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Chapter 9

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JASON STOOD WAITING for them in the driveway of their house.

The cab driver slowed to a cautious stop, and both boys hopped out and retrieved their bags from the trunk as Jason paced anxiously back and forth, tapping his fingers impatiently on his arms.

When he’d apparently decided they were taking too long he handed a bill to the cabbie himself and hit the back of the car, sending it on its way. “What happened?” he demanded.

There was no preamble. No ‘how was your flight.’ Just a hard-hitting question, fired out at lightning speed. One that was surely going to be followed by a dozen more.

Tristan merely shook his head, while Simon set down his bags with a sigh. He was tired, so was Tristan, and both of them were suddenly tense. They’d decided on the flight over not to tell anyone the things they’d discovered about Jacob’s personal life in Budapest. If Jake had wanted to keep Lili and baby Julian hidden safely away from the eyes of the tatù world, then that was his call to make. They weren’t about to interfere. Especially as Tristan was essentially doing the same thing himself.

The problem was, that meant they’d have to keep it a secret from Jason as well.

Over the years their mentor had stretched the rules for them more times that they could count, but Simon remembered the night they’d brought Beth to him for the first time. His decision had been simple. “There are things we don’t hide,” he’d told Simon. A rather puzzling choice of words, one that had come back to perplex Simon on more than one occasion, but his decision held.

He would be duty-bound to report any such finding. Even if he didn’t want to. Even if he also felt like it wasn’t really his call. That meant that Tristan and Simon would have to get a little creative in their impromptu debriefing.

“We couldn’t find him,” Simon answered evasively. “Couldn’t find anyone who knew where he was, either. We waited at the apartment and trolled the streets for a while, but...nothing.”

Jason’s face gave nothing away. His posture was still rigid and tense as his eyes flashed between them, but he said not a word.

To be honest, Simon was slightly confused. He’d expected Jason to curse and rant. For him to chastise them for not looking harder. For not pulling some kind of miracle out of a hat.

But Jason did none of those things. He merely asked again, quieter but pressing, “You found nothing? There was nothing left behind?”

Simon would have liked to have left it there. Nope—we didn’t find a thing. Put the Privy Council side of the investigation to rest as he worked out a plan to secretly recover Jacob himself. If he was lucky, he could even give him a dose of that memory solution first so that Simon’s involvement with Cromfield would never be revealed.

But this time it was Tristan who inadvertently stood in his way.

There was no reason in the world that Tristan wouldn’t share with Jason the letter they’d found left behind. The one with the big glaring ‘C’ emblazed across the top. He had no idea the significance of such a note, and he wanted to find Jacob more than anything.

Sure enough, he pulled it from his bag and handed it to Jason with a second’s thought.

“There was just this. We found it in his apartment,” he lied easily. “Wedged behind the headboard. It looked like he wrote it in a bit of a hurry.”

There was a flutter of paper as the letter was quickly opened and read.

Simon shifted uneasily as his mentor went through it four or five times. The ‘C’ seemed to burn through the paper near his fingers. A giant arrow pointing directly to the traitor in their midst.

Please, just put it down, he silently prayed. Please, just let it go.

It was as if he had spoken out loud. A muscle flexed in the back of Jason’s jaw, and his eyes flickered up for the briefest moment to Simon.

Simon froze as they held him there, not sure what they were looking for. Not sure if they’d found it.

The next moment, he slipped the letter into his jacket. “You did the best you could,” he said quietly. “I’ll take it from here.”

Simon stayed rooted to the spot, but Tristan dropped his bags in protest. “What?! No! We didn’t find anything, Jason! Jake’s still out there, and we have no idea what that letter means! You need to give us more time to—”

“There is no more time,” Jason interrupted smoothly. “At least not for the two of you. You have a new mission now, just came down from Masters himself. I’ll be taking over Jake’s investigation myself.”

Simon nodded submissively, silently panicking as to what Jason might find, but Tristan was in a full-fledged tantrum, his chronic lack of sleep breaking through the normal inhibitions that would have kept him quiet.

“This is bullshit!” he exclaimed. “We accomplished nothing, he’s still out there! Why the hell would the Privy Council take us off the—”

I’m taking you off the case!”

Even Tristan had to take a step back, silenced by the anger radiating from Jason’s voice. It wasn’t often that he lost his temper with them. Not unless there was a very good reason for it. Even now, he was only keeping himself together under a very thin layer of control.

