Page 90 of Wretched Soul
I bite my lip. Stop calling him Shade, I tell myself. Wield his name like the trophy it is.
I’d found the registered Chicago address for Griffin Corps, and after spending yesterday staking out the office block, I’d spotted Ash and another of the Griffin brothers leaving. A few minutes later, Mace had come out with the final brother, who I’m pretty sure was Reid. Reid got into the waiting car, but my target remained on the sidewalk.
I was close enough to hear Reid speak. “You’re walking home? Are you mad?” he’d said, but Mace was already striding away.
Keeping a safe distance behind my quarry, it didn’t take long to understand why Reid had shouted at him. It took forty-five minutes for Mace to reach home. My feet were aching and my shoes pinched so much that I’d considered catching him up and putting an end to the chase there and then. But yesterday was simply an information gathering exercise. Tonight is going to be the showdown. If he turns up.
I’m making a lot of assumptions. Firstly, that he’s out, and that he’ll be coming back home tonight. It’s Thanksgiving and I know his family is important to him. I also know Connie is the most amazing cook, so why wouldn’t the brothers gather at the family home? I’m just hoping Mace returns to his apartment before the coffee shop closes, or I could be spending half the night out in the cold.
I’ve considered the possibility that he’d drive straight into the underground parking garage, but I’m hoping there isn’t an elevator to take him straight to the penthouse without appearing in the foyer first. And yes, I’m making another big assumption that he’s in the penthouse.
I play with the edges of my cell phone as I continue to stare at the apartment block. I could just phone him. I’ve already made him wait for almost two weeks. I don’t imagine he’s enjoying being kept waiting, but this is a big decision he’s asking me to make. I want him to know that I’ve thought it through even if there was never any question of what I was going to do.
Phoning him up and simply asking him his name would have felt far too anticlimactic, like he was taking pity on me and treating me like a victim. What happened to me at Syndella was terrifying, and knowing Mace will always keep me safe is the best feeling in the world, but I need to remind myself that I can look after myself too. If I’m going to be a part of Mace’s life, I need to show him that he’s met his match.
As I lift my cup to my lips, the coffee shop door opens and I have to spit a mouthful of coffee back into my cup. I spin in my seat, putting my back to the doorway. I’m wearing all black, from my sweater and leggings, to my padded jacket and the beanie hat I’ve stuffed my hair into. I’m in full spy mode, and just have to hope that Mace didn’t spot me as he came in.
Heat prickles the nape of my neck as I wait to feel his hand on the back of my neck, or his mouth close to my ear. I release a sigh of relief when I hear him place an order to go. My shoulders tense as I listen to grinding coffee beans. There’s a beep as payment is made, and then a draft of cool air as Mace leaves.
Jumping up, I race to the door. I pretend to fix my beanie as I leave the brightly lit shop, using my hand to cover my face in case Mace turns and spots me. He sips his coffee and strolls straight towards his apartment.
I hang back when he enters the foyer. He chats to the concierge, then moves to the furthest elevator. When he vanishes, I’m left standing on the sidewalk in indecision. I have my tale prepared for the concierge. I’d like to think everyone’s a sucker for a love story, and I’ll be able to persuade him to let me sneak up. I could show him that I have Mace’s number, but it’s not exactly a rubber-stamped invitation to his apartment.
My stomach is leaden as I walk up the steps. What’s the worst that could happen? If I can’t enlist the help of Mace’s guard, I’m just going to have to swallow my pride and ask him to announce my arrival. As I reach the top of the steps, I see an intercom. It looks like I won’t even get into the foyer without permission.
But my luck changes when a couple appear from one of the elevators and head for the doors. At the same time, the concierge disappears into a back room, and I seize my chance. I rush for the doors as the couple step through.
“Happy thanksgiving,” I say, styling it out in case they have any ideas about challenging me.
We part with smiles and I hurry towards the elevator Mace used. The console is slightly different to the others. It’s exclusive for the penthouse. I’ve never used one before, but I presume there’s an added level of security, and once again I’m preparing for defeat as I press the button. The doors slide open.
After selecting the only floor option, I glance in the mirrors. I don’t like the startled woman looking back at me. As the elevator soars upwards, I pull off my beanie and shake my long, auburn locks loose. I’m the Slayer.
There’s a self-assured gait to my walk as I step out of the elevator, and the rubber soles of my boots keep my approach silent. There are three doors, one to a staircase and another to what I guess is a store closet because there’s only one set of doors that has the grandeur befitting a penthouse suite. The double doors are black gloss and there’s a high-tech console on thewall that I’ve no chance of breaking into. I’m almost laughing at myself when I push one of the doors, just in case it’s that easy.
There’s a hiss as the door glides open, and as soon as the gap’s wide enough, I slip inside. Fuck. That couldn’t have gone better. I am a badass.
The entrance hall is wide and sparsely furnished with just one sleek side table that offers no place to hide. To make matters worse, the end of the hall opens out to a vast living space. From my limited perspective, I can see grey couches and a gigantic widescreen TV on the wall. There’s the corner of a kitchen island, but if Mace is there, I don’t hear him. The apartment is silent.
I have to consider the possibility that his brother is here too, even though Mace arrived alone. And if Reid finds me before Mace, it could get awkward. I take a steadying breath as I step deeper into the apartment. I walk past a series of closed doors and stop when I’m at the halfway point. This is it. Time to make my presence known.
Ignoring my racing heart, I put my hands on my hips. My chest expands as I fill my lungs.
“Mason Griffin!”
And then lights go out.
As I’m plunged into complete, impenetrable darkness, my pulse spikes. I was an idiot to think his high-tech security system wouldn’t notice an intruder. I know in my bones this has to be one of Shade’s moves, and I commit everything I’d seen of my surroundings to memory in case I need to move fast.
Nothing happens.
What if I’m wrong? What if this is all automated? What if Mace is locked away in a home gym somewhere, and isn’t aware that I’ve just triggered some alarm that could have a swat team bearing down on me before I get the chance to explain myself?
I turn my head left and right, but I don’t know where the threat will come from. And it’s so fucking dark, I wouldn’t be able to see it if it was staring me right in my face.
“Hello, Lily,” Shade whispers close enough that I feel his breath on the side of my face.
“You bastard!” I cry out, mostly with relief. “Did you turn the lights off?”
