Page 15 of The Vipers' Vow

“What did she say?” I blurt, unable to hold myself back.

“She asked for a favor.”

Zane widens his eyes and gestures as though to ask, ‘what favor?’

Saint shakes his head. “Something to do with her family. I’ve been sworn to secrecy. I’m sorry.”

Why would Angelica not want us to know something about her family? I can’t even imagine. And what does Saint have to do with it? I want to press him, but I also know Lex is suffering. Now is not the time.

“Did you get the number?” I ask instead.

“Yeah, I got it.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Should we contact Jarl before or after we get the necklace back?”

Zane types on his cell phone.I think having something in our possession that Jarl wants will give us more power.

Saint’s lips pinch. “But how long is that going to take? What the fuck is going to happen to Lex in that time?”

“That time is going to pass whatever choice we make,” I say.

Saint lets out a growl and drags both hands through his hair. “Fuck this shit. He’s my brother. I should be the one who gets to make the decision on this. I’m the one who got the number, and I want to call now.”

Okay,Zane writes,but we don’t do it here. Not where anyone could be listening. Let’s go to the mansion and call him from there.

It’s clear Saint is itching to make progress, but Zane is right. If we rush into this, we’ll make mistakes. Dealing with someone like Jarl Olsen should be measured and considered.

He says he wants that cross back, but he’s going to want more. If he believes Lex killed his daughter, he has to want him dead. Saint, too. Maybe even Zane. Even if Jarl does give us his location, it’s most likely a trap. He could get us all there and kill every last one of us.

I think about the cross that’s currently around my dad’s neck. What’s he going to say when I turn up with Zane? I haven’t even had time to think about what the hell I’m going to say to Dad. I’ve kept secrets from him, but I believe he’s kept secrets from me too. I don’t think Mom was this innocent person I’ve always thought she was. She had a past that was carefully hidden from me. Maybe, to an extent, from Dad, too. But the more I think about it, the more I realize she wasn’t the angelic figure I’ve made her out to be. She was the Old Lady of one of the most ruthless MC leaders in the nation. No one gets to that position by being all sweetness and light. She had to have a wild and dark streak in her.

Maybe she’s where I get it, and not my dad. The thought makes me smile a little.

We head through the grounds of the college to the Vipers’ hideout. The minute we step foot inside the mansion, memories assault me. Who would have thought when I first came here, and this crazy thing started between me and these three men, that we’d have ended up here?

An hour ago, I’d have thought we were finally coming together, outside events pushing us close, but now there’s a definite barrier between Saint and us. What’s interesting is it includes Zane, too. Saint won’t meet our eyes for any length of time. He’s acting antsy. Like a cat on the proverbial hot roof. It might simply be because he’s itching to call Jarl, but I think it’s deeper than that.

“I should be the one who speaks with Jarl,” I say. “I’ve already talked with him, and he doesn’t hate me the way he does you three.”

Saint whirls on me, naked anger in his gaze. His jaw is set tight, and his forearms bunch as he clenches and unclenches his fists. He’s itching for a fight. I know he won’t hit me, but wow, he’s giving off some majorly pissed-off energy.

“The way you were the best person to talk to Angelica?” he sneers. “I think not.”

He picks up the phone and brings up the number. Zane catches Saint’s wrist in a vise-like hold before he can make the call. He signs something, and Saint holds his gaze. They seem to have an entire battle of wills in a two-second stare, and then Saint sighs and hands me the phone.

“Fine, you can start the conversation, but if I think for one minute it’s going downhill, I’m taking the phone from you and doing it myself.”

I nod. With shaking hands, I hold the cell phone and press ‘call’ on the number Saint has onscreen. It rings, and rings, and rings.

Then Jarl answers.

“Yes?” There is cold curiosity in his voice. No fear. Just that icy interest despite him not knowing who is calling.

“Mr. Olsen?”

“Yes.”

“It’s Vani. Reagan’s … umm… Reagan’s half-sister.”

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