Falcon (Kindred, #5)

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Pulling the window closed, Devon latched it and ran her fingers through her hair. Spinning around, she wanted to seek out Bess, who hadn’t returned. Making a beeline for the door Bess had used, Devon was determined to get answers. Finding the door open an inch, she wondered if the wind had pushed it open or if Bess had left it that way.

But when she got to it, she discovered why Bess and Wren hadn’t come back. They were occupying each other. Their engaged voices made Devon stop. They weren’t right on the other side of the door, because their voices were quiet. But wherever they were, they believed themselves to be alone.

Devon wasn’t going to pass up this chance to collect more information, so she put her own curiosity about the external stranger out of her mind and craned to hear everything that she could.

“I don’t like it,” Bess said. “I know the Kindred has to do things in certain ways. But Art wouldn’t like it either.”

“Don’t invoke our deceased chief, please,” Wren said. “It wasn’t my decision. You know how this works, I follow orders. I don’t make decisions. I only get called on when someone needs patched up. Nothing else is my business.”

“You’re as much a part of this as anyone, you’re the reason Zave does this. It’s only because of you that he got involved at all.” Zave. Devon folded her arms, that was a name she hadn’t heard before and it wasn’t a bird alias either. “You have every right to tell him how you feel. This is one of those strategies that Brodie and Zave come up with together and the rest of you go along with it because you believe they know best.”

“They do know best,” Wren said. “They put their asses on the line more than the rest of us do.”

Bess wasn’t taking any excuses. “Not more than Zara. That girl’s been involved in every mission since her life was consumed by the Kindred.”

“So why aren’t you talking to her?” Wren asked.

Devon didn’t like the whiney, petulant tone in his voice. It was like he was a teenager being blamed for something he insisted wasn’t his fault. Bess was his mother, so maybe this was the way he always spoke to her.

Devon preferred a person to take ownership, for men to be stronger and more decisive. Wren was a doctor, he should have all the confidence in the world because he made life and death decisions all the time.

But he wasn’t taking responsibility for whatever Bess was talking about. “You know sometimes they need their heads knocked together,” Bess said. “Art isn’t here to do that. Zara tries her best, but Zave is still wary with her, you know how he is with women.”

Devon didn’t know who Zave was, she didn’t recognize any of the names that Bess was using and she assumed they were the real names of the people she’d met at the lunch table. Given that they’d admitted to using aliases, it made sense.

“You tried to get him to go to Devon’s room,” Wren said. “Zave wouldn’t do it. You told Devon there was only one person that Zave would listen to and we both know that’s Brodie.”

“And even Brodie couldn’t get through to him,” Bess said.

“But they came up with a plan, and that was why Brodie went to Devon last night, to make her believe that he was the buyer.”

“But he wasn’t,” Bess insisted. Devon had never heard her voice so strained. “That’s what I have a problem with. You’re lying to that girl and she’s been through enough.”

“What was the alternative?” Wren asked. “If we didn’t let her meet the buyer, she wouldn’t tell us what she knows. Now she thinks she’s met the buyer, she’ll tell us the truth. She’s honest—”

“But we’re not?” Bess asked. “I don’t like lying.”

“I know you don’t, Mom. But we do this for a reason, we got involved for a reason, we save these women for a reason.”

“I know, son, because of Bronwyn,” Bess said, and she became soft and soothing. “I know, Thad, sweetheart, and I’m sorry. I don’t have a problem with what you do. I don’t have a problem with what any of you do. You know how proud I am of you all. You put yourselves in danger time and time again and you never ask for thanks or gratitude.”

“You lost your brother,” Thad said. “We’ve all made sacrifices.”

“And Zara lost her life too,” Bess said. “If it wasn’t for you, she wouldn’t be here, and that’s what gives you the right to stand up and tell them that they have to be honest with Devon.”

“I can shout it out. Zara can, too, and she can work on Brodie. But when Brodie and Zave get together they’re like an iron wall, they don’t bend, I’ve never seen loyalty like it. They stand together; they would do anything for each other. Brodie would never risk Zara’s life, he loves her too much, but anything else can be sacrificed. He’d do anything to defend Zave too. They’re closer than brothers.”

“They both lost their parents in the same way,” Bess said. “Their bond is deep. But you have to tell Devon the truth. If she finds it out later—”

“What do you want me to do?” Wren asked, exasperated. “I can march out there and tell her the truth. Will Zara stand behind me? Probably, because she’s too nice not to. But Brodie, he’ll go ballistic and when Zave hears about it... that’s it, he’ll shut down, he’ll go back to how he was before.”

