Vice and Void (The Savage Wolves Brotherhood #1)

25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Dakota

Dakota could say with absolute certainty that she never felt lower. Not as Thalia’s eyes narrowed to an accusatory glare, not as she tracked Dakota’s stiff walk to the computer on the other side of the workstation, and not as her stare snapped back to Dylan, who seemed blissfully unaware they had been caught.

With every fiber of her being shriveling to nothing, Dakota tucked a blonde lock behind her ear and slowly sank into the plastic seat.

“Are you okay? You look like you’re going to be sick,” James asked as he settled into the seat next to her and maneuvered the mouse to wake the computer screen.

Dakota inwardly shrunk as Thalia’s gaze swept over her again, dropped to her pocket, and then returned to the clipboard housing Logan’s chart. “Bad breakfast,” Dakota replied quietly, though not quietly enough, as Thalia’s brows rose in response.

“Do you need—“

“No,” Dakota quickly answered. She leaned forward to type in her username and password before scrolling through the emergency department’s board of patients to pull up Logan’s name. “I just need to work through it. Really, I’m fine.”

James’s gaze washed over her pale face. “The governor wants to meet with us at the prison,” he went on as Dakota began to type the distills Logan was administered into a note. “Two days from now. I think he wants to hear our opinions on the matter.”

From the corner of her eye, Dakota noticed Thalia’s head twitch back, turning her ear toward the conversation. “What did you say to him?”

“That we would be delighted to join. What else should I have said?” The words came out like acid, and James shook his head. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper. “There’s been a breakthrough. The governor wants us to see.”

Dakota stopped typing and turned to look at him. “What kind of breakthrough?”

“I hesitated to ask,” James replied. “I didn’t want to know.”

Sitting back in her seat, Dakota sighed. “We are well and truly fucked aren’t we?” There was no point in decorum or mincing words now. She was stuck beyond her wildest imagination.

James let out a long exhale. “We are well and truly fucked, yes.” He lifted a hand to rub his wrinkled brow. “Listen, why don’t you finish up here? You don’t need me to help draft a trauma note. I’m going to the distillery to check how well the yarrow plants are pressing.” He didn’t wait for her response as he pushed himself out of the chair and took off briskly down the brightly-lit hallway.

Dakota glanced over the mender’s desk and the trauma bay. Dylan sat beside the gurney, his thumb swiping against his phone screen. From this angle, it seemed he was casually sifting through a dating app. Logan was still passed out on the stretcher with his mouth opened wide to snore at the ceiling. Thalia, on the other hand, was nowhere to be found.

“Give me a call when he’s ready for discharge,” Dakota said to the nearest mender as soon as she finished her note and logged out of the computer. “I’ll swing by with the paperwork.”

“Thanks, Dakota!” a peppy, dark-haired woman replied. She bustled into the trauma bay and strapped the blood pressure cuff around Logan’s arm before tapping a series of buttons on the monitor.

Dakota swiped her badge against the reader when she approached the doors to exit the emergency department. There was the slight possibility Thalia didn’t see Dakota hand off the vials, or, at the very least, Dakota could gaslight her into thinking it. She could use what little amount she had in her savings account to have Callum and the Brotherhood bully Thalia into silence if worse came to worse.

Gods, she really fucking liked Thalia.

On second thought, this whole thing was Callum’s fault. Dakota wouldn't have been in this position if he hadn’t begged for the vials. He would front the cost to pay Thalia off. Of course, if Dakota hadn’t put her experimentation above her alchemy training, she also wouldn’t be in this—

A door to Dakota’s right cracked open, and a hand shot out to grip her around the upper arm. With a squawk of surprise, she was jerked over the threshold. A single-stall restroom appeared, and the lock clicked shut behind her.

“You’re going to get yourself in huge fucking trouble.”

Dakota straightened, spotting Thalia and her fiery-red hair glaring at Dakota. “What?” Dakota responded in a tone that was nowhere near convincing.

Thalia quirked a brow. “That’s all you got? I caught you smuggling distill vials to a deputy ranger, and all you have to say is what ?”

Dakota spun on the toes of her sneakers, squaring her shoulders to Thalia. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her voice was stronger this time, but the damage was already done.

Thalia sighed and let her arms fall to her sides. “If you keep doing that shit in the middle of the emergency department, you’re going to get arrested. You gotta be smarter—cut the shit, I know who you work for.”

Dakota’s teeth snapped shut with such force that they clacked together.

The two watch each other for a long minute, eyes narrowed and searching.

“I’m not working for anyone,” Dakota finally said, breaking the silence that strangled the space between them. “If you think I’m working for anyone besides the Guildhall, you are mistaken. So unless you’re formerly accusing me of something, I’m going.” She turned to leave, her hand hovering over the doorknob, when Thalia spoke up.

“I can help you, you know.”

Dakota glanced over her shoulder. “With?”

Thalia leaned her hip against the edge of the bathroom sink. “Diverting distills correctly. I wasn’t kidding—if you keep it up, you’ll get caught.” She swallowed hard. “And I want in.”

“You want in?” Dakota asked. The numbness abated from her fingers and toes, dredging up a tingle that rose to her wrist and elbow. She desperately wanted out of the bathroom. Desperately wanted a breath of fresh air that didn’t smell like citrus cleaning chemicals and musty mildew.

