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Dante
I stormed out of the apartment. I’d be damned if Stefan was going to get away this time. I’d been given a sliver of hope with Charlie, which meant this cat-and-mouse hunt had to end – and end today – if I had a prayer of turning that sliver into a slice of reality.
I arrived at the agreed-upon spot, grabbed the door of Matteo’s car and threw myself inside. I couldn’t risk arriving in my car because Stefan knew it. I wanted every element of surprise on my side that I could get.
The gun in the holster on my belt shifted, jabbing into my side as I situated myself in the seat. I ignored it and pulled the door shut as Matteo slammed on the gas and swerved out of the parking lot.
“Slow,” I directed. “If we get pulled over by the cops, he’ll get away. Besides, it’s only a few blocks away, right?”
“Yes,” Matteo said, easing off the gas.
As soon as he did, I regretted the command because it felt as if we were crawling, even though we only had a few blocks to go. We probably could have walked faster than we were moving. Shit! At this rate, Stefan could still get away while we were stuck in traffic.
“Don’t worry boss, Leonardo has eyes on him. He won’t lose him,” Matteo said, sensing my anxiousness.
“I know,” I said. Matteo was right. Once found, no one escaped him or Leonardo. They were like dogs with a prized bone. They’d bury it before they’d let someone take it away from them.
I looked out the window as Matteo traversed the snail-paced traffic. I had no idea what I was going to do with Stefan when I got to him. The pistol was one I’d had a long time, for self-defense purposes. I never had any intention on using it on him, for once considering that it might come to that, considering what I’d seen of Stefan the last few times we’d met. He’d attacked Charlie twice, and me once. The drugs; they’d changed him.
If it came to it, could I hurt my brother?
I shook my head and looked out the window. First, things first – get him to a private location without causing a huge scene so that I could knock some sense into him.
***
CLAIREMONT TOWN SQUARE was little more than an over-sized outlet mall with walkways and parking lots running between stores and eateries. A contact had reported seeing Stefan eating pancakes at a Denny’s in the area, according to Matteo. And that’s exactly where he and Leonardo had found him.
Something about the information bothered me, but I hadn’t stopped to assess why because I was determined not to let him escape me again. Now that my mind had a second to parse the information, I knew exactly why something was off.
Stefan was allergic to maple syrup. That’s why he stayed far away from it. I’d never in my life known him to go into a Denny’s or IHOP. My bones vibrated with the knowledge that something wasn’t right.
I clenched my jaw and willed the traffic to move faster.
“We’re almost there boss,” Matteo said.
“Good,” I said. If we were lucky, we could catch him still inside the restaurant. And within a few minutes, after what felt like an eternity, the town square came into sight – a solid wall of buildings from which crowds of people flowed in and out.
Matteo guided us to a sparking spot in the lot nearest the Denny’s. We met up with Leonardo, and the three of us headed in the direction of the restaurant.
I wanted to run, but that would bring unwanted attention. Massive mountains, Matteo and Leonardo weren’t the kind of men who could be easily overlooked. The three of us were already already gathering enough attention as it was, especially the way the grim lines of their faces were set. Their quarry was near and after a long hunt, they were about to bag him. The determination in their strides showed that they might have been even more eager than I was to get my hands on my brother.
We rounded the corner of the restaurant, honing in on the front door. It opened and a tall man with curly, almost-black hair emerged.
Stefan.
He looked awful; pale and thinner than the last time I’d laid eyes on him. The drugs were getting to him. I grabbed his arm before he could react and spun him around to face me. “Stefan!”
The man looked back at me and smiled facetiously, “Try again, brother.”
I blinked as realization punched me in the face. It wasn’t Stefan. He had the same height and general build. He even wore the same style of clothes, but he was definitely not my brother. From a distance he could past, but up close, the similarities vanished. He was not part-Italian. His white skin lacked the right tone. And his hair was the wrong shade, not dark enough. And while his eyes were in the gold family, they were more hazel than the vivid topaz of Stefan’s.
Frustration pulsed through me.
“This is the wrong guy,” Leonardo remarked needlessly.
I stared at the man, and he gazed back unflinchingly. He wasn’t acting like a person would if a random stranger accosted them. And I suddenly remembered that he’d called me ‘brother.’ He knew who I was and why I was here.
“Yes,” I whispered, stunned at the realization. “It’s a body double.”
“What the hell!” Matteo groused and leaped into action, grabbing the man by one arm and twisting it behind his back. “Then he knows something and if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll start talking now,” he breathed into the man’s face.
Sans fear of the giant about to rip his arm from its socket, the body double grinned a twisted smile, and let out a cackling sound that would make a witch’s spine tremble.
Dread writhed in my stomach. What the hell was Stefan up to? Whatever it was, he’d planned it well and cunningly.
The use of a body double meant two things: that Stefan wanted me in one place, while he was someplace else. Where could that be, and for what?
As a small crowd started to gather nearby – pointing and murmuring – realization hit me like a thunderbolt.
“Boss?” Matteo asked as my face turned a surly shade of gray.
In that moment, I didn’t care about not drawing cover to myself.
“Charlie!” I said, ripping Matteo’s keys from his hand and sprinting toward his car.