Page 19 of Forsaken Fate

“And,” I said, turning my attention back to Adam, “because like I told you the other day, I need to see everything settled with what’s left of my dad’s affairs. I need your help, Adam.”

His eyes flashed in response. “I don’t know how much I can give.”

“My father’s lands should revert back to me,” I said. “If I have to mount a legal challenge against Grayson, I need to know what’s involved. If I have to break Diana’s estate, I’m willing to do it.”

“You think Diana actually left you anything?” Doyle asked.

“No,” I said. “But there really isn’t anything of hers that I want. But ... she had some things that belonged to my mother. Jewelry, sentimental stuff. I would like to get that back. Grayson’s been resistant.”

“That whole thing has been fucked up forever,” Doyle said. “I’ve never seen someone so jealous of a dead woman before. Why didn’t your dad just give you your mother’s things when he was alive?”

“He didn’t want to give it up,” I answered. “He wanted to hold on to something of her. That’s what drove Diana nuts. I think he meant to give it to me – or to my sister – if Jenny had lived. But ... when his mind started to go, he didn’t follow through. When I asked him about it, it upset him, so I let it go. I regret that now but what are you gonna do?”

I wanted to change the subject badly. Talking about my mother’s things got my blood boiling and I didn’t want to ruin an otherwise perfect day with old friends.

“Anyway,” I said. “Back to this Brynna Carrington.” I had to be careful. If I let on that I cared, these guys would press me as to why. I felt an odd sense of protectiveness and suspicion about Brynna that they wouldn’t – that I didn’t – understand yet.

“Doyle, you think you could do some digging in a professional capacity?”

Doyle smiled and nodded. “I wondered when you were going to get around to asking. Diana already did, you know.”

I raised my eyebrows. “She asked you?” This shocked me. During the war, Doyle had been part of the underground resistance. To put it plainly, he was a spy. He specialized in ferreting out high value targets loyal to the fae. He had ways of finding out things about people. Since the war ended, he’d been helping go after shifters and other magic users who had betrayed members of their own kind. Part bounty hunter, part private investigator of sorts now.

“Yeah,” Doyle said. “Shocked me too. But Diana was nothing if not a pragmatist. She knew I was good at what I do.”

“What did you find out?” I said, trying to keep my voice even. I apparently failed.

Doyle and Adam got the same twinkle in their eyes. “You planning on poking around that?” Doyle said.

I punched him in the arm. “I’m curious, okay?”

“The answer is nothing,” Doyle continued. “Diana called me once and asked me if I’d consider taking on the job. I said I would, and she said she’d be in touch. That was maybe three months ago, and I didn’t hear from her again.”

“Hmmm,” I said. “Well, do you think you’d be willing to start that job now? See what you can find out about Brynna Carrington? Who is she, what’s her background?”

Doyle nodded. “If I get to take your money, Theo, you bet your ass. I’ll spare no expense.”

“Great,” I said. “I’ll bet, asshole.”

“You want the works?” Doyle asked. “Full background, tail, the whole bit?”

I felt a little like a shit. I’d already fucked Brynna ... was thinking about how much I wanted to again ... now I was willing to pry into her private life all the way.

Damn straight I was. She was hiding something, and I was determined to find out what it was.

“Yeah,” I said. “I do. Whatever that means ... I want the works.”

CHAPTER 9

Brynna

I was downstairs and dressed before Grayson woke up the next morning. Diana’s live-in housekeeper didn’t know what to do with me.

“Good morning, Mary,” I said to the housekeeper in as bright a voice as I could muster. She was plump, fiftyish, and wore her silver hair cropped short. Last night, she had dressed her role in a black dress with a white collar. It seemed silly to me ... as though Diana had watched one too many episodes of Downton Abbey. Today, though, Mary Barlow chose dress pants and a polyester blouse.

Mary towered over me, she had to be close to six feet. Even without the height differential, she looked down on me. Her boss was in the ground – or, more accurately, a marble drawer – but it seemed she still took her cues from Diana. If that weren’t enough, I knew she had ties to Diana’s coven. She was an earth mage, though I’d never seen her use her powers.

“Do you want me to get Mrs. Walters to set out some breakfast?” Translation: when are you getting the fuck out of here?

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