Page 70 of Suspicions on the Stage
Morgana stalks over, looking angry as she grips her phone. Hopefully, she doesn’t break the damn thing. “Why in the fuck does it matter who planted an apple tree earlier or whatever? You’ve got more money.”
“Oh, Morgana, that’s positively adorable.” The lawyer chuckles, shaking his head ruefully. “In this part of the country, that counts for so much more than the dollar signs. I know you grew up in Europe; you have to know how lineage affects power and influence.”
“Yes, but America is…”
“Founded by religious zealots the Brits kicked out? Yes, and they brought some of their own baggage along, my dear. It’s particularly tricky here and in the Northeast, but bloodlines—both human and supernatural—are a thing. This will be a very intense battle, and that’s why I have Foley off doing some gruntwork and Eli manning the internet. PR is going to make or break our ability to keep this shit under wraps, so the university can function normally.”
“There’s no way this stays a secret,” Liam interjects. “Not with the way the local police handled Lucas’ questioning.”
“Oh, I’m aware.” Jackson winks at us and then turns back to the group. “But we’ll be ready for it. I’m calling in some chips. Once Eli confirms it worked, I’ll bring them here to help.”
“You didn’t tell me that!” Morgana crosses her arms over her chest, her brow furrowed. “Who did you try to weasel into doing this?”
“The very best—we’re going to use The Serpent.”
I blink, my jaw dropping as the words echo in the quiet room.
Damn, I wish I didn’t know who that was because of my motherfucking parents—but I do, and it’s going to suck balls.
risky business
MORGANA
Jackson looks down at his phone, his posture confident as he checks his notifications.
“I know it’s a gamble, but I think we’ve reached the point of no return,” he says. His tone is firm, despite the confused looks most of us give the lawyer. He looks over at Lucas and Slade, both of whom obviously know what the fuck he’s talking about.
Iggy is clearly in the dark, like me. He’s watching our legal lion carefully, and I know he wants to ask who this damn guy is but refuses to admit he doesn’t know. Li and Kaspar’s expressions don’t change in the slightest; I have no idea if they think this is a bad idea or not.
Looks like I’m going to have to break the damn silence.
“Who the fuck is this person?” My voice is brittle as I demand Jackson reveal his plan rather than dance around it.
Iggy leans forward, his face reflecting morbid curiosity. “Tell us, Thorne.”
Slade and Lucas exchange a loaded look. Lucas is trying not to move, so he doesn’t mess up the scene, but I can tell he wishes he could pace. Slade is wringing his hands to keep from moving, and I can tell by his expression that whatever he knows about this is bad. The tip of his tongue pokes out to lick his lips before vanishing, and I know it means he’s nervous as hell.
Across from me, Kaspar and Prince Liam are statues, twin studies in cultivated indifference. Kas is standing stock-still, arms crossed as if he’s waiting for an enemy. Liam has his hands in his pockets, his entire presence reduced to that of a marble bust in an empty cathedral. He’s normally so alive, but Jax’s declaration has him mimicking his bodyguard in a way that I hate.
Jackson glances at me, waiting to see if I’m going to lose my temper or let him speak. I incline my head, permitting him to proceed. We don’t have a lot of time before the damn cops get here, and this has to get settled before that happens.
“Are you going to tell us or what, Jax?” I ask impatiently. “You can’t drop that on us and stay quiet. Rip off the bandage.”
“The Serpent’s not a person, strictly speaking. More like—a service.” He tilts the phone so I can see the outline of the logo: a smooth Hydra, every scale rendered in monochrome pixel art. “No website. No phone number. You can only get them by invitation, or if you’re desperate enough to use one of the back channels rich people always have access to. They fix problems.”
I hold out my hand, and Jackson passes me the phone. The screen shows nothing but the logo and a timestamp ticking down slowly in seconds. I flip the phone back to him. “You’ve done business with them.”
It’s not a question—he definitely has, or he wouldn’t be able to show me this.
Jackson nods, rubbing the back of his neck. “Once, with my father, for a senator’s son. We never spoke directly—everything was through intermediaries. Payment was—” he stops, catches himself, glances at Liam. “Let’s just say, expensive.”
Iggy is the first to find his voice. “What kind of expensive? Money, or something we’ll regret in six months? Because we’ve already bargained with a demon this week, and I’m not eager to do it again.”
“Both. There’s always a favor on the back end,” he says with a shrug. His brow furrows as he repeats, “You’ve already bargained with a demon this week? What the hell is going on at the damn campus, Morgana?”
I roll my eyes. “Not related to this murder shit. We needed a line on a specific type of supe that will help me get this place in order more quickly.”
Kaspar cocks his head. “Why them, and not a normal PR team? It feels risky to draw the attention of evil just to make things easier.”
