War Bringer (13 page)

“Why are you even thinking this?”

“The tendrils tying us together. Hope’s mom’s tie to the WKB, Lion is King’s kid, my involvement through my mom. Remi’s background and her work with the Friendship Community. What if, somehow, in some way, we’re all connected to King and what he’s doing…and we don’t know it, but Owen does.”

“You think he’s King?”

“No. He’s not old enough. He mentioned a while back there was a rogue Red Teamer, but he’s done nothing to have us track him down.”

“Yeah, but Wendell Jacobs hasn’t done anything to cause problems except drop off grid.”

“Which ordinarily would have been enough to have us chase him.”

“Maybe Owen figures the shit King’s into is a bigger deal.”

“Maybe. Maybe the link is our parents and grandparents. What do we really know about any of them? Look at the mess my grandfather and mother were into. And your grandfather, raising you like an assassin, and here you are using those skills to fight King. Val grew up with Owen, but even he feels there’s something the boss is hiding from him, from us. And how did Selena make it onto the Red Team in the first place?”

“Ah…because she’s badass?”

“She’s the only female to make it through the training. You know as well as I do she’s not the only female badass out there. And we know she didn’t do it on her back. Who were her parents connected to? There’s a whole network of answers linking us. Maybe, if we can find it, we’ll know what King is up to before shit rains down on the team while we’re spread too thin to help each other.”

Greer regarded him for a silent moment as he processed their convo, then he nodded. “I haven’t looked at it from that angle—the inside out. Let me do some analysis. I’ll get back to you. Am I keeping this on the down-low?”

“For now, but it’s not a secret if anyone asks about it. You have all of our vitae. Dig into it. See where we overlap. Find something new. If my theory holds up, we’ll bring it up with the team.”

They went back to the main floor. Greer returned to the den, and Ty went back up to the room he shared with Eden. She was still in the same position he’d left her in, still softly breathing.

He stepped into the closet and closed the door. Opening the safe, he took his mom’s big jewelry box out and set it on the floor. He had only vague memories of her and the box, but very, very sharp ones of Bladen’s anger when he discovered it missing after her death.

Why had it upset him so much? Was it just that a woman—his wife, at that—had defied him? Or did he resent the loss of the fortune that he could have used to buy the allegiance of more pedophiles?
 

Ty opened the drawers, looking over the jewels, many of which had come to his mom from a long line of wealthy Holts reaching back into the early nineteenth century. The jewelry box wasn’t an antique. It had several narrow ring and earring drawers—wider ones for bracelets, side panels for necklaces. And why had Blade’s mom begged her friend Allie to keep the box for him? Given what his mom was up against, it put Allie in a dangerous situation. As he opened each of the compartments, the thought came to his mind about the hidden compartment in Bladen’s desk where he’d found his ledger.

He was sure his mom would have valued her friend’s life over a fortune in jewels.
 

He went still.
 

Unless, perhaps, she valued her son’s life above all else? Was there a message in the jewelry box for him?

He began to pull out each drawer, tug at the red velvet lining, press and tap and pull each component, searching for anything that might release even the tiniest of hiding spaces. He removed the hinged doors. Nothing. Finally, he retrieved a small-gauge screwdriver and unfastened the top lid. When he slid it off, he found what he was looking for: a narrow pocket between the inner and outer back of the case.

He turned the box upside down and shook it. Nothing came out. Had something once been there? Did Allie remove it? He fetched his phone and pointed its light into the compartment. Something was in there, but down too deep to fish out with his fingers.

He grabbed his KA-BAR and used the blade to drag the paper out. It was a sealed envelope with just one word on the outside: Ty.

He didn’t recognize the writing. There’d been so little of his mother’s belongings in the papers Bladen had left behind. The things of hers that had survived his stepfather had been to her or about her, but not from her. The envelope hadn’t seen the light of day for more than two and a half decades. It was still white and crisp, as if it had been recently penned. He could barely breathe as he opened it.
 

