Page 112 of A Bloom in Winter

“Then Apex and I arrived.”

“And into the belly of the beast we all went.”

“Jesus,” he said, not for the first time. “So that was why Apex didn’t tell me shit about the job. It’s a fucking treason plot.”

With a feeling of dread, he put a hand into his ass pocket and took out the burner phone he used. But what kind of conversation could he have with the guy?

“You’re calling Apex?” she said.

“I need to know.” He held up the phone. “I gotta see what he says—and then I’m going to the Brotherhood. I’m not going to be involved in this kind of shady shit, no fucking way. And I ultimately control those security feeds. I can give them access.”

“You can’t tell Apex—or even the Brotherhood—where you are. I’m sorry, but I don’t know who to trust.”

“Oh, I’ll keep my location a secret.” He cleared his throat. “I’m not sure I can trust him, either.”

As he hit send on the male’s number, he got a series of rings. And then the anonymous voicemail. He ended the call.

“He didn’t pick up.”

Mahrci shook her head. “I’m sorry. Maybe he’s . . .”

“All along he refused to tell me anything about what we were doing—”

His phone started ringing, and he immediately answered. “What the fuck is going on.”

There was a chuckle. “Mayhem? Is that your name?”

Rising to his feet, he said, “Remis? What the fuck are you doing?”

“Looking for you. I mean, I found someone. But he’s not you—although he is remarkably loyal to you. You can’t believe whatI’ve been doing to him, and he still won’t tell me where you are—”

Mayhem pegged Mahrci with hard eyes and put his forefinger to his lips, allshhhh.

“—no matter what I do to him.”

“You want me.” Mayhem stalked around the kitchen, his fangs fully descending. “You can have me. Leave Apex alone.”

“Well, at this point, there isn’t much left of him, soooooo—”

“I’ll come to you. At nightfall. But if he’s dead—”

“What are you going to do,” the male cut in with a bored tone.

“I’m going to disappear on you. And where’s the fun in that? Don’t hurt him anymore or you don’t get me.”

Mayhem ended the call and collapsed back down into his chair.

“Oh, my God,” Mahrci said. “What’s—”

Hopping back up to his feet, he ran down into the basement, where their duffle bags were. Rummaging through his own, he found his personal laptop, the one that he’d encrypted so completely that it might as well be in outer fucking space.

Signing in, he accessed the program controlling all those security units he and Apex had installed. The other male’s instructions had been clear: The feeds were supposed to go to three different places, Apex’s number and two others he hadn’t recognized, at least one of which had to be Whestmorel’s.

But thanks to a back door he’d created, he’d added a secret fourth, his own. Because . . . well, maybe his sniff test had been a little whiffy—

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed as he looked at the live feed from the great room.

“What is it,” Mahrci said as she came around the corner.

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