Page 94 of A Violet Obsession

When the gates open, I bite the inside of my lip, to keep from making a noise. This is it. Finn’s warm hand comes around my wrist and squeezes.

As selfish as it is, I’m glad he’s here with me.

Inside the walls, it gets stranger. A circular courtyard paved in pale stone sits at the center, a dark spiral set into the ground, narrowing toward a polished quartz point standing upright in the middle. Wind chimes hang under wooden beams, though there’s barely enough wind to move them. Large, carved symbols decorate the buildings—moons, triangles, intersecting lines inside circles.

The SUV stops in front of the largest building, and the front door opens before the engine is off.

A woman steps into the sun first. Silver-blond hair hangs loose over a white linen dress, a clear crystal mounted in gold wire resting at the center of her chest. Her smile is soft, almost radiant.

It totally creeps me out.

A man emerges behind her in the same loose brown and tan robes, belted at the waist, that the representative at the auction had worn.

Finn gets out, taking Hera’s bag before anyone can touch it, then turns back and offers me his hand without looking at the guards. I take it, not because I need the help, but because I’ll take any second of his calm reassurance I can get.

“Welcome,” the woman intones. “We are honored by your arrival.”

“Thanks for the invitation,” Finn retorts.

The woman’s smile doesn’t move. “You didn’t need to come.”

Finn snorts

“What do you want with me?” I ask, even though as soon as I had heard Tate’s name, I knew.

“Mr. Tate is waiting for you.” She turns toward the door. “Please come inside. We’ll find your pet some water while you have your introduction.”

When it’s clear no one is moving until Finn hands over the bag, he finally reluctantly does.

“She’ll be in good hands,” the woman assures us. “We value nature here,” she continues, as the robed man walks away with Hera.

Finn puts his palm in the small of my back.

I really don’t want to walk through that doorway. His thumb presses once against my spine, and I move.

The inside is cool and shadowed after the glare, smelling faintly of cedar and incense. Smooth plaster walls curve into a wide entry hall. Woven rugs cover the floor, and wall niches hold a variety of colorful crystals and small candles burning with steady flames.

We pass through double doors into a large room overlooking the courtyard. Half-reclining on a chaise is the older man from the tablet, an oxygen tank sitting next to him.

“Lily,” he says with a smile.

He looks like someone’s grandfather—if that grandfather had armed guards, a desert compound, and enough money to kidnap people.

His gaze drops to Finn’s hand around mine, then to the dried blood near his temple, and winces. “You should go with Nora.” He glances at the woman in white. “She’ll see you patched up properly. I’m sorry things became so…” He purses his lips. “Confrontational. However, it’s very important that I speak with Lily.”

Finn doesn’t move. “I stay with her.”

“As you wish.” Tate gestures to the couches. “Please, sit. You’ve had a difficult journey. Nora, would you bring tea?”

Finn sits close enough that our legs touch. He keeps himself angled between me and the door, even while appearing to sit casually.

Nora sets down a tray with three cups, a clay pot, and a bowl of something pale and crystalline that might be sugar.

There is no way in hell I’m drinking this tea.

“I’m sorry things transpired as they did, but I find the older I get, the less comfortable I am with absolutes. Right and wrong are rarely as clean as people want.”

“I think kidnapping is pretty clearly wrong,” I point out.