Page 127 of White Raven
“Oh…well…relay the message. I’m on my way to Baltimore.”
“Baltimore?” Rhaena asked, turning to look at Brandon, who scrunched his brows. “I thought you were in Virginia?”
“I was. Well…I am. We’re on 301 heading north. It’s a three-hour drive.”
“We?”
“Tony found me. He had news…about John Allan. We figured out where Athan is. Rhaena, I—Sykes didn’t kill Nell.”
“I know…but…how doyou?And what do you mean Tonyfoundyou? I thought he was overseas?”
“It’s a long story. One you’re not gonna believe. But Sykes was in Richmond too. Rhaena, I think she needs our help. And I’m gonna have to convince Athan not to kill her once we dig him out.”
“Dig him out?!What the fuck, Sarah? Sheburiedhim?!”
Rhaena’s adrenaline rushed, and she felt her claws slowly sliding through her fingertips, scraping the phone. Brandon shook with rage, but gently kissed along her shoulder, easing her nerves, and putting the beast back in the cage.
“Sykes pretty much indicated he was buried in Poe’s empty grave. That’s where I’m headed. I’m gonna get him out. But…when I do…”
“John Allan…”
“Only he’s not John Allan. He’s someone else entirely. And he’s waiting at Poe’s house in Baltimore. I’m sure of it.”
Her detective mind kicked in, and apparently so did Brandon’s. They both looked at each other in shock. Rhaena almost dropped her phone.
“You said Poe’semptygrave…you’re saying…”
“That he was never in it. Poe is alive. And he took Athan to smoke me out. I’m about to come face to face with someone I adore, and now also hate.”
“Holy fucking shit,” Brandon whispered.
“Edgar Allan Poe is yourfather,” Rhaena added, her whole body tensing in shock. “Sarah, this is…crazy. You can’t face him alone. John Allan already seemed bat shit crazy, but we both know, Edgar Allan Poe is—”
“Insane. Yes.”
“We’ve gotta get to you. We’ll get on the next available flight, and—”
“Rhaena, wait…Sykes. Sykes might come back to Boston. For Leigh. She seems scared. Sloppy. I think she’s trying to get out from under him. If I’m right, then somebody’s gotta help her.”
“I don’t have any interest in helping that crazy bitch. She made her bed.”
“What if she didn’t? What if he made it for her? And forced her to lay in it?”
“Then she shouldn’t have gotten mixed up with a psychopath. Why should we feel bad for her?”
“Because it was never her choice—Jesus, Mary and Joseph…” Foster cut in, covering her eyes. Rhaena gaped behind her at the audacity of this bitch letting herself into her apartment—her captain right behind her. Before Rhaena could warn Sarah, she’d hung up.
“By all means, come the fuck in!” Rhaena growled, tossing the phone on the couch, and grabbing a blanket to cover themselves up. Brandon helped wrap the blanket around them, and they stood face-to-face with a very remorseful-looking Malcolm Foley.
“I—I’m sorry, Gloves. We didn’t know—”
“No, youdidn’t. I thought you were going home to sleep it off!”
“And I thoughtyouhadn’t heard anything from St. James!”
Rhaena stepped forward, being held back by the confines of the blanket. “I hadn’t! She just called fromAthan’sphone! If any of you had put half the effort into finding him as you did twiddling your fucking thumbs, we’d have him back by now. Thank God she ran off.”
“Look, enough with the pissing contest,” Foster spat, slicing a hand through the air. “Stop getting your hairballs in a twist. This is way bigger than Athan Kane.”