“Tris, you and Simon are good. No one’s denying that.” He spoke in a fast monotone, calm and deadly. “But I’m better. This is Jacob. I’ll handle it.”

It was true. Looking at Jason now, it was impossible to doubt him. Tense and tall. Bright eyes at the ready. Braced against the wind in his signature leather jacket. He would find Jacob, alright. He would do whatever the hell he set his mind to. There was no one in the world Simon would trust to do it more.

Unfortunately, he alone knew what Jason was going to find.

“Let us at least help you,” he said quietly.

Tristan looked over in surprise; he’d obviously considered the conversation closed. And Jason was staring at Simon with a rather peculiar expression on his face. If Simon didn’t know better, he would have sworn he looked...touched.

Jason stared appraisingly for another moment before briskly moving on. “You have another assignment. Keene is coming to debrief you in the morning.”

“We pass,” he blurted. Simon didn’t know what exactly made him do it. He certainly didn’t plan the words before they came tumbling out of his mouth. He simply knew that he needed to stay in London. Needed to get to Jacob before Cromfield could hurt him some more. Needed to get to him before Jason got to him first.

If Tristan had looked surprised before, he was flat-out bowled over now. Simon lived for these missions. Up until recently, they both did. They had never passed on one before. To be honest, he wasn’t sure if they could pass.

But Simon suddenly had a built-in excuse. He glanced at his friend significantly before turning back to Jason. “We haven’t spent more than a few days in London at a time for the last five months. We need a break. Need to spend some time at home.”

The meaning suddenly clicked, and Tristan shot him a look of gratitude. Mixed with a great deal of surprise. Jason, on the other hand, was nonplussed.

“You signed a contract to work for the Privy Council, Simon. Do you not understand what that means?” Before Simon could answer, he spoke again. “This isn’t your ninth grade history class; you can’t just pass the buck along when it suits you. You’ll have tonight in the city, but Keene will be here tomorrow at seven a.m. I expect you both to be ready for him.”

Tristan bowed his head with a submissive, “Yes, sir.”

Simon was frustrated, but eventually had to comply. He was the low man on the totem pole here. A cog in the machine. When the machine told you to get working, you didn’t have a choice. “Yes, sir.”

Jason measured his response for another moment, nodding abruptly and turning on his heel to go. A second later his car was flying down the darkened street, sending up a mist of water behind it.

Tristan stared after him for a second before picking up his bags to head inside. On the way, he shot Simon a little smile. “Thanks for trying.”

“Sorry it didn’t work.” Simon tossed him the onesie.

Tristan caught it and stuffed it quickly into his bag, glancing around as if the PC police might come darting forth at any moment. When he realized Simon was just messing with him, he flipped him off with a grin and headed inside.

Simon was quick to follow. He may only have one night in London, but at least it was a night. And he knew exactly how he was going to spend it...

*   *   *

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AN HOUR LATER, SIMON was wandering briskly through the park, the collar of his coat turned up against the rain. He’d had to wait until Tristan went to sleep, but the second the guy was snoring Simon darted up to the attic and lit a small candle in the window.

It was a dance that he and Cromfield had been doing for months. Their signal to meet.

The second it was lit, he headed outside to the park. He didn’t know how Cromfield always had eyes on him, but somehow he did. If the man was anywhere in London, he would meet him.

Simon walked slow, eyes scanning the darkness. Half-formed thoughts raced clumsily through his head. Half-prepared lectures and rants. He tried to come up with something rational to steady himself. Some legitimate argument to use. But when all was said and done, he had no idea what he was going to say to the man.

Give me my friend back.

Brainwash him first.

Hands off my people.

Each one sounded more ridiculous than the next. How could Simon be working tirelessly to promote a new world order, but demand to withhold certain key people? How could he champion the cause without making certain sacrifices? On that note...what sacrifice was too great? Where would he draw the line? If forced to choose between the thing he believed in and the people he loved—what would he decide?

He was still mulling it over, when there was a sudden rustling in the trees. He spun around, ready with a wave of vitriol, but stopped immediately when he saw who it was.

“Beth?”

She looked up, caught by surprise, and peered through the trees.

“Simon?”

After living with Tristan’s tatù for so long, Simon sometimes forgot how the rest of the world got by. She hadn’t seen him yet, and clearly hadn’t been heading out there deliberately to find him. Meaning that if he’d just kept his mouth shut, she would have walked right on by.

Great job, idiot! Why don’t you just call Jason and Tristan, too? Then they can all meet Cromfield and it will be one big party!

