Resurrected King - Kaye Blue Page 0,39

in no position to refuse.”

“Do you know how he got you out?”

I shook my head.

“And you never asked?”

“At the time, the details weren’t important, and as the years passed, they become even less so.”

I knew then this wasn’t simply a fishing expedition.

He didn’t really care about specifics, except maybe to find who Etienne had paid off and have him killed.

And interesting as our past might have been, he hadn’t gone to all this trouble just to reminisce. He wanted something. I didn’t know what but suspected I would soon enough.

“You were the best soldier I ever trained,” he said.

I didn’t respond, deciding that there was no need to. Besides, he would get to the point, whatever that was, when he was ready and not a moment before.

“Too bad things ended the way they did.”

For years I had agreed, but as fucked up as it was, all that shit with the Commander had brought me to her. And I couldn’t make myself regret that. Which made me the monster I feared she believed me to be.

“You’ve been meddling in my business,” the Commander said, pulling me from my thoughts of Adora.

“Didn’t know it was yours,” I said.

“It is. So what do you think of it?” he asked.

I waited a moment, considering, and then decided to tell the truth.

A smile curved my lips.

“The arson has a touch of something, but in the end, you’re a glorified real estate agent.”

“So I am,” he said, his full belly laugh genuine.

“Why?” I asked, curious myself.

“Diversification. The world is changing, and I’m not going to let it pass me by.”

“And real estate is great for money laundering,” I added.

“That too,” he said, still laughing.

“So no more talk of duty? Honor?”

He sobered then.

“What the fuck does that even mean? What did it ever?”

I understood the question, had asked myself that many times before.

Those years I had spent with him, doing my duty, fighting for a cause.

What bullshit.

“Maybe you could have told me that all those years ago instead of feeding me lies,” I said.

“It wouldn’t gotten through. You were a good soul. A talented killer, but a good soul, nonetheless. Reality wouldn’t have suited you then.”

“And now?” I asked, sensing we were getting closer to what he actually wanted.

“And now I’m wondering if I underestimated you. Your reputation and that of the Brotherhood is interesting, to say the least.”

Now I was sure this was serious. I’d never heard the Commander express anything like doubt, certainly never heard him reconsider anything.

But he was doing so now, and that meant something. What was yet to be determined.

He kept his gaze leveled on me, his eyes dark, predatory, but then softening in a way I knew was calculated.

It didn’t work on me, but there was no reason to let him know that.

“Brotherhood is an interesting concept. Do you think of Etienne as your brother?”

“Yes,” I responded without hesitation.

And I did. He was cold, callous even, but he’d saved my life and over the years had proven to be honest, which was more than I could say for most.

“And how far does that loyalty go?” he asked.

“As far as it needs to,” I responded.

It wasn’t the answer he was expecting.

“What does that mean, Mikhail?”

“You’re testing me, Commander.”

“Go on,” he said.

“First, you gave her,” I refused to say her name, “that file.”

He didn’t deny it. “I wanted to see how