Enemy Within (Vampire Born Trilogy, #2) (12 page)

I steel my shoulders and my face, putting up a confident front. Nuance is everything when dealing with someone of Zladislov’s caliber.

“I came to speak with Brooke. She said she would return shortly,” he says, his attention draws to the doors.

I shake my head. “Right now, I’m not sure it’s in her best interest to speak with you. What do you want, Zladislov?”

He smiles, clearly amused that someone as unworthy as a Zao Duh is trying to deny him something. “And why is that?”

I smirk. Games. It’s always games with Pijawikas. However, if I can delay him from making his move, I may be able to get some tell on what his plan is. “Because one of yours attacked Brooke at the Ogden Airport.”

Zladislov sneers. “One of mine did no such thing.”

“She did. I fought with her myself.” Could he really have no idea what happened?

I doubt it.

“Her? And what does this supposed attacker look like?” His face remains inscrutable. Still no sign of his intentions.

“Black hair, cut to about here,” I put my hand to my chin to show him the length, “tall, slender, broad shoulders, and pointy nose.”

Zladislov regards Emerik. “Sound familiar?”

Emerik frowns. “No one I can recall. I would have to do some checking.”

“As you can imagine,” Zladislov says, “my line is very big and widely spread. But you say you are sure she was one of mine?”

I figured by this point Zladislov would’ve made his move. It throws me off he hasn’t. “Yes, Brooke witnessed her wearing the same znak you have hanging in your main hallway.”

Zladislov’s forehead creases. It’s the most expression I’ve seen on his face. “Find her,” he tells Emerik, and Emerik nods. “I assure you, I do not want to harm my daughter. However, I would like to speak with her.”

It is more of a statement than a request, but I’m still not ready to oblige. “How about we have you do that somewhere . . . less deserted? Garwin Johnson’s house.” I raise my eyebrow to let him know there is more than just a house there. We have a small army waiting for him.

He nods once. “It’s only Emerik and me. We shall follow behind you.”

I’m almost certain he knows where Garwin lives. His offer to follow us indicates the courtesy for us to keep an eye on him. That eases some of my tension, but I still won’t relax until I’m positive he’s no longer a threat to Brooke. “That will work. Let us gather our things.”

I address Hawk. “Kaitlynn and Jaren.” He’ll grab them along with Brooke and Holly Anne.

Bruce will stay with me and we’ll go with Zladislov and Emerik.

The enemy is following us home.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Brooke

Rorik and five other Zao Duhs meet us at Garwin’s gates. When Emerik pulls up behind us and rolls down his window, Rorik and his men bow to my father.

Geez, even when the Zao Duhs might possibly fight him to the death, they still bow.

Creepy.

My pulse pounds in my ears as Hawk drives slowly past the fountain and formal gardens toward the house. Emerik follows behind, and the Zao Duhs jog beside their car.

Four more Zao Duhs stand sentry on the porch with Garwin.

This is what we’ve been waiting for.

We get out of the cars and walk up the steps. My legs tremble the whole way.

The Zao Duhs swarm my father and Emerik like bees protecting their hive.

“Zladislov,” Garwin says while he bows.

My father stops at the top of the stairs, and the Zao Duhs mirror him. Mirko, Ace, and the rest of the crew lead Kaitlynn, Jaren, and me around the group to continue on inside, but before we are all in and the door shuts, Garwin’s voice trails behind us, “I expect for you to come into my home on peaceful terms, and to remain peaceful until you are far from my property.”

My father replies, “I would offer you nothing less.” The door closes, so I don’t see his face to find out if he’s lying, but I stare at the door regardless.

My mom rushes out between more Zao Duhs in the hallway and wraps me in her arms. She pulls back and turns toward Mirko. “Does he really only want to talk?”

“That’s what he says. I think if he wants to harm Brooke, he would’ve done it already. So either he really does want to talk, or he’s here for something else.”

The door opens and we scramble back. Except Mirko. My throat constricts, but I can’t pull my gaze away from my father. Not only because I’m scared but also because he’s my
dad
.

I know what he looks like from seeing him at the hotel in Utah—dark, sleek hair, chiseled cheekbones, brilliant blue eyes—but it still isn’t enough. I’ve imagined his face a million different ways while growing up. Sometimes it was ugly and scarred, and others it was beautiful and strong. Although he might’ve followed us here to kill me, I’m strangely comforted by his beauty.

“Let’s convene in the den,” Garwin says and points for us to go.

I drop my eyes, and we spread out into the den. Garwin leads my father to the sitting area and indicates for him to sit in Garwin’s regular spot.

Is that a sign of consideration for my father, or is this a strategic move pertaining to where my father is positioned in relation to the Zao Duhs?

Emerik stands to the right of my father, and six Zao Duhs line up behind and to their sides. I hope that’s adequate; I’m too star-struck and shaky to run if someone lunges at me.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Garwin asks, strolling over to the liquor cabinet. “Scotch or brandy, perhaps?”

“Cognac,” my mom says, drawing my father’s attention to her. She blushes when their eyes meet and something passes between them.

