Wildfire - Page 54/76

It was so good that I wasn’t drinking when he said it. “You don’t know me, Garen. I don’t know you. Help me understand this.”

“Marriage is a partnership. I think we will be good partners. We’re similar. We both value family, integrity, and competence. We do the same type of work, and we dedicate ourselves to it. We care about reputation rather than fame. We’re both careful, because we know what’s at stake. I think we would be a good match.”

“And genetics have nothing to do with it?”

He sighed. “Genetics have everything to do with it. If you were a flighty opportunist, I still would’ve seriously considered it, given your set of genes.”

“The pickings are slim, I take it?”

“Yes. We’re a rare breed, and when we step outside of our own type of magic, there is always a risk of diluting the power.”

“Wouldn’t it have been wise to at least wait until the trials, so you would know for certain?”

He put his fork down. “I don’t need the trials. I know you’re a Prime. You drew the Tremaine wave without even knowing what it is. That suggests that your ability is genetic, and it will be passed on to your children. That is gold.”

“Mhm.”

“Does it bother you that we’re discussing this as if the two of us were a rare type of cattle we’re considering breeding?”

“Of course, it bothers me. I’m a human being, Garen. I have dreams and expectations. I want to marry for love, not for my genes.”

“So do I.”

True.

He sighed. “But there is always that catastrophic moment when expectations meet cold, hard reality. I can guarantee that our children will be powerful Primes. That’s a rare opportunity for both of us. You’re an emerging House. You’ll need to form alliances to survive. You’ll need to invest in security and personnel for yourself and your family members, which means startup capital. You’ll need to learn to navigate the shark-infested waters of the Houses. You’ll need training. You may be naturally stronger than me. We won’t know this until we truly grapple. But in a life or death struggle, I would kill you. I have the knowledge and experience of using my magic, and you lack both. Marriage to me would guarantee that all of those needs would be taken care of.”

A lot of what he said made sense. “And what’s in it for you?”

“A partner who truly understands me. Someone who will be loyal, who will work with me toward common goals. Someone who will grow with me, who will be an asset. A fascinating, intelligent woman. Someone who will be a remarkable mother.” He paused. “The relationship with me will be honest, Nevada. I won’t lie to you. I can’t, but even if I could, I wouldn’t want to. We both know it’s a double-edged sword, but it’s best we put it all out here now.”

“I don’t love you, Garen,” I said gently.

“I know. Like you said, we don’t know each other. But you’re attracted to me. I’m attracted to you. It’s a good start. Given time, we’d come to love each other. I’ve seen it happen before. That’s the way it happened for my parents. My childhood was idyllic, because my father loved my mother and treated her with respect, and she loved him and offered the same respect back. Neither of them had affairs. They lived happily, until my father’s illness and eventual death three years ago. Arranged marriage can succeed.”

“I don’t want to marry because I tick all of the right boxes.”

“Isn’t that the criteria for all marriage? You marry someone precisely because they tick all of your boxes.”

“I’m in a relationship with someone else,” I said.

He pushed his plate away and leaned forward. “I said I didn’t want to criticize Rogan, but I may have to go back on my word. I really want this, Nevada. This is my opportunity of a lifetime.”

Wow. So slick.

“Rogan is larger than life. High impact. Dangerous, and that danger can carry a certain allure. But he’s also unpredictable and ruthless. He measures everyone by his own standards. He’ll put you in danger assuming you can handle it, and he’ll fail to notice the moment you can’t. I would do everything in my power to keep you from being put into a dangerous situation in the first place, because that’s what a husband is supposed to do. Ask yourself, would he be a good husband? A good father? Would he be able to control his temper? We both come from large families. You know how crazy your younger siblings can make you. Think of him in the role of a caregiver. Think of all that stress. Would you feel safe leaving the children with him? Would you feel safer leaving them with me?”

He was really good at this. Much better than I expected.

“I offer security, stability, and comfort. He offers excitement, danger, and risk. I offer marriage, a formal agreement which gives you rights and protections. He hasn’t even considered it.”

Garen leaned forward and touched my hand with his elegant fingers. The personal connection.

“Nevada, the bottom line is that Rogan and I want two different women. I want the smart, confident, cautious woman who built her own business, who understands loyalty and integrity. He wants a warrior, someone who can go toe-to-toe with him into whatever latest high-risk venture he wants to plunge into. He wants someone people will be afraid of. To put it crudely, he gets off on it. If you accept me, you’ll become the head of a Fortune 500 corporation with me, with all of the influence and security that position brings. If you stay with him, you will become your grandmother. You have to decide who you want to be. In the end, it’s all about family.”

Chapter 11

Garen offered dessert, but I declined. He didn’t insist. He did walk me out to the parking lot and watched over me while I got into my car. He missed the three people who conveniently exited Molly’s Pub at about the same time and got into a silver Range Rover.

I pulled into traffic. “Call Bern.”

The car dialed the number.

“Here,” my cousin said.

“I survived. Where is Cornelius?”

“He just left the restaurant.”

“Did Rogan make it back?”

“Yes.” There was a hint of amusement in my cousin’s voice. “We’re all in the back, in the motor pool.”

“I’ll be there shortly. I need to make a brief detour.” Something Garen said ate at me. It was all about family. If I had a secret, a terrible secret that I didn’t want anyone to know, I would trust my family. Olivia Charles was a Prime. She would trust her family. The ransom had to be somewhere in Rynda’s house.

Traffic was surprisingly light. My escort stayed about a car length behind me the whole way until I pulled in front of Rynda’s house. I stepped out. The doors of the SUV behind me opened and three people jumped out: an Asian man in his early twenties with a faded scar on his left cheek; a dark-haired, serious-looking man in his thirties; and Melosa, Rogan’s personal aegis.

“Why aren’t you in Austin with him?” I asked her.

“Because he considers your safety a higher priority,” she said. “Why are we here?”

“I need to search Rynda’s house.”

“It’s already been searched,” the dark-haired man said.

“I know.” I headed for the door.

“Oh no, you don’t.” Melosa ran in front of me and blocked my way. “Delun?”

“On it.” The Asian man moved toward the door and punched in the code. The door swung open under the pressure of his fingertips. He moved inside, stepping lightly, and paused.

A long moment passed.

“Clear,” he said. “It’s empty.”

He turned and flipped the lights on. I walked into the house. Someone had cleaned the mess. The bloodstains were gone from the tiles and the overturned Christmas tree had disappeared.

I stopped in the living room. Bits and pieces of past conversations floated up onto the surface of my memory.

. . . She was a wonderful grandmother to my children. She loved them so much . . .

. . . It’s not in the computer. It’s somewhere in the house . . .

. . . but Olivia saw it. She adored him. She framed every painting he made . . .