Cuckoo (Kindred Book 3) (19 page)

It was a shame that Mischa seemed as certain as Zara felt. Only one of them could be right. “And you’re just using Caine. You’d flush him if Raven did come back to you.”

“When Raven does come back to me, he’ll take care of any unfinished business Caine and I have. Taking out the trash, as you put it.”

“Maverick,” Zara said. This woman had no compassion, no ability to feel. She had used Caine for years, and if she did achieve her goal—which Zara knew she wouldn’t—she planned to have her new boyfriend put a bullet in the old one. To Cuckoo it was clean and simple. Caine wouldn’t see it that way, and neither would Brodie. “You’ve used Caine for years, you plan to terminate him when he’s no longer of use…”

Cuckoo was not dissuaded from her position. They were at an impasse and enjoyed their stalemate for a few seconds before Cuckoo spoke up with a toss of her hair. “Now I have given you something. You must return the gesture.”

Zara hadn’t made any deal; Cuckoo had spoken on her own. One positive quality most narcissists shared was loving the sound of their own apparent righteousness. It made fact-finding easier when the mark started spilling details all on their own.

“Sorry, Raven has a mind of his own, and I don’t auction off sexual favors from my boyfriend to women who have interesting information. I can’t make his dick dance for you.”

Cuckoo exhaled unimpressed impatience. “I don’t need you to tell me how to arouse him. I’ve done it more times than you have.”

That could be true, but she and Brodie had had a lot of sex since they’d been together. The comparison was stupid anyway because she planned to be with Brodie for a long time, so her odometer would tick past Cuckoo’s in due time. Zara also had the pleasure of falling asleep in Brodie’s bed in his house, and she could call out the name he was given at birth while doing it. Cuckoo was not going to succeed in belittling Zara into doubting the certainty of her future with her love.

“So, what do you want from me?” Zara asked.

“Game Time,” Cuckoo said, much as she had at the start of their conversation.

“I don’t have it.”

“Caine says different.”

“Caine thinks you’re some kind of goddess,” Zara said, mimicking Cuckoo’s earlier eye roll. “He has issues with reality.” Leaving her seat, she glanced at her watch, estimating the time it would take her to calm down and get coffee at Purdy’s. Kahlil would be there soon. She was in demand today. “Now if you excuse me, I have another meeting.”

“I’m going to keep pursuing this,” Cuckoo said, leaving her chair. “I will get my hands on it.”

“Yes,” Zara said, calling over her shoulder as she went to the door. “You will get your hands on Game Time on the same day Raven admits his love for you and dumps me.”

Turning full circle as she opened the door and swung around it to witness the European’s frustrated satisfaction, Zara made a beeline for the elevator, trying not to make eye contact with anyone who might bring her CI work.

She got to the lobby and out into the fresh air. After she gasped in a heaving breath, she panted out her amazement. Caine wasn’t who they thought he was. His motivation was almost the complete reverse of what they’d suspected, and now Cuckoo wanted Game Time. From Zara’s perspective, the reason Cuckoo coveted it was because other people did.

Cuckoo was immature, selfish, and crazy in love with Raven. Though Zara couldn’t fault her for the last one, she could fault her methods. Getting this meeting with Kahlil out the way was the next point on her agenda, and then she had to get back to Brodie because boy did she have news for him.

For the first time in a long time, she was relieved and relaxed when she went into Purdy’s. The time of day no doubt had an effect on her mood. It was lunchtime. The atmosphere was relaxed. Daylight still shone outside, lessening the likelihood that there would be a criminal attack or an amorous admirer trying to seduce her into revealing her secrets.

At least, that was what she thought.

“Zara!”

When she twisted in her chair to see who was calling for her, she wished she’d gotten something stronger than a coffee. “Julian,” she said in greeting, and he came over to sit at her table. “I’m waiting for somebody.”

“Oh,” he said. “A date in the middle of the day so close to work?” He didn’t quite nudge her and wink, but the shift of his brows was enough to make her force a smile.

“It’s not a date. It’s business. And I don’t work at CI anymore.”

He lost his cheer. “Yes, I heard you had a run-in with the new CEO, what a shame. She’s great.”

It wasn’t a surprise to her that Julian liked Cuckoo. He liked a woman who looked good in business wear. “It was time for me to move on.”

“Is that what you’re doing here? Do you have an interview?”

“No,” she said.

Julian took her hand from her cup. “I will be sorry not to see you at work. You’re capable and beautiful, and if there’s ever anything you need…”

This presented an opportunity, one that she hadn’t considered until he just made this fortuitous offer. Turning her body toward his, she tightened her grip on his hand. “There is one thing that I need, something you might be able to help me with… if you can keep a secret?”

He blinked, he hadn’t expected her to ask for something. “What do you need?”

“I need a list of Grant’s personal accounts.”