“You aren’t the only one looking for someone.”

Dakota’s hand dropped from where it still rested on the doorknob.

“My brother,” Thalia went on in Dakota’s continued silence. She didn’t move from her lean against the sink, even as the automatic faucet triggered water to stream into the bowl. “He was taken after a car accident a year ago. My family hasn’t seen him since.”

A twist in the region of Dakota’s lower belly spiked her discomfort, but the impassive mask remained tightly guarded against her face. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she finally said over her shoulder.

Thalia nodded. “There were rumors in Penham of the Governor’s Fieldhouse. What really went on there, I mean. I came to see if it was true.” She looked at Dakota expectantly. When she still said nothing, Thalia sighed. “The Brotherhood’s reach is all over the continent. I want…I want a chance to find him.”

Dakota swallowed and looked toward the open stall, watching the roll of paper flutter against the breeze from the vent above. “I—I’ll talk to Callum about it.” When Thalia’s expression opened to hope, Dakota added, “I can’t make any promises. And I can’t tell you anything. But…I’ll do what I can.”

Thalia's gaze went glassy.

Hunter and his daughters. Thalia and her brother. Lyra.

This whole mess was far more complicated than she needed it to be. With every passing second, it seemed like a new binding tethered her closer to Callum. If she weren’t careful, it would be damn near impossible to untangle herself from him.

Dakota slung her canvas bag over her shoulder and tucked her jacket underneath her arm. While summer still held Norwich during the day, the morning and evening breeze had the sting of autumn. James left early for the day, citing the need to get home to his wife before a long week ahead of them, but Dakota knew the undertones of his truth. He was trying to spend as much time with her as possible before they were killed for their knowledge of the prison.

If they didn’t agree to go along with the plans, that is.

The doors to the employee parking lot slid open, and the cool late evening air prickled against Dakota’s skin, tenting the hairs on her arms and back of her neck. As she yanked on her jacket, shifting her canvas bag from one shoulder to the other, she glanced up and heaved a sigh of contempt.

Joanna leaned against the Guildhall's brick exterior, holding a cigarette between her fingers. The thin band of smoke danced in the wind, and the embers tumbled to a patch of grass. Her gaze skirted up as she pushed herself from the wall, smashing the end of the cigarette against the red brick behind her.

“What are you doing here, Dakota?” Joanna asked, pushing her sunglasses up her forehead to rest against the crown of her head. Her glare was the definition of poison and, at one time, had been quite effective at sending Dakota scurrying from the clubhouse.

Now, Dakota just scoffed at it.

“Joanna,” Dakota bit out, brushing past the Brotherhood’s matriarch without a second look. “You’ve aged.”

“Cute,” Joanna retorted as she turned on the toes of her boots and stalked after Dakota. “You’ve always been witty.”

Dakota rolled her eyes as her sneakers hit the cracked blacktop of the parking lot. “What can I do for you?”

Joanna remained in step with Dakota, close enough that Dakota could feel the sleeves of their jackets sweeping against one another. “You don’t seem surprised to see me.”

Dakota reached into her pocket and wrapped her fingers around her car keys. “I’m surprised it took you this long to come find me. From the lack of birdsong, it seems you’ve been out here awhile.”

Joanna grasped Dakota’s upper arm and spun her around. “Callum might think that lip is funny, but I promise I don't.”

“I never thought you did,” Dakota replied as she tore free of Joanna’s hand. “And please refrain from putting your rat claws on me. This coat is new.”

Joanna smiled, though it was tight and toothy. “Fascinating that someone as boring and demure as you can catch the attention of the second most powerful man in the Brotherhood.”

“I’m just here to help—“

“Stay away from my sons,” Joanna cut in, her stare flashing dangerously as she glared at Dakota.

Dakota huffed a laugh. “Does Callum know you’re here?”

A group of menders strolled by, their glances side-eyeing Joanna and Dakota with marked interest. Joanna must have noticed because she took a small step back.

“Why are you here?” Joanna insisted. Dakota smirked at the subject change—it was all she needed to know. “I know Daddy didn’t bring you back. You always had an ulterior motive. And you stopped listening to him a long time ago.”

Dakota bristled. “You don’t know anything about me.”

Joanna’s disdainful smirk curled into something that almost resembled a grin. “It may have been twelve years, but that little soul-sucking bitch still lives in there. And I want you out of Norwich and Callum’s life before she comes back.”

“It won’t be a problem much longer,” Dakota said through gritted teeth. Joanna had always been overly protective of her sons. Once upon a time, she had sent Dakota away in tears after Callum’s arrest. A lot had changed since then. She wouldn’t let Joanna get to her now. “I’m gone as soon as I find Lyra.”

“Good,” Joanna retorted. She reached forward to pick a thread from the front of Dakota’s jacket before letting it float to the pavement. “More than the Brotherhood is at stake if you fuck things up for us.”

Dakota cocked her head, eyes narrowing as she scrutinized every inch of Joanna’s face. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Whatever I want it to mean,” Joanna said. She lifted her hand to pat Dakota on the cheek. “Until next time, little Montgomery. Let’s not drag our feet on our way out of town.”