My Baby TyBurger,

How I wish that I could hug you one more time.

It saddens me to think that you might one day read this note. If you are reading it, you’re a grown man now. I suppose I can’t still call you TyBurger, though it always made you laugh.
 

I love you, my son. I had no idea the kind of world I was bringing you into. Well, perhaps by the time I was pregnant with you, I knew.
 

If you’re reading this, then there are things you also must know.

There is an entire reality other than the one most people see. You must be prepared for it. I wasn’t, even though my father was mired in it. Now he’s dead and I am doomed to my fate—and the knowledge that I will not be there to protect you and see you grow into the man you are now.

Phillip Bladen, my husband, is an evil man. You must sever all ties to him, and protect yourself and those you love from him as well. He is not your father. Cordell Ryker is your dad and the man I fell in love with. But it was too late. I was already married to Phillip.

I did not choose to marry him; I was forced to. My marriage to Phillip was an obligation your grandfather owed to the secret organization he belonged to. Had I refused, he would have been killed, which happened anyway. I wish—well, never mind. The time for empty wishes is long gone.

My father and husband belong to a secret group, which is known as the Omni World Order. It has existed for many centuries across most continents under different names. When I was a teenager, the different groups were renewing and formalizing their structures, reconnecting with each other, growing in power.

They aren’t like a religious sect that wants its philosophy to rule all others. Their unifying belief is far simpler. They want power. Period. Power begets power. Many of the world’s richest people belong to the organization and many of the world’s ruling families are actors for the OWO. It has its tendrils everywhere.

I learned this from papers I discovered in Phillip’s office. He was, apparently, a librarian of some sort for the organization. I took the papers—boxes of them—one day while he was away. I stored them in a vault at a storage facility in Denver. I paid for the use of that vault for fifty years, and left them with instructions about what to do should the prepayment expire or should the vault’s contents need to be moved. I’ve included the information you need to access that vault.

Take the papers, but know that I fear they’re cursed. If you’re reading this note, then I will have paid with my life to secure these papers from the OWO. I beg your forgiveness for what that has meant for your life.

Ty, it falls to you to finish what I started. Bring these papers out to the wider public. The OWO cannot be allowed to exist.
 

Be strong, my son. Be fierce. Be brave. Be kind.
 

Please try to find your father. Cordell is an honorable man. Find him. Give him my love. He will help you.

Your loving mother,

Catherine Holt Bladen

Ty slumped back against one of the columns of drawers in his closet. He read the letter two more times, then set it aside and put the jewelry box back together. He put the jewelry in the box and set the whole thing in the safe. When he came out of the closet, the sky was beginning to brighten.
 

Eden was sleeping so peacefully—as much as he wanted to shout out about his discovery, he also didn’t want to wake her. Kit was out with the team down in Denver. Greer was on duty in the bunker, but everyone else was asleep. There was one person, though, he could wake and share it with.

His dad.

Ty dressed, then stopped long enough to see if the storage company was still in business and still located where it was when his mom took a unit. It was.

He drove over to Mandy’s place and parked in front of Ryker’s bunkhouse. The little house was dark; this was his dad’s day off from the diner, so he was probably sleeping in. Ty knocked on the door then tried the handle. It was locked.
 

A light came on inside the kitchen, then the door swung open. His dad stood there, looking rumpled and irritated. Ty couldn’t help but wonder, for the millionth time, what his life would have been like if he and his mom and dad had been able to live together as a family. Maybe he would have had a whole bunch of siblings. Maybe he would have never had to fear or fight for survival.

And maybe fairies farted pink rainbows.
 

Either reality was as out of reach as the other.

“We gonna stand here and stare at each other? Or are you comin’ in?” His dad’s voice rumbled into the quiet morning.

Ty stepped into the kitchen. “I found something.” He looked at Ryker. “A letter from Mom. It was in her jewelry box.”

