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Dread washed over me, my gaze zooming to the top of the screen. I smiled weakly and waved to the camera. Pastry crumbs fell from my fingers, landing on his keyboard. “Why do you not have a remote kill switch?” I went on the offensive, making sure he knew the fault for this invasion belonged solely to him.
“I do. I wished to see where this trail ended.”
“Well, you were asking for this. Otherwise, you would have a password on your computer.”
“Or I set a snare and you walked right into it. Who else would dare enter my office without permission, let alone surf the web?”
Entrapment! “Obviously, as the lady of the house, your office is my office. I do what I want?” I cringed again. A question when I’d intended to utter a statement.
To my shock, he didn’t rebuff me. “What were you hoping to find in your search about me?” His neutral tone offered no hints of his thoughts.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I mumbled. He knew of that, too? Well. Whatever. No going back now. So he knew. So what? Onward and upward. “The answer to your question is everything,” I replied honestly. Lies caused nothing but trouble, inside and out. “We’re married.” Kind of. “I should know more about the man I’m shacked up with. And it’s clear to me you’re keeping secrets.”
“Elaborate.” A demand he didn’t bother to couch as a request.
Okay. Showtime. Gotta be myself, remember? “No, I don’t think I will elaborate.” Leaning back, getting comfortable,I propped my feet next to Thora. Myself had questions. “How old are you, exactly? Do you hate me because I cheated with your brother? Do you have a mistress? Or more than one? What are their names? Are you in love with any of them? If so, how long have the two of you been together? Do you wish you’d married her instead of me? Or do you prefer to bang and bail randoms?”
Silence. Long, agonizing seconds of total quiet, not even a rasp of his breathing detectable. Then he offered an emotionless, “And the reason for searching the subject that shall not be named, mythology, clothes, shoes and books?”
He seriously wasn’t going to toss me a bone disguised as a snarky comment, helping me unravel the mystery of his origins, the history of his relationship with Isobel, or the nuances of his personality? Well, two could play that game.
“Buh-bye.” I hung up on him and blew a kiss at the camera. “No answers for me, no answers for you.” With that, I set Thora on the floor and headed out. Once again, the fluff ball followed me.
“He’ll regret leaving me in the dark,” I told her. Callen had done the unthinkable. The impossible. He’d pricked my ire. I dealt with unruly children on the daily and not once had my temper ever flared. I mean, how dare he, right? Confusion was the devil’s playground. When you had light in your possession, you shared it. Keep it to yourself and get burned. His choice, his consequences.
But was he a berserker or not? Cheating on his wife or not? I was gonna find out, one way or another. Sooner rather than later.
As I stalked to Isobel’s room, Buzz and Ponytail slinked from the shadows to reclaim their positions. Thankfully, they didn’t trail me through the entrance. I sealed myselfinside with Thora and keyed up how-to videos on my cell for overcoming locked doors. Nothing would keep me out of the only two rooms I hadn’t yet explored.
The first tutorial revealed a step-by-step method involving stealth and lock picks. The second showcased brute force. The last involved removing the door from its hinges.
That. I watched the short clip multiple times to ensure I understood what I needed to do. Leaving the phone behind, I exited the chamber without Thora and glared up at my guards. “Fetch me a hammer and a screwdriver. Now.” How was that for an Isobel impression?
They didn’t speak, glance at me, or obey. No matter. I moved on, hunting for a maid; the pair followed. “You. Stop,” I called to the first uniformed woman I spotted. “I need a hammer and a screwdriver as soon as possible. Please and thank you. I’ll be here, awaiting your return.”
“Aye, ma’am,” she squeaked and scurried off.
I studied the hinges on the door I intended to bypass. The biggest of the locked rooms. Did this lead to Callen’s private chamber? I refused to stop until I got inside and looked around.
He would find out what I’d done, of course, probably even before I finished. He’d be upset. But so what? Maybe he’d rage, proving himself a berserker. Maybe he wouldn’t. Either way, I’d have an answer aboutsomething.
A different maid arrived with the desired tools. The brave girl who’d brought me that amazing fruit smoothie. She wore the same uniform, but she’d slicked her dark hair into a tight bun.
“What do you plan to do with these?” she asked as she handed over the tools.
“Whatever I want,” I said with a smile. I crouched in front of the door and got to work, uncaring of my audience. Because yes, the trio remained, watching my every move.
Might as well take advantage of the situation. “What’s your name?” I asked the maid, banging away at a hinge. Metal clanged against metal.
“Mackenzie.”
Should Isobel have known that? Judging by her miffed tone, I’d guess yes. Well, in for a penny… I freed a hinge with an internal victory shout and focused on the next. “As you probably know, I’m a horror of a human with little regard for those around me. So. Remind me of the time we first met.”
“About two years ago, when you showed up at Mr. Bruce’s door, begging for his help,” she grated.
Isobel sought Callen’s aid near the same time Sorcha, the live-in girlfriend, disappeared? A mere coincidence? “Are we friends?” Something I’d learned with my students: it was far better to ask blunt, forth-right questions than hint around, confusing everyone.
“Nay.”
