Page 42 of Wicked Court

“Consider it a friendly warning,” he counters, his gaze never wavering. “The treasure, if that’s what you’re after, it’s not what you think. It’s not shiny baubles. And people like you?” He gestures between us, a wry smile playing on his lips. “You’re better off leaving it closed.”

The connection clicks, and I remember where I’ve seen him—linked to that girl, the one who lives in a mansion with four other guys. But not him. He’s…

Her brother. Tempest. And he has a gorgeous blonde girlfriend who’s in her senior year at TFU. I see her in some of my advanced credit classes.

My heart pounds harder, the fear leeching in. The last thing I want is more men involved in the search for my family heirloom.

I decide to test him.

“I’m not looking for a fortune, Tempest. Not in the way you think, at least,” I say.

His eyes flare at the use of his name.

I knew it. It’s him.

Surely, a guy so devoted to his sister and his girlfriend wouldn’t want to harm another woman. Me.

“I’m researching her,” I say, which isn’t entirely a lie. “Her … murders, and what she might’ve left behind, like her daughter, and the Heart.”

Tempest’s reaction is subtle, but unmistakable. A brief tightening around his eyes, a momentary stillness.

“The Heart,” he repeats.

I nod, emboldened by his reaction. “Yes, the ruby. You know about it?”

“The Heart,” he says slowly, “is not what you think it is. Sarah Anderton’s story is far more complicated than any history book or online forums will tell you.”

I tense at his pointed use of forums. Am I being tracked online? Followed by him in person? Why?

Then it hits me. “You’re—you’re part of the Cimmerian Court, aren’t you? Jesus, how many hot, scary men are in your club? And how many are they going to send my way before they get the hint that I don’t have anything and wouldn’t give it to you if I did?”

Unnervingly, his lips curve into a genuine, amused smile. “I’m not with the Court. I’d rather juggle live grenades in a thunderstorm than play in Cav’s little kingdom of rhymes and riddles. That man has a way of turning allies into adversaries without even trying.”

For a second, I agree with him, offering a small smile of my own.

Then I get smart again, my expression falling closed.

Tempest’s amusement also fades, a more contemplative shadow crossing his features.

“But it’s curious, isn’t it?” he muses, more to himself than to me. “The Court still chases after a myth, looking for a Heart that, for all intents and purposes, doesn’t beat outside of a fairy-tale.”

“Wait a minute, you don’t think the Heart exists as a jewel?”

But as he talks, all I can think about is the piece of that “myth” snug in the TFU library. His words clash big time with the solid, very real piece of ruby I’ve been carting around lately.

Part of me wants to pull it out and show him, giving myself the upper hand and all these alphaholes the shock of their lives. But the better, smarter version of myself scolds me into keeping my lips sealed. That there’s more to this than jewelry and showmanship.

Even though I love being right.

Tempest’s brows arch in one of resigned surprise. “I suppose you also believe there’s a hidden ruby, the largest in the world, that Sarah expertly hid before being killed.”

Want to bet? Because, dude, I’ve literally touched it.

I stay quiet, my expression giving no answer.

It hits me that maybe Tempest’s just messing with me, trying to throw me off because, for all his talk, he doesn’t know I have a big-ass ruby. Or maybe he does know, and this is all some game to see what I’ll do.

My head’s spinning with the possibilities, and not in a good way.

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