Julian was intrigued, which was a better reaction than suspicion. “His personal accounts? Why?”

“His personal accounts as they link to CI. I think he was funding a company project with personal funds.”

“That’s messy,” Julian said. “And would be frowned upon by the board and the IRS.”

“I know. That’s why we have to keep it a secret, to protect his memory,” she said. If Grant was a faultless party, she might feel guilty about suggesting altruistic motives. “But he was the CEO, he could do whatever he wanted. This was an important project for him, a bit of an obsession.”

“What is it you’re looking for?”

“I wouldn’t want to betray his confidence. Is it something you can help me with?” Using the techniques Brodie had nurtured during her seduction of Leatt, she blinked and maneuvered her arms to enhance her cleavage. Julian noticed, more in passing than anything else, but it was enough.

Julian’s attraction to her became an advantage to the Kindred. This was the last piece of the puzzle and quite possibly their last chance to stem future work on Game Time. When in relation to death and destruction, Zara was happy to manipulate whoever needed to be manipulated.

“His accountant has been involved in executing the will,” Julian said. “I’ve been in a few of those meetings, I should be able to get those accounts for you without answering too many questions.”

“Thank you,” she said.

It was hard to believe that just a few days ago she was doubting her ability and her right to be part of the Kindred. Today proved that when she maintained her focus, she could achieve many things.

“I’ll email you with what I find out,” he said and left the table. “Enjoy your meeting and keep in touch.”

It was sweet that he would miss her. Life at CI was so frenetic that she was sure she’d be forgotten in a few days, not because she didn’t have an impact there, but because life moved on quickly in business. There was little time to mourn. With Grant gone and her distanced from the company, she was allowed a new perspective on what her life had been pre-Brodie.

There was no permanent monument to her work at CI, she would fade away just like every other employee who moved on. During her time there, she’d believed she was making a difference in the world, now she could see that was an illusion.

She’d been with the Kindred for less than a year. But if she left their ranks tomorrow, she wouldn’t be so quickly forgotten. For one thing, she was sleeping with the chief. He couldn’t ignore her loss and he’d proved that by coming back for her then chasing her to her father’s doorstep. She had rapport with Tuck, more so since their clash that morning. Thad was a bright beacon who wouldn’t let her fade away. Zave was just Zave. Even she was becoming accustomed to what that meant.

Choosing Brodie and the Kindred over Grant and CI had been a drastic decision for her. But as she sat sipping her coffee while waiting for Kahlil, she knew she’d made the right choice.

“Oh, I love you, beau,” she murmured, tucking her head down to hide her smiling lips and silently wishing that he was in her ear to support and torment her.

Purdy’s had been a stable, recurring location in her life since she started at CI almost six years ago. It had been a place for her to reflect and be grateful for the freedom from the oppression of her father’s house and his ideas about what her future would hold.

She had become the strong, independent woman that she had striven to be, and with Brodie and the Kindred, she was fulfilling her childhood dreams of adventure and doing something worthwhile. No matter what Cuckoo said or tried to insinuate, Zara wouldn’t give up her man, or the life they had together, without a fight.

Her coffee was almost finished by the time Kahlil came into Purdy’s. It didn’t take him long to pick her out in the quiet space with its smattering of customers. He came straight over without ordering at the bar and sat down opposite her.

She waited. This meeting was happening at his request; it was his responsibility to explain why he’d called it. Aloof and brooding worked for Brodie, so she tried to mimic his success by waiting for Kahlil to speak first.

“I have had a busy morning and I don’t have time for games,” Kahlil said, but he seemed more impatient than stressed, suggesting his meeting this morning didn’t upset him too much.

But his mussed hair and the bruise on his chin spoke to the pressure he was under. “What happened to your face?” she asked, indicating the bruise. She might have seen the blow that caused it through Maverick’s sight, but she wouldn’t reveal that to him. Asking outright put him on the spot, and she waited to see what lie he would come up with.

“A disagreement with an old colleague.”

His choice not to lie was a surprising one. The explanation was enough to allow her to move on without rousing suspicion. “Are you ready to tell me who you’re working for?”

Brodie and Tuck might already have that piece of information if they’d witnessed the morning meeting. But Kahlil had been honest with her once, so she took the chance that he might do it again.

“Keeping my employer’s identity secret is imperative to the success of our mission.”

“What is your mission?” Any details she had about Kahlil were related to his previous employer and even those were vague.

“I plan to protect all the puppies and kittens of the world and open my own unicorn sanctuary,” he said, not in a show of dry wit, but in continuance of his impatience.

She wasn’t impressed. “You’re only going to get what you want if I sign off on it,” she said, pushing her cup aside.

Kahlil might like to think he was in charge here, and it was obvious that he didn’t like dealing with her, maybe because she was subordinate to him in the grand scheme of things, maybe because she was a woman, or maybe just because he didn’t like her personality, which she could identify with. Kahlil was hardly a treat himself. It was something about the men in this game, they were so caught up in their own importance that civility and charm were often the first personality traits sacrificed.

