"Santiago?" Judge answers the other line on the second ring.
"Sorry, I've been getting my wife settled back in,” I explain. “I’m back in my office now.”
I take a seat at my desk and stare at the bottle of scotch that's been taunting me. It would be nice to have a drink after the past two days, but I don't want to risk it. Not when Ivy's safety is in question. I won't let my guard down for even a second.
"How is she doing?" Judge asks, polite but seemingly not too concerned. He doesn't foster attachments to useless emotions for people he barely knows. And I have to remind myself that I am much the same, and I shouldn't take offense.
"She's tired," I tell him. "She needs rest, but the doctor assures me she's going to be fine. The baby too."
"All well and good," he says. "I'm assuming the paperwork that was hand-delivered to my desk today is something you'd like to discuss."
"Yes." I glance at the clock on the wall, realizing he's still at work. Marco didn't waste any time.
"Where did these files come from?"
"Eli has a safe house. A place Abel has been using for his own purposes apparently. It's in his mother's name, so it wasn't ever connected to The Society. Ivy had been hiding..." I clear my throat and cringe at that word. "Staying there during her absence. I sent Marco to search the place for anything useful, and he produced these files."
"I see." There's a sound of a chair creaking, and I can just imagine Judge leaning back as he considers this news. "These are all IVI members. Myself included."
"Yes."
"Names, birth dates, family lineage," Judge murmurs.
"You may have noticed a connection."
"Indeed," he answers solemnly. "There seems to be a dossier for every member who was killed in the same explosion that took your father and brother. Do you know if it was Abel or Eli who compiled them?"
"They are one and the same as far as I'm concerned. I'll be having a conversation with Eli. But what concerns me are the files on Jackson and Marcus Van der Smit. They are connected to The Tribunal. Marcus served before he died, and Jackson still serves."
"You don't think they have anything to do with this?" Judge asks.
"It's difficult to say. But his wife has been feeding my wife information. Befriending her. And it was Jackson who inserted himself into The Tribunal's investigation with Ivy. He made himself out to be a hero, but there's always a chance—"
"Not to mention what he did to Mercedes," Judge adds bitterly.
"Mercedes?" I repeat. "You mean because he didn't marry her?"
Judge is quiet for a pause before he answers. "He should never have courted her if he had no intentions to marry her."
His remark surprises me. I know he's protective of Mercedes because she will be his charge should anything ever happen to me. I detect a hint of something that sounds like resentment in his tone, yet I can only laugh as I consider the notion that his attachment runs any deeper. Judge will never marry. He is taking care of Mercedes, looking after her best interests, but I find it highly unlikely he could harbor any real feelings for her. Judge doesn't involve himself in romantic entanglements. I know because I've seen him at the IVI Cat House, picking out a woman as one might pick out a pair of shoes for the evening. He chooses what suits him, uses them for their purpose, and then returns them without any emotional investment.
"You shouldn't worry about Jackson hurting Mercedes again," I tell him. "Once she is scorned, she doesn't forgive. I am quite certain she only wants to make him sorry for it."
"I'm aware," he muses. "But is there a possibility that Jackson could have been courting her to serve some bigger purpose? If he never intended to marry her, and you suspect him of being dishonorable... it isn't much of a stretch of the imagination."
"I don't know," I admit. "I would find it difficult to believe he'd get into bed with Abel on any dealings, but Eli is another matter, perhaps. He was a respectable man, once. I believed so too. Perhaps they were scheming together."
"I think the only way to know for sure is to crack Eli while you still have the chance," Judge says. "You've been too lenient with him, and you don’t know how much time you’ll have. Someone already tried to clean up that loose end once. How long will it be until they do it again? It's time to put the screws to him. I can help if you require my assistance."
I don't want to tell him that he's still recovering, and it gives me pause to torture such a weak man. Or that he was right to assume Ivy's presence in my life has given me doubts about my own intentions. I can't think of torturing Eli without considering the consequences to my relationship with her, so I give him the only assurance I can.
"I'm going to speak with him tomorrow."
There's a slight pause, and then Judge answers. "Weakness will get you killed, Santiago. You can't afford it. There are already holes in your armor."
"I know." I lean my head back and close my eyes. "I won't deny it."
"Speak to Eli," he says. "And I'll keep looking through the files you sent. If anything else catches my attention, I will let you know."
I thank him and say my goodbyes, and when I open my eyes again, Evangeline is standing in the doorway to my office, staring at me.
"What are you doing?" I frown.
"Nothing." She shrugs a shoulder and ventures inside without being asked, her eyes moving over everything with interest. "I'm bored."
"Bored?" I repeat. "And what would you like me to do about it?"
"Want to play a game?" she asks.
I stare at her, incredulous. "I have to take care of your sister."
"She's sleeping," she says. "How about Tic Tac Toe or Hangman?”
When I don’t respond, she sighs.
"Fine. MASH then."
"I don't even know what that is," I answer dryly.
She makes herself at home, settling into the seat across from me, grabbing a pad of paper and a pen from my desk. "I'll show you. It's easy."
