I dropped the shoes into the box she held open for me. “He must be, if you noticed.”
Kenley flushed and slid the box onto a stack of others in one corner of her closet. “Like you didn’t.”
I shrugged. We’d never actually talked about her taste in men. Or lack thereof. But I didn’t give a damn whether she slept with men or women, or both at once, so long as it was her choice. So long as she wasn’t being used for anything except the bindings she’d been recruited to seal.
“What the fucking hell is this?” She slid one hand behind the dress still hanging on her closet door and pulled the material closer to her face.
“You sound like a kid playing dress up when you cuss. Give it up. You lack the skill.”
Instead of answering, she held the dress out to me. “How did you manage to get blood on my dress at a formal party, Kori?”
“Shit. Sorry.” I sank onto her bed and folded my legs beneath me. “I thought I avoided the spray.”
“Whose?”
“David’s,” I said, and she waited, obviously expecting more of an explanation, so I rolled my eyes and sighed. “He started it.”
“What’d he do?”
“Doesn’t matter. The point is that if I let the bastard get away with something small now, he’ll try something bigger next time.”
Kenley hung the dress in her closet. “It was about the basement, wasn’t it?” she said, and when I didn’t answer, my sister sighed. “The blood’s dry now, but there may be enough for a decent binding, if I dampen it. I could make him leave you alone.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I fight my own battles.” As well as most of hers.
“What happened in the basement, Kori?” She spoke with her back to me, like she didn’t want to see my face when I answered. Like she already knew I’d lie.
“Nothing.” Some lies between sisters are okay. Some are forgivable. Some are unavoidable.
Mine was all three.
Kenley sighed, but she let it go. “Come on. I’ll make you a sandwich.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’re skinny. You need to eat.”
“Yes, Gran.” I rolled my eyes again, but followed her into the kitchen and sat at the bar while she made two grilled-cheese-and-tomato sandwiches, both for me. My mouth was watering before she’d finished buttering the bread.
“How bad is this, Kori?” she asked, as she set the first one in front of me on a paper plate.
“Looks good from here.” I picked up the sandwich and Kenley frowned at me—she knew damn well that I knew what she really meant.
“What’s gonna happen if you can’t sign him?” she asked, and I set the sandwich down, my appetite suddenly gone.
“That won’t happen. I’ll get him.”
“But if you can’t? If he’s only here to eat, drink and be merry on Jake’s dime? What’s Jake going to do, Kori? Tell me the truth. You owe it to me.”
She was right about that, but I couldn’t give her all of it.
I exhaled slowly and met her gaze across the counter. “He’ll kill me.” Slowly. Jake wouldn’t want me to die without having time to truly suffer first.
But I couldn’t tell her the rest of it. I couldn’t tell my sister what would happen to her if I failed.
Because I wasn’t going to let that happen.
Six
Ian
After Kori left, I sat on one of the couches in the front room and stared at the door for a solid five minutes, trying to figure out what I’d said to send her fleeing into the night. I couldn’t remember a woman ever running away from me before, and I certainly hadn’t expected that from Tower’s liaison.
Whatever I’d done, I couldn’t afford to do it again. This was my only shot. Tower trusted me—as much as he ever trusted anyone who wasn’t bound to him—because he’d approached me, rather than the other way around. If I got caught, he wouldn’t fall for the same trick again. But it wasn’t just his trust I needed.
I lay in bed half the night, trying to figure out how to get Kori to trust me enough to reintroduce me to her sister. Maybe even take me to Kenley’s house, or leave me alone with her somewhere else. Anywhere else. Because the alternative was too horrible to contemplate.
I didn’t want to kill Kori’s sister in front of her, but I would, if I had to. I’d do it for my brother, and for everyone else who’d ever been bound against his or her will by Kenley Daniels.
Few could have done what Kori’s sister had done to my brother—most Binders weren’t strong enough to make a nonconsensual binding stick. But Kenley wasn’t most Binders. She had an extraordinary amount of power, and as long as she wielded it like a weapon—or let someone else wield her power like a weapon—she was a threat to the general population. As was anyone pulling her strings.
Which was why Kenley Daniels had to die.
Bringing down Jake Tower was a bonus. It was also the carrot I’d dangled in front of Aaron, a die-hard Independent activist, to get him to help with the research and intel.
The plan had been simple, at least in theory. Kill the Binder, and those she’d bound would go free. By Aaron’s estimate, in the six years Kenley Daniels had been working for Tower, she’d sealed bindings not only for most of the new recruits, but for most of the existing employees who’d reenlisted during that time period.
Jake Tower was the king of a castle built around a single, crucial cornerstone—Kenley Daniels. With her death, he would lose the majority of his workforce—the legion of indentured servants blood bound to follow his every order—and with them, his power and influence.
The whole recruitment ruse was intended to put her within my reach. She was supposed to be my liaison to the Tower syndicate; I’d described her in perfect detail.
Kori wasn’t supposed to happen. She’d never even met my brother, and she hadn’t bound anyone to Jake Tower, which made her useless to both me and Aaron. But she was all I had, so I’d have to make it work.
When she knocked on the door the next morning, I was as ready as I was going to get.
“Nice boots,” I said as she stepped past me into the living area. “They should make it even easier to run away.”
“Meaning?” But I could see the truth in the tense line of her shoulders. She knew exactly what I meant.
“You ran out of here last night like the hotel was on fire.” I headed into the bedroom and her quick, angry footsteps followed me.
“I wasn’t running, I was … drunk. Too much vodka. I didn’t want to puke all over your hotel room.”
I glanced at her from the closet doorway. She’d gulped from the bottle like a pro, without even flinching. Kori Daniels might have been a lot of things, but she was not a novice drinker. Yet there was something new and vulnerable in her expression—something fragile and caged—and that surprised me so much I decided not to push the issue.
I selected a tie and stood in front of the mirror to knot it, watching her reflection fidget while she watched mine. She was uncomfortable in