Page 98 of Heir of Ashes
“What? Who’s he?” Tommy asked, frowning at Vincent, standing by the car, one arm casually draped over the roof, the other resting on the door.
“My ride home,” I said, hugging him before descending the three steps.
“Looks like government issue,” he observed. “You in trouble?”
I stopped at the bottom step and looked up at him. He was still frowning at Vincent.
“No,” I said, “no trouble.”
Vincent waited until I was seated before climbing in. I didn’t turn to look at Tommy as we pulled away.
“You have anywhere else to go?” Vincent asked.
“No. That’s all,” I replied.
“So, did you follow me here, or do I have a transmitter implanted?” I asked him once we neared the airport.
“Sort of. Phone GPS. Roland freaked out when you went to the airport. I promised I’d keep an eye on you to see if you were trying to bail out.”
“Thank you,” I said after a moment.
He raised one eyebrow but didn’t look at me. “For what?”
“For letting me do what I had to do.”
He nodded, and we continued the rest of the drive in silence. Tomorrow marked the beginning of my new life.
Epilogue
Logan
From a distance, I watched Roxanne board the Hunters' private jet. Guilt, rage, and regret gnawed at me—not because we had been captured, but because of how things had unraveled. Outwardly, none of it showed.
The Council was supposed to have rescued us, not the damn Hunters. Being Archer's only heir and second in command should have spurred them into action like a hurricane on the Society. But no, Vincent had to handle it all by the book, like a damn Boy Scout. And I—I had practically shoved the pen into Roxanne’s hand and forced her signature on that contract.
I should have listened to Rafael and left her behind. I’d given in to her plea and brought her along, confident that those same people who hadn't come for Archer would come for us, for her.How stupid.
Then there was Alleena—Elizabeth, as she was calling herself—the clan’s vice-council. I had delivered Roxanne to her doorstep believing she’d keep Fosch’s daughter safe. Instead, her home was infested with the Society’s watchdogs. Not because they’d barged in, but because she had invited them.
She knew I'd go after Archer, and yet, she did nothing but schedule a meeting for three weeks later, as if Archer’s well-being wasn’t important to the clan. Maybe she’d hoped I’d get killed in the rescue attempt. Sooner or later, the clan would have gone after Archer … and come out as heroes for saving their leader. My death would have served the High Council's interests. Archer would have been forced to provide an heir of his own lineage or name someone else. Like Alleena. Not to mention her automatic ascent in the Council if Archer, tragically, was never found.
I should have known better, damn it!
My only satisfaction was knowing Alleena now had to answer to Archer. She was supposed to have determined how much of Fosch Roxanne had inherited, to protect her if she was more Dhiultadh than human. She had failed. Miserably.
All the experiments and lab work the Society had done … all those years of knowledge. Archer had tried to retrieve the results, but had been politely denied access to the “work and labor of government officials”. A quick glance at Archer's clenched fists and tight jaw told me how much trouble Alleena was in.
The jet began moving slowly, taxiing toward the runway.
“She can’t go with them,” I snapped, my frustration finally bubbling to the surface. “She needs guidance, not to be thrown in with those wannabes. They’ll exploit all her vulnerabilities—and she’s got plenty.”
“Vincent is a good kid,” Archer replied. “He will take good care of her.”
“Kid is the operative word here.”
“He was alpha among his peers. He’s Mackenzie’s second. He’s smart, strong, and capable. He’ll take care of her.”
“If he’s so capable, he should have responded to my summons. Instead, he brought his superiors and trapped the victim of this clusterfuck into a worse fate.”