Page 32 of Glorious Rivals
All of that, in Grayson’s judgment, was true.None of it was the truth that mattered most.You have a sponsor, and whoever it is, you think they might have left acallalily for you.
“I don’t expect you to take me at my word—on anything,” Brady told Lyra.“But maybe a show of good faith would help?”The scholar bowed his head toward Lyra and murmured something too low for Grayson to hear.
What are you telling her?What kind of move are you making, scholar?
With one last glance at Lyra, Brady made his way to the end of the helipad, the side of itawayfrom the water.And then he was gone.
Lyra waited a bit longer before she turned back toward Grayson.
“A show of good faith?”Grayson queried.
“Roman numerals,” Lyra replied.
“We’d solved that much already,” Grayson said.
“He solved more.”Lyra brought her amber eyes to rest on Grayson’s, and he recognized the glint in them.“And when an answer is right—you know.”
Chapter 25
GRAYSON
The clock on the fourth floor of the mansion was large, the Roman numerals on its face prominent and gold, and Grayson couldn’t help thinking that his brothers and Avery had designed a shining, glittering game.
Beside him, Lyra still held the calla lily in her hand.Noting the way Grayson had just glanced at it, she spoke.“Someone sent me here, but why distract me once they did?”Lyra shifted the flower from her right hand to her left, then placed her right palm flat on the face of the clock.“First the notes with my father’s names on them, then the flower, even that picture of Brady’s—of a girl supposedly namedCalla.”
“Quite the coincidence.”Grayson lifted a hand and joined Lyra in probing at the Roman numerals on the clock.
“What if Brady and I have the same sponsor?What if that person is trying tomake meremember the night my father died?”
Grayson thought about the way Lyra had referred to herself asa weapon—a bomb.Given the intensity of Jameson’s reaction to the mere mention of Alice, it seemed clear enough that there were secrets to be detonated here.
Dangerous ones.
“The Grandest Game.”Grayson turned his head and caught Lyra’s eyes.“Do you still want to win?”He felt like the lowest of the low for asking that question, for redirecting her, but he told himself that it didn’t count as manipulation if he put the ball in her court.
All he’d done is ask if she wanted to win.
“Have I told you about my dad?”Lyra was still staring at the clock.“Not my father—myrealdad, the one who raised me.”Lyra’s voice was even—too even.“He’s great.I have always, for as long as I can remember, been a daddy’s girl.And my dad—henever took me out of preschool and to a strange house, never told mehappy birthdayand then made me his witness to things a child should never have to see.”Lyra’s voice wasn’t quite so even anymore.“Mydadhas always been there for me.My mom, too.And I have always—always—known that I was loved.”
Grayson had never had parents—not really, not like that, and the old man’s love had been a different kind of beast.Still, Grayson knew whatfamilywas, what it meant.Thanks to his brothers, he hadalwaysknown, and Lyra had never been more beautiful to him than she was right now, talking about hers.
“I have a little brother—much younger,” Lyra continued, and Grayson could hear the steel in her tone, see it in the tilt of her chin.“And we have a huge extended family on Dad’s side.I’ve always been a Kane to them.From day one, from the moment they met Mom and me, we were theirs.”She paused.“And so is Mile’s End.It’s been in the Kane family for generations.Myfamily.”
“So, yes,” Grayson summarized.“We’re still playing.You still want to win.”
Lyra let the calla lily in her hand drop to the floor.“The Roman numerals seem to be firmly attached.We could try moving the hands on the clock?”The look of concentration on her face intensified “To eight-fifty.”
Grayson saw her logic immediately:VIII,L.He lifted his hand, and together, they moved the massive minute and hour hands on the clock—to no effect.
“We’re close,” Grayson told Lyra.“I can feel it.”He did his best to redirect his own mind to the game—and only the game.
“Close isn’t enough.”Lyra tilted her upper body sideways, raising one leg as she did until it and her torso were parallel to the floor.
“A change in perspective?”Grayson moved his hands to her waist to support her, like they were dancing—like the chandelier all over again.
“The shape of the hands,” Lyra said, and if he’d thought her voice was intense before, that was nothing compared to the strength in it now.“Make it anL.”
Sometimes, a letter was a number—and sometimes, it was ashape.
