred boots to stilettos. This was not a woman interested in wealth or social visibility. “I had my reasons.”
I wanted to hear her reasons. Badly. But if she’d wanted me to know, she would have told me. “I have my reasons, too.” And that may have been the truest thing I’d said to her so far.
“Does that mean you’re going to join? Or have I fucked this up already?”
There it was again, that vulnerability. That depth in her eyes, and the way she held her breath waiting for my answer.
“That means I’m going to give you another shot. Tomorrow. Maybe by then you’ll have figured out what carrot to dangle in front of me.”
“This isn’t a fucking game, Ian,” she snapped, and I smiled. I couldn’t help it.
“That’s the first time you’ve said my first name. And of course this is a game. Right now, you’re losing.”
She stood, hands flat on the table, eyes flashing in anger. “You can put on a suit and sit in front of a keyboard every day for the rest of your life if you want, but that’s not going to change who and what you are. You’re a Blinder, and a risk-taker. A thrill-seeker.”
I shook my head, ready to deny what I already recognized as truth—words from my own head, falling out of her mouth. But she cut me off before I could speak.
“I saw your face when you let the shadows fade around us last night, and I know that look. Darkness is in you, Ian. It’s part of you. You’re not going to feel whole until you’re free to live in the shadows of your own creation, and that’s not going to happen for you as a fucking systems analyst. But it can happen for you in syndicate service. And if you’re going to join one, you might as well join the best.”
“And do you really think the Tower syndicate is the best?”
