Page 42 of Vicious Desire (Fallen Royals 4)

“You have a visitor…”

I straighten. “Who?”

“Kaiden. Noah’s—”

“I know who Kaiden is, Mom,” I murmur. “Um, I’ll be home in a half hour.”

“All right.” The line goes dead.

I pause in the living room and press my palm to my chest. Kaiden West, in the flesh.

But why does he want to see me?

“I’ve got to go,” I tell them. “Come on, Parker. I’ll drop you off on the way.”

Parker nods sharply, rising from the table. She takes our glasses to the sink, pausing for half a second before setting them on the edge.

Skylar follows us to the door. “See you tomorrow.”

The drive to Parker’s house is quick, relatively painless, and completely silent. There are moments when I think she’s going to break it to ask me a question—one of hundreds, I’m sure—but she doesn’t. She stares out the window.

I stop in front of the house she points to, and I bite my lip. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She meets my gaze. “Of course.”

“Okay.”

She frowns, then climbs out. Swinging her bag over her shoulder, she heads up a set of stairs to the front path of assorted stones. I don’t move until she disappears inside the sprawling one-story house.

And now… home to see why the hell Kaiden is waiting for me.

11

Eli

A bang wakes me up.

I jerk upright, and cold water sloshes over the edge of the tub. Groaning, I climb out and wrap myself in a towel. It’s been a long time since I’ve abused my body enough to need an ice bath—but I don’t think I’ve ever dozed off in one.

I’m cold to the bone.

Everything hurts.

And then I remember why I woke up, and my curiosity piques.

I wrap the towel around my waist and step into the hallway. It’s dark, and I feel my way to the edge of the stairs.

Our door squeaks slightly as it opens. I think my parents left it that way to be able to tell if Caleb and I were sneaking out, but we always used the sliding back door. It was silent and closer to the basement stairs—easier to pretend we had been hanging out down there instead of off galivanting or causing trouble.

“You can’t be here,” Dad says. “I have rules against this sort of thing.”

“It’s urgent,” a man answers.

I shiver. I’m not sure what it is about the voice that invokes such a reaction, but I feel the need to brush cobwebs off my skin.

“Fine.” Dad doesn’t sound happy, but the door squeaks again, then clicks shut. Two sets of footsteps come farther into the house, toward his office.

I hurry down the stairs to the landing, sticking to the shadows, just in time to see Dad and a man pass by the arched entrance to the living room.

---