His dad frowned. He went into the other room to fetch his glasses, then came back and took the letter. When he finished reading it, there were tears in his eyes. He set his hands on his hips and hung his head for a long minute, then looked up at Ty. “Let’s go get those boxes. You think they’re still there?”

“Don’t know, but I’m feeling a sense of urgency. Go get dressed. I need to show this to Owen. I can’t go, Dad, so I’m sending you down for them.”

The importance of that errand didn’t escape Ryker. He met Ty’s eyes then nodded.

“I should be able to get one of the guys to ride shotgun with you. Don’t want you to go alone.”

Ryker was already heading into his room to dress, but he stopped in the hallway and looked back. “Sounds good. I want to see what’s in those boxes, boy.”

“I’d like that. Come over to the house when you’re ready.”

* * *

With Kit in Denver, Ty had to take this directly to Owen. He knocked once. Owen came to the door, wearing his loose cotton pajama bottoms. “Blade.”

Ty handed him the letter. Owen stepped out into the sitting room outside his bedroom and closed the door to his room.

“What is this?”

“A note from my mom. Found it in her jewelry box.”
 

Owen turned a light on and read it. He looked at Ty. “This place still in business?”

“Yeah. I checked.”

“We’re spread pretty thin. May have to wait retrieving the boxes.”

“I got a bad feeling about leaving them there. My dad can go for them while I stay with Rocco.”

Owen looked at Ty. He nodded. “Send Max with him. We could use an inside scoop right about now.”

Ty nodded. “On it.”
 

Chapter
 
Twelve

Kelan heard the bolt click on their door. He and Fiona were already awake. There were no clocks in their suite, so it was impossible to tell what time it was. The lighting in the fake solarium had begun to brighten, but there was no way to know if that was actually timed to occur at dawn.

The men who had brought them to this room last night stepped inside. The light-brown-haired guy waved to him. “Let’s go. Quickly.”

Kelan took Fiona’s hand and hurried over to the door.
 

“Not her. Just you.”

“You said I was the only one who could save her.”

“You are, but she can’t go with you now. And unless you move fast, you’ll be too dead to help her get out of here later.”

Kelan wrapped his arm around Fiona and started to push through the door, but the two guards shoved them back.
 

“We don’t have time for this. He’s on his way here right now. If you don’t come right now, he will kill you. And us.”

“We’ll hide Kelan,” Fiona suggested.

“No. He knows now that the wrong War Bringer stayed the night in here with you.” The guy looked at Fiona. “He won’t harm you, but he’ll kill Kelan.”

Fiona stepped free of Kelan’s hold. “Go. Hurry. Please, Kelan.”

One of the guards straightened. “We’re too late. They’re almost here.”

The lead guy dragged Kelan into the bathroom then into Fiona’s closet. He hit a button beside her jewelry cabinet, which popped open. One of the guards stepped into the dark tunnel. Kelan struggled for a last glimpse of Fiona. It was wrong to leave her behind, to face the danger herself.
 

A sharp twinge hit his shoulder, followed almost instantly with paralyzing heat. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t fight, couldn’t get back to her.

His last thought as his mind went dark was that he’d lost Fiona once again.

* * *

Fiona’s heart beat hard and fast. She went back into the main area of her suite, then remembered Kelan’s boxer shorts and rushed to grab them out of the bathroom and hide them among the clothes in her closet.
 

She had just walked over to the sitting area of her room when her door slammed open. A middle-aged blond man and four guards rushed inside.
 

She studied the man, wondering if he was King…her father. She felt absolutely no connection to him. But just in case he was, she memorized everything she could about him so that she could tell Kelan later. He wasn’t very tall—a couple inches short of six feet. His hair was thinning in the front but was still a golden color. His pale blue eyes could have been jovial, but instead were like steel. His pug nose was oddly small for his face. His skin was weathered, folded into lines about his eyes, forehead, and mouth. His teeth were small, yellowish, and straight. The corners of his mouth turned down.
 

“Where is he?” the man asked.