His expression is blank as he stares at her, but hers twists with deep emotion—love, maybe?—and then it quickly darkens to raw anger.

She tears her eyes away and we sit across from him. She and I sit in the middle with Mirko next to me and Ace next to her. Kaitlynn and Jaren and the remaining Zao Duhs file in behind the couch.

Garwin pours the dark liquid into a bowl-shaped glass and hands it to my father.

My father sniffs the drink and smiles. We have the same smile.

“Anything for you?” Garwin asks Emerik.

“I’m fine, thank you.” Emerik’s words are kind but each accented word exudes virile strength, his moss-green eyes sparkling with intelligence. His nose is sharp and his jaw is wide and masculine. He’s as beautiful as my father but his beauty offers me no such comfort.

It terrifies me.

Garwin walk
s back to his cabinet and makes his signature drink—two cubes of ice and brandy. I have to give it to him for acting so nonchalant. He sits on the couch closest to my father. “All right, Zladislov, what brings you to my home?”

“I have come to see my daughter.”

“Yes,” Mirko says, his back rigid, “but what do you want with her?”

“I assure you, I do not wish to harm her. I am her father, and I simply want to claim her as mine.”

Butterflies soar from my gut and flutter in my chest.

He wants me.

I shouldn’t believe him, though. I told myself if I ever met him, I’d tell him how much I hate him for abandoning my mom and me. I’d tell him how much we don’t need him.

But … the icy wall those promises push against within me melt. And it is more than the lost little girl inside me who needs him. Through the anger, the fear of rejection, the uncertainty, all of it, I ache for my father to want me as his daughter.

My mom snorts. “If you wanted to be a father, you would’ve found us.”

“Did you offer me a choice, Annette? You ran. You changed your name. You made it clear you did not
want
me to find you. You knew I would only be able to expend so many resources before I had to give up on you if I wanted to keep our relationship hidden. How was I supposed to know you were with child?”

I whirl on my mom. “Annette? You changed your name?” The lies grow deeper and deeper. I shake my head. He looked for us, and it was because of
her
I didn’t have a father. “Is my name even really Brooke? Or did you change that too? Maybe more than once even? Huh?”

My mom grabs my hand to calm me down, but I jerk away. I can’t handle her touching me. All my life, she blamed my father for his absence. He could’ve been here all along if it wasn’t for her. And I’m going to flip if I don’t have the stability of my own name to define me.

Mirko puts his hand on the small of my back, a silent reminder to behave, but I ignore it and turn to him. “Were you aware of this? Did you know she was going by a fake name?”

“No,” he says calmly. “You only referred to her as your mom and I’ve only heard of her as Annette.”

I look at Garwin and glare. How could I have been so blind? He and Mirko have had numerous conversations about my mom, but I’ve never heard her referred to as Annette.

“Brooke is your name,” my mom says, trying to ease my tension. “They didn’t know your name, and with mine changed, I saw no reason to change yours.”

Oh, well, thank baby Jesus for that. At least I have
something
that really belongs to me. “What about Keller?”

Garwin answers, “There are a lot of Kellers outside of the Društvo lines, so we thought it safer than Bauer, which is mostly tied with the Društvos.”

Brooke Bauer. I chew on that for a second. Too foreign to be mine. “What’s on my birth certificate?” I’ve never needed to see it before. I’ve never had a reason to believe my name isn’t my own.

It makes me feel detached from everything. I hate it.

“Your birth certificate says Brooke Keller,” my mom says.

I relax some. It is my name. It’s legal from birth. Lots of people have different last names from their moms. I certainly don’t care how much it’s attached to the Društvos. “So, does this mean I don’t have to provide for Mrs. Tomic, then?” I hope that’s what it means.

“What?” my father growls. “Absolutely not. No daughter of mine is going to serve with the Društvos.” He gives my mom a sharp look.

I smile. If he doesn’t want me dead, I might like him.

“What choice did we have?” my mom asks. “We thought you wanted to kill her, remember? And the only bargaining chip we found was to offer something we thought your people could identify with.”

“The paperwork has been finalized,” Garwin adds.

“It will have to be unfinalized. Richard is simply going to have to find someone else.” My father surveys my mom. “I am beside myself that you ran and hid her away from me.”

He appears genuinely hurt, his eyes narrowed, forehead crinkled.

My mom shakes her head and closes her eyes, as if she wishes it could’ve been different too. “If I would’ve stayed, she wouldn’t have stood a chance. None of us would have,” she trails off in a whisper.

My father’s eye twitches, revealing a shadow of the pain, real pain even a man trained in holding his emotions cannot hide. “I would have kept her safe. I would have kept both of you safe. You simply did not trust me to give us the chance.”

The air thickens and something deep transfers between my mom and father.

I hold my breath, not wanting to remind them I’m an intruder in their intimate moment. These are my parents. And they clearly still love each other, after all this time.

My heart swells almost to the point of boiling over. My father wants me. I believe it and don’t want to deny it. It hurt him that he didn’t know about me, and above everything else I’ve learned since the moment my life turned upside down, him wanting me as his daughter means the most.