His heart simultaneously leapt in his chest, and sank down to his stomach as he crossed the icy ground to meet her. Everything depended on him meeting with Cromfield tonight. Everything depended on him getting Jacob released before Jason came looking.

A task that had just gotten infinitely more difficult.

“Hey! What are you doing out here? I didn’t know you were planning on...” He trailed off suddenly as he realized she’d been crying. Her eyes were pink and puffy, and her normally alabaster skin was flushed with random stains of color. It was a devastating enough sight to make him momentarily forget his own plight and focus on her own.

“Honey,” he opened up his arms, “what’s the matter?”

She stepped immediately inside, but couldn’t gather enough breath to say anything. Instead she simply buried her face in his chest, sobbing silently as she trembled in his arms.

A wave of instant emotion crashed over him, intensifying as he lowered his head slightly and sniffed at her fragrant locks of hair. His hands tightened around her back, and he found himself soothing without even thinking about it. Murmuring mindless words of comfort as he rocked her gently back and forth.

This continued on for several minutes, both of them oblivious to the late hour, both of them oblivious to the cold. Then Simon’s eyes spotted another shadow moving towards them in the dark. A figure he would recognize anywhere.

A silhouette that haunted his dreams.

His entire body stiffened as Cromfield stepped out from around a curve in the path. It was like Simon’s very blood had frozen, rooting him to the spot like a terrified statue. For one of the first times in his life, he truly had no idea what to do. No emergency escape plan to get him out of this.

Cromfield stopped short when he saw the two of them holding each other, freezing mid-step as Simon had done. A bit of a smile curled up his lips, and his eyes twinkled at Simon’s manic expression. The smile only widened when Simon started frantically waving him off.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, full of a thousand silent secrets though neither one of them said a word. Then, with an ironic tip of his hat, Cromfield backed away into the trees.

A second later, he was gone.

Simon pulled in a quiet sigh of relief as Beth finally leaned back to look at him.

“I—I’m sorry,” she sniffed, still trying to catch her breath. “I’m not trying to be all dramatic and everything. I came over tonight to see you, but...I didn’t know you’d be out here.”

Simon gazed down at her with a slight frown. She’d come to the house to see him, but had chickened out halfway and gone to the park instead? To cry by herself? What the hell was going on?

“Sweetie...what’s the matter?”

She tried to look away, but he caught her gently by the chin and tilted her face up to his. The sight of it was enough to take his breath away. Even streaming with silent tears, Beth was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. The kind of girl who seemed to almost glow in the world around her, whether or not she was using her fantastical flames.

“You can tell me,” he pressed softly, finding himself using the same words he’d said to Tristan just a day before. “Whatever it is—”

Her eyes widened as they focused onto his, sparkling almost silver under the light of the moon. Her lips parted slowly, trembling with each breath. But the next second she shook her head. “It’s Jacob.”

Simon blinked. Whatever she was going to say, he hadn’t been expecting that.

She wiped a new set of tears coursing down her cheeks.

“Jake?” he repeated, cocking his head curiously to the side. “What about Jake?”

A look of panic flashed through her eyes, but it cooled quickly into an equally questioning stare. “You guys didn’t find him, right? I accidentally woke up Tristan—he told me. Jake’s still out there? You weren’t able to find anything?”

Simon shook his head quickly, dropping his eyes to the frosty ground.

Get it together, Simon! ‘What about Jake?’ Really?! Why the hell do you think she’s talking about Jake?!

“No, we weren’t,” he said quietly. Her hands came up to her mouth and he was quick to reassure her, taking them in his own and kissing each finger. “But we will. Jason’s on the case now. It’s only a matter of time before he finds him.”

Too true. Too true.

Beth pulled in a shaky breath and forced herself to nod. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. If I was missing, I’d want Jason looking for me, too.”

Simon smiled tightly and squeezed her hands.

The tears had nearly stopped now, and she was breathing easier. It wasn’t until a second later that she seemed to notice the cold. “What’re you doing out here?” she asked with a shiver. “It’s freezing.”

Simon blanked. “I was...”

Through the trees, he imagined he could hear laughter. A deep laughter that echoed through his brain, reverberating off every bone in his body.

His breath caught in his throat, but he forced himself to smile.