“You don’t know that,” Bess said. “He’s come so far in these past few years. If we just push a little more...”

“Then yeah, we could make progress, or he could regress,” Wren said.

“I don’t think so.” There was a curiosity in Bess’ voice, which made Devon lean in closer. “Did you see how he was with her on the trip here? I only saw them when they arrived, but I’ve never seen him with any other girls the way he was with Devon. He carried her all the way up to that room in his arms and laid her on that bed like she was precious. I watched the way he stroked her hair—”

“I know,” Wren said. “It was different. I don’t understand it but it was. From the minute he brought her out of there, I knew there was something different about her for him.”

“Do you think that’s why he’s being so stubborn?” Bess asked. “That he knows she’s different? That for some reason, he cares about her in a special way?”

“And he’s worried about getting too close?” Wren asked. “It’s a possibility. But I don’t see him sacrificing the mission for that, he’s bullheaded. I’ve never seen him go ga-ga for a girl, not even when we were kids and there were dozens of them in his life. There was never one that stood out.”

“He’s older now and been through a lot,” Bess said.

All of this was fascinating for Devon and several facts had become clear from this short spell of listening in. First off, the guy who had come to visit her last night, Raven, also known as Brodie, wasn’t the man who’d bought her at all. Swallow, who had to be Zara, as it had been stated she and Raven were in love, wasn’t ignored by her Brodie, she was ignored by this Zave character who they were talking about.

Zave was the man who had bought her, he had to be. Wren, who she now knew was called Thad, just said Zave had brought her out of the auction. By themselves, these facts were interesting, and it was startling to learn that while Devon thought she was making progress in receiving honesty, she was actually being drawn further into a pit of lies.

But this man, Zave, she’d made an impression on him. Although she didn’t know how she’d done it. Why was she different? Why had he carried her so carefully to the room and stroked her hair in a gesture which suggested affection? Devon couldn’t be flattered.

Hearing a noise from beyond the door, she worried they might be coming. Stumbling back a few steps, she fled back to the table and her previous seat. Did this Zave person keep his distance because he cared for her? But how could he? They didn’t know each other. She couldn’t get the notion from her head that it was unsettling for him to be stroking her hair. A man she had never seen had had his hands on her, even in such a benign way, not only without her permission, but without her knowledge, too.

Picking up a stick of celery, she took a bite for no other reason than it would look good for her to be eating if someone was to come in. She thought about the man on the shore. Could that be him? The man they were talking about? He’d made an impression on her, for sure. He was the only person she’d seen who didn’t have a name. It had to be him.

She couldn’t be here anymore, she couldn’t be honest with people who lied to her, but she couldn’t decide how to tackle the situation in a way that would earn her freedom. If she told the truth about overhearing the conversation, it might prompt them to be honest with her or they could get mad.

Bess came back in. “Have you had something to eat?”

Devon was amazed at how quickly she’d gone from having a fraught conversation with her son to having a pleasant, breezy tone as she addressed the prisoner.

“Yes,” Devon said, dropping her celery onto her plate and standing up. “Thank you.”

“I can take you back to your room—”

“No. If you want to prove you trust me, I want a different room, one without a lock on the door, in this part of the house.” Bess was startled. “You can talk to your family about it, but I don’t want to be in that room anymore. If you want me to share with you, then you’ll share with me, and that starts by giving me some freedom. If this house is truly on an island, I can’t go anywhere, can I? Even if I wanted to run, I wouldn’t get far. Your friend Raven told me last night, it’s cold here, and I’d only be punishing myself.”

Bess nodded. “I don’t know if the boys will agree to that.”

The hierarchy here, whether official or not, would dictate that Bess wasn’t a decision maker, she’d said as much herself. Her hesitancy wasn’t a surprise, but Devon wasn’t going to back down just because she liked this woman’s nature.

“I can tell you who they fear, who’s in charge. I can tell you when he visits and what their vulnerabilities might be. I can even tell you about an aborted mutiny that they’re desperate to keep quiet. News of that would probably get them all killed if word about the top guy is true. Now you guys can come together and decide if that information’s worth having. You’ll only get it if you let me see what’s going on here. Are you actually vigilantes intent on helping people or are you nothing but a bunch of liars and criminals? Or you can let me go and I’ll tell everything I know to the cops.”

“I’ll talk to them.”

“Ok,” Devon said, sitting herself back down. “I’ll wait right here for your answer.”