Page 27 of Deadly Rival

“You’ll see.”

At that, she plants her feet and spins to face me. I can’t decide if she’s furious or trying not to cry. Frustration boils off her, a raging cloud. “Just stop. Stop, Sebastian. Stop acting all mysterious and treating me like—”

“Like my property?”

I might as well have slapped her. She jerks back, stumbles when her heel catches a cobblestone, and I only just manage to catch her. Her weight lands in my arms as I wrap them around her back. She stares up at me, mouth a shocked O, as I help her back to her feet.

Christ.

Her body presses into me, and it’s almost too much. Months of deprivation, and now this. I want to grind myself into her like a rutting animal. Rip the tacky top from her skin and strip her bare right here, in the middle of the street.

She must sense the danger, as she struggles, squirming in my grip. It’s not helping matters. Oh, God, it’s not helping them at all.

Calm. Be the one in charge.

“Stop that. You’ll fall.” I use my sternest voice, and it works. She plants her feet. I release her slowly, stepping back far enough to get my head on straight. One spaghetti strap has slipped off her shoulder, so the top hangs down. She looks at it, then back to me, and I force a sardonic smile, though my heart is beating fast.

“That’s unfortunate.” I make a show of rolling the leash up tight in my fist and ignoring her wardrobe malfunction. “Keep moving. We don’t want to be—”

“Sebastian.” A rough, male voice. I turn to see Fred Ballard bearing down on us. He’s only in his early fifties but looks much older. Some Brothers lose all discipline faced with free-flowing booze, food, and whatever else they want. Fred falls into that category.

His tailored shirt does little to hide his beer belly, and broken capillaries decorate his face. I don’t know much about him besides the little I’ve picked up from general gossip. His work—something in particle physics that Gabriel would probably understand—never lived up to its initial promise, and he’s done little in the past few years.

There are several Brothers like him in the Compound, whose life’s work turned out a dismal failure. Thinking about it is a heavy weight pressing on my chest. Some find new directions to pursue or team up with other Brothers in their field. But others, like Fred, become angry and bitter. Even Kendrick once warned me he’s someone best avoided.

He squares up to me, though his head only reaches my chin. Some chivalrous instinct makes me put myself between him and Ophelia. His mouth twists as he realizes what I’m doing. Sour sweat and fresh alcohol waft off the man. It’s not even ten.

He’s a fucking mess. What would it feel like, to be a failure in a world of geniuses? Does he wish he’d stayed outside, where he could have reigned over the other mediocre intellects in his field like a king?

Focus. None of that matters now.

“What do you want?” Ophelia moves to stand beside me, and Fred’s eyes flick to her.

“You think this is clever? You three think you can do whatever you want, don’t you? Kendrick’s special trio.The most promising minds in a generation.”

He spits the words, mimicking Kendrick’s somber tone with an accuracy that would have been hilarious if he'd done it at a party. Not so funny now.

He leans closer, nasty breath washing over me. “He’s already announced restrictions. All non-essential trips out of the Compound, banned. No new contractors allowed in. Have you heard? Or have you been too busy fucking the Calder slut to look at your phone?”

Blood rushes hot in my veins. He pokes my chest before I can answer. “I had plans, and you’ve fucked them up. Now I’m stuck here. We won’t stand for it. Mark my words. She’ll be back to her daddy in—”

I grab his poking hand and twist. I don’t have anywhere close to Jacob’s level of skill, but I’ve spent years studying Hapkido. I love the technical nature of the art, the way using the right pressure points can reduce a grown man to tears. There’s something satisfying about finding just the right angle and—

“Fuck! Let go!” Fred flails at me with his free hand, but I just increase the pressure until he tips forward with a howl.

I bend down. “Stay away from me, and stay away from her. Got it?”

“Yes. Yes!”

I release Fred’s hand, and he steps back, nursing it. My heart hammers, giddy excitement washing through me. I’ve never used Hapkido against a real opponent before. My sabeom would be so proud.

I didn’t even drop Ophelia’s leash in the commotion. This is a good day.

Fred stomps away but shoots back over his shoulder, “It’s not just me who’s pissed. Kendrick can’t protect you forever.”

I really, really hope he’s wrong.

Shit. Ophelia didn’t need to hear that. Now she’ll be all giddy with hope for escape, waiting for someone in the Brotherhood to decide she’s too much trouble and give her back to her dad. I’m going to have to work ten times as hard to get her in line.

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