“I was just clearing my head.” Before she could find fault with that, he put his arm around her again and started leading her back to the house. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

*   *   *

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ODDLY, SIMON HAD A hard time trying to get Beth to stay over that night. Usually, it was an automatic assumption that she would. Jennifer kept their apartment teeming with a constant stream of random men, and Beth had long ago decided that Simon’s house would be her refuge. He was more than happy to have her, and between all the nights she’d been there, and the rather illicit list of activities they’d used to fill those nights, it sometimes felt like the two of them were living together.

At first she’d claimed to be too stressed out about work and Jacob, but in the end she’d curled up in his bed wearing one of his t-shirts as a nightgown. Simon had watched her sleep until the early hours of the morning, at which point he’d passed out himself.

It wasn’t until he heard her creeping out the window the next morning that he remembered both he and Tristan were expecting company.

“Hey,” he called softy, propping himself up against the headboard as she paused with one foot already in the tree outside, “you can use the door, you know.”

She shook her head with a little smile. “Keene will be here any second. The last thing I want is for him to ask me what I was doing at your house at six-thirty in the morning.”

“Oh, shit...Keene.” Simon ran his fingers down over his face. “I completely forgot.”

She flashed him another smile and swung herself through the window. “Have fun. Tell him hello for me.”

“Yeah,” Simon chuckled ironically. “I’ll be sure do to that.”

“Love you, babe.”

Simon was about to say ‘I love you’ back, but he called out to her softly instead. “Beth?”

She poked her head back through the window. “Yeah? What? Did I forget something?”

He gazed at her for a moment, flushed with color and backlit by the morning sun, and his face softened tenderly. “Are you sure you’re alright? After...after yesterday?”

For a second, her skin went rather pale. The fits of tears had come and gone as the night progressed, but Simon hadn’t made much progress as to their cause besides the fact that she was worried about Jacob. It made perfect sense, of course. Jacob and Beth had grown almost as close as she and Tristan over the last few months, and it was natural she would be concerned.

Then again, their circle of friends had a habit of putting themselves in constant danger. They had been through worse than this before...

She faltered for only a second, then forced a bright smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.” There was the sound of a car door, and she glanced beneath here. “Keene’s here. Gotta run.”

Before Simon could even tell her he loved her, she was gone.

He lay in bed another moment, thinking everything over with a little frown, when there was a sudden banging on the other side of his door and he leapt with a start.

“You’d better be up, Kerrigan,” Tristan called. “Keene’s here.”

Simon’s eyes snapped shut with a grimace and he threw himself out of bed. “I’m coming, I’m coming...”

Five minutes late, the obligatory morning coffee had been disbursed and the three of them were sitting around the kitchen table, looking down at an unopened file. It was a rather familiar scene. Keene was no replacement for Jason, of course, but over the last year he’d proven himself to be a worthy handler for the two boys. One who already bordered on being a friend.

“The mission is simple,” he said directly, sliding the file across the table “The two of you are to track down a group of known dissenters and bring in their leader for questioning.”

Simon caught the file, and passed it automatically to Tristan.

“Any ink?”

Keene nodded. “Yes. They’re all believed to have tatùs. That’s why the mission perimeters have you going in at night. With any luck, you can get it and grab the guy without anyone being the wiser until the morning.”

“It’s close,” Tristan murmured, glancing quickly through the file.

“Yes,” Keene replied. “Only an hour outside London. Apparently, the lot of them are staying in an old monastery. It’s where they have their meetings.”

Close was good. In fact, close was perfect.

Simon’s face lit up with excitement. “So this could be over in less than a day. We grab him and bring him back to headquarters? That’s it?”

Keene chuckled quietly as Tristan continued reading. “Yes, Jason told me about your request for a little time off. Finish this assignment quickly, and I’ll make sure it’s at least a week until you have another.”

A week! It was even better than Simon had hoped!

“Did you hear that?” He turned to Tristan excitedly. “Seven days back in London. Seven days for us to...”

He trailed off quickly at the look on Tristan’s face. Something was wrong. He wasn’t sure what it was or what it meant, but something was definitely wrong.

“Is something wrong?” Keene had seen the look, too, and lowered his coffee with a concerned frown. He’d been around Tristan long enough now to read his expressions.

Simon kicked Tristan under the table and he looked up with a start, clearing his face as best he could as he handed the file to Simon. With a feeling of great anticipation, Simon opened it up and flipped to the last page.

Then his heart stopped beating.

He knew that face. He knew that man. The last time he’d seen him had been that fateful night back in Munich. The night where his entire life had changed forever.

Patrick Fodder.