Nothing for Aaron, he meant. Nothing for her sister. Nick bit her lip until it bled. “I want to go home, Dad. I want to be with Michelle.”
At least one good thing had happened.
Penny continued to outline the status of their current projects, and Derek let her voice wash over him. The phone call was nearing the thirty-minute mark, but Penny’s enthusiasm showed no signs of flagging. Twelve hours as a full partner, and she’d already cleaned up a week’s worth of messes. Her determination was comforting.
Exhausting, maybe. But comforting.
“Are you even listening to me?”
Derek grinned, glad she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, boss. Though I don’t have a clue how you’re still talking coherently. Did you sleep at all last night?”
“I’ve got two preteen sons and I work full time. Do you think I ever sleep?”
“Point taken.” A knock sounded on the door, and Derek rose. “You don’t have to check this shit out with me, you know. We trust you. It’s not like you haven’t been running the place for the last two years anyway.”
“Maybe I don’t like the idea of you sitting alone in your house and brooding,” Penny retorted. “It’s not healthy, Derek. You’re going to turn into Alec.”
“Ouch. If it makes you feel better, I’m pretty sure he just showed up on my doorstep.”
“Yeah, that’s great, because what you need is encouragement.”
Derek was still laughing when he pulled open the door. Alec stood on the porch, facing away, but the tense set of his shoulders and the uncomfortable prickle of magic boded nothing good. Derek’s stomach twisted as Alec turned.
Cold eyes. Dead eyes. Derek had seen Alec filled with rage, determination, annoyance and disdain, but he’d never seen the man look so utterly fucking bleak. Lead settled in Derek’s stomach, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from that frozen stare. “Penny, I’m going to have to call you back.”
“Derek, what’s—?”
“I’m going to have to call you back,” he repeated dully, then disconnected the phone.
For one endless moment neither of them spoke. When Alec finally did, the words filled Derek with dread and the tiniest thread of hope. “Pack a bag, Gabriel. You’re going to New York.”
Chapter 20
Nick pulled open the door and leaned against it. “Come in, Luciano. I’m sorry I called so early—”
“I’d have come anyway, even if you hadn’t called.” He looked perfectly put together in his dark slacks and sweater, as if their world hadn’t exploded before eight a.m. “How’s Michelle?”
“Honestly, I can’t tell.” She’d cried, and her sporadic flares in magical power had left Nick with a blazing headache. Then, after only an hour, Michelle had fallen quiet. “She was a mess for a while, and now she’s…I don’t know.”
He nodded, his dark hair falling over his forehead. “How can I help?”
“I asked her to call you.” Michelle stepped into the foyer, and the temperature seemed to drop. She’d washed her face and pulled her hair into a severe knot, every strand smoothed into place. Nick had seen her fake composure before, but usually some hint of emotion bled through. Now she was cold. Hard.
Luciano looked away. “You don’t know how terrible I feel about what’s happened, Michelle.”
The chill in the air intensified and then disappeared altogether with another surge of power. “Thank you. But I don’t have the luxury of grief. I have a child that most of our society would rather see dead than alive.”
Another spike of magic ripped through the room. Nick had to steel herself against it, and she still almost staggered.
Even Luciano frowned uncomfortably. “I’ll do anything I can to help. You both know that.”
Michelle fixed her gaze on him for several seconds, then turned sharply. “I’ll take advantage of your kindness. If you’re not prepared for that, you should leave. Otherwise I’ll be waiting in the sitting room.”
Luciano looked at Nick, but she could only shrug. “I have no idea what she’s talking about.”
He bent his head close to hers. “Have you talked to your father yet? About what you’re going to do now?”
“Not yet. There hasn’t been time.” The last two hours had been a blank jumble. “He dropped me off and went back to handle things, but who knows what’s going to happen.”
His gaze was fixed on the doorway to the sitting room. “If Hoffman and Ochoa are scared Michelle will retaliate—”
“I know.” It had become the worst-case scenario, the eventuality Nick could barely let herself consider. “But they have to take responsibility for losing control of one of their own. I’m not letting them gloss over what happened to Aaron.”
When they stepped into the sitting room, they found Michelle seated on the edge of the loveseat, her hands folded in her lap and her posture rigid. She watched as they each took a chair. “Nick, you’re not going to like any of this but, considering the life I’ve led up to this point, I hope you’ll understand how badly I need to have some control over what happens to me next.”
She bit back her protests and nodded slowly. “I’m listening.”
“I’m not going to be allowed to live on my own,” Michelle said, her voice flat. “They want someone they can trust watching my every move. Someone with familial loyalties.” She nodded to Luciano. “They would have gotten that if you’d married Nick. You would have been responsible for making sure I didn’t cause trouble, even if they pretended I was in Nick’s custody.”
“More than likely.” He leaned forward. “If you’re worried about whether I can still do that, don’t be.”
“And if I asked you to marry me instead of Nick?”
He flinched almost imperceptibly. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I.” Nick rose and walked over to kneel beside Michelle. “How would you ever convince the Conclave to go along with this? They’re expecting a marriage that will yield money, prestige and children.” The words hung in her throat, raw and painful, but she forced them out anyway. “You know they are.”
Michelle’s cold eyes found Nick’s. “There are three of them left. Hoffman and Ochoa want to blame Enrica.” The tiniest crack appeared in her sister’s icy demeanor, along with another one of those stomach-roiling swells of power. Michelle forced her expression into utter blankness again before turning her attention to Luciano. “Do you share your mother’s ambitions for your future?”
He was shaking his head before she finished the sentence. “No, I don’t.”
“Marriage to me would satisfy the Conclave’s need to punish your mother by destroying your chance to take her seat on the Conclave or become Alpha someday, and it would put me under their thumb.” Michelle touched Nick’s cheek. “You’d be free, because they’ll never consider this a wrong done to me. They made a bargain with you and broke a bargain with you. You can use their absurd customs against them.”
It was the first glimmer of hope she’d had in weeks, and Nick’s first instinct was to grab it and not let go. She hated herself for it. “And if it doesn’t work?”
“You’ll make it work,” Michelle whispered, the confidence in her voice unwavering. “You don’t want to be a part of this life, but you’re strong enough to face them. Help me make a life I get to choose. If Luciano is willing.”
He sat, pensive and still, and watched them. “I’ll do it.”
Michelle dropped her fingers to Nick’s hand, clinging to it with a desperation that belied her calm exterior. “Don’t agree until you’ve heard me out, Luciano. What I’m asking is unreasonable and selfish.”
“I understand.” He smiled wanly. “I know how things are, Michelle. I’ll do it.”
Something quiet seemed to pass between them, an unspoken moment of understanding. Michelle returned her hand to her lap and laced her fingers together. “They can’t think you’re doing this to help me, or they’ll never agree to it. I’ll speak to my father. My inheritance is rather spectacular. No one on the Conclave will wonder what would prompt you to accept such an unacceptable wife when doing so provides you with the means to expand your ranch and reason to stay there indefinitely.”