Somehow, she ropes me into answering a bunch of inane questions, which she follows up by marking lines into the paper until I tell her to stop. I watch her as she proceeds to count, scratching off items one by one until she's circled a word in each column.
"Okay, you're going to live in a mansion, and you're married to my sister, obviously. You drive an Aston Martin, and you're a math geek for your job. You'll have five kids and no pets."
"This is the dumbest game I've ever seen," I tell her. "What's the point of it?"
She laughs and rolls her eyes. "Um, duh. It's just for fun. Do you know how to have fun?"
"Clearly, I do not."
"Okay, now my turn." She slides the paper toward me, and I consider telling her this is ridiculous. But when I notice how at ease she seems to be around me now, it makes my chest feel strange.
"One game," I say firmly. "And don't expect me to know who Damon Bieber is."
"Those are two different guys." She laughs. "God, you are so out of touch. Okay, let's do this. Put down mansion in every column for me. Pink, purple, blue, and red."
"Isn't that cheating?" I arch a brow. “I had a shack and a normal house.”
"Nah, not really. It’s all pretend, so just go with it."
I suspect she's not being completely truthful, but I do as she asks. And somehow, over the next ten minutes, I end up describing her imaginary future life full of cats and dogs and some vampire named Salvatore for a husband in their pink heart-shaped mansion. I'm too uneasy to admit how strange this is, talking to a child as if I know anything about dealing with them. It isn't until Marco finds us there and he heaves out a strangled laugh at the spectacle before him that I realize it's not just me. I really am unequipped to deal with small humans, and it shows.
"Hey, boss." He wipes the smirk from his face as he steps inside. "Sorry to interrupt. I was just going to give you an update for the night like you asked."
Eva cranes her neck to look up at him, giving him a little wave, which he returns before he takes a seat beside her.
"Eva, I have some business to take care of.” I nod at her.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it." She tugs the piece of paper from the pad and folds it up, placing it in her pocket. "I'll go wander the house and find something else to do."
"Go to the kitchen if you'd like," I suggest. "Ask Antonia for one of her famous sundaes. But just this once."
"Really?" She perks up.
"Yes. Really."
Marco is grinning at me like an idiot when I shake my head.
"I think this house needs a few kids running through the halls. Brings it to life," he remarks.
I nod stiffly, hoping he can't see the terror that's slowly beginning to sink in. It was always a given that I would do my duty and have heirs, and since Ivy has been here, that's been my goal. But now it's real. Now that I seem to be reminded of it at every turn by a child in my midst, I can't stop doubting my abilities as a father.
"What is it like?" I ask.
Marco blinks at me slowly, trying to comprehend the question. I'm about to tell him to forget it when it occurs to him.
"Being a father?"
I nod, wishing I never mentioned it.
He brushes a hand over his stubble and sighs. "Honestly? It's fucking terrifying." A laugh bursts from his lips as he shakes his head and then smiles. "But it's the best thing I've ever done. I'm always thinking about them. Wondering if I'm doing enough. If they are safe at home. What they are doing when I'm at work. They never leave my mind. You can’t even imagine half the scenarios that will go through your head… all the questions you’ll have about whether you are doing it right. You’ll never stop thinking about it."
His answer isn't what I expected, and I can't wrap my head around it. Surely, that isn't the case for every man. He must be an anomaly. My own father never seemed to think of us except when we did not perform to his standards.
But I won't be that way, will I?
I feel a headache starting to form at the base of my skull. Right now, the only thing I know for certain is that Ivy will be here to help me muddle through the process. Between her and Antonia, I suppose they will not even need me around very much. Yet I think I would like to be around. But will I just get in the way?
"Boss?" Marco is staring at me, and I realize I haven't responded.
"Yes, you came to tell me about the progress on Abel." I force myself to focus on the present clusterfuck. One problem at a time.
"There still haven't been any sightings," he informs me. "But there is one courtesan who has been absent from the Cat House the last two days. I've been informed that she is another one of Abel's regular conquests. There could be a connection there."
"So, what's the issue?" I ask.
"Unfortunately, it appears we don't have her current address on file, so we are trying to track her down. My guys are shaking down the whole place as we speak. If any of the ladies know anything, they'll give her up."
"What about her family? There must be something on the paperwork we have for her."
"No family listed," he says. "Both her parents died. No siblings."
I sigh. Of course, Abel would choose someone like that to use for his own purposes.
"I hope he didn't do anything to her," Marco says quietly, echoing my own thoughts.
"If he has, he will pay. He will pay for every last sin."
He nods. "The guys are taking shifts. We have men out looking for him round the clock. And the Society posted ten more guards outside The Manor walls. So far, he hasn’t been dumb enough to pass by, but you never know."
"Thank you for keeping me informed, Marco. It's difficult to sit here and wait him out, knowing he's still out there."
"We'll get him," he assures me. "This is the safest place for your family to be. Your wife needs you right now."
"Yes," I agree. "I think she does."