“Does that mean you’re open to a deal?” he asked.

Coming in not as an adversary, but as a client, would have been a better strategy for Kahlil. Her own curiosity grew, and she became eager to get to Brodie to find out what Kahlil had endured that morning. “Yes. We’ll deal. Give us the story first, money on delivery of Game Time.”

“Raven comes to the drop,” Kahlil said. “I want him there with you when we make the exchange.”

Most people wouldn’t want their seller to have superior numbers in this situation. “Why would you want him there?”

“I know what his primary skill is.”

That made sense. Kahlil knew that Raven was a sniper, so unless he was right in front of the buyer, Kahlil would have to assume he was lying on the top of a building somewhere ready to take the shot.

“Tell me the story now,” she said. It would be recorded on her watch, meaning Brodie could hear it for himself. Getting the details without her love present would spare him the pain of having an audience when the truth came out.

But Kahlil shook his head. “I will be in touch with a time and a place. I will bring the money. You will bring the device.”

“I will have to consult with my colleagues before we commit to where and when.”

“Good. But make it soon. I want to get out of this city. I have plans of my own that don’t include hanging around here.”

Could his boss be local or was he just desperate to get on with outdoing his old boss? It didn’t matter to her either way. The Kindred hadn’t agreed to sell the device to Kahlil, but Zara was determined that Brodie would know the truth about his parents. If there was retribution to be had, she would make sure the Kindred were dedicated to getting it for him.

He’d lost his parents, Art, and Grant. No story could bring any of them back. But finding out the reason for their deaths would bring closure. Losing her own mother had been devastating to her teenage self, but at least she knew how it had happened. Brodie and Grant had both suggested to her that the blast, which killed their parents, was no accident, and they had the chance to confirm the veracity of that and get some details.

“We’ll be in touch with the details,” she said, and although he was perturbed, she couldn’t feel intimidated by his arrogance, not after what she’d seen him doing this morning.

“I brought someone with me, my partner. He insists on seeing you. He thinks his presence will reassure you.”

She didn’t like to be blindsided, and when a shadow moved across the table, she glanced up. Her instinctive gasp revealed more of her surprise than she wanted it to. Coming to Purdy’s during the day was supposed to be safe, now she wondered if she’d been wrong.

Shoving to her feet, he was blocking the path she’d need to travel if she wanted to reach the door. He’d spared their lives once, she couldn’t bank that he’d do it again. “Benedict Leatt.”

“What happened to Ben?” he asked, having the gall to smile. “I’m not your enemy, Zara. Sit down and let me explain.”

Trying her best to don her Kindred mask, she sank back down onto her chair and watched Ben sit in the perpendicular place. “You were working for Kahlil all along?”

“He wanted Game Time,” Ben said, not answering the question. “I didn’t know what it was, but he was willing to pay a serious amount of money to find out where Sutcliffe was keeping it.”

From that explanation, she guessed he’d hooked up with Sutcliffe as he’d said he did. Kahlil would have seen Leatt’s strategic position and turned to the physical therapist. “Is that why you stayed at the compound after murdering Grant because by then you were on Kahlil’s payroll?”

“We didn’t know where Game Time was. We knew that the Kindred had emptied the bunker, Grant told us that. But we wanted to check the place out, just in case he’d hidden it anywhere on the property.”

They knew that the bunker was empty, they didn’t know what had been in it for the Kindred to take or what Sutcliffe had kept closer to home. “You didn’t find it. We have it.”

“We know,” Ben said. “And we knew that was a possibility, which was why you and yours weren’t eliminated like your former boss. He was of no use to us. We realized after he tried to take power that he wouldn’t be worth dealing with. We couldn’t ask him to rebuild Game Time for us, he proved he had his own agenda.” Ben nodded toward the silent Kahlil. “My friend here said he had leverage with your people.”

All along, Ben had been playing her. He’d known about the Kindred. About who killed Tim and why. He was good. “So you held the story as backup?”

Ben nodded. “When we didn’t get Game Time from Sutcliffe. We scratched an alliance with Grant McCormack off the list. That left us with you. And here we are.”

“And here we are,” she repeated. “How did you two get involved with each other?”

“Sutcliffe came to me as a legitimate patient. My friend here approached me, he didn’t give me all the details at first, just guided me in how to talk to Sutcliffe. I soon figured it out. That was long before I even met you, Zar. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you.”

“Why would you—”

“Money,” Kahlil said. “I paid him well for his loyalty.”

Money gave access, forged an alliance, and ultimately got Grant killed. Kahlil had been fired by his previous employer then begun a crusade to usurp what Sutcliffe had won. Except no one knew where Game Time was and Sutcliffe was a paranoid bastard, though with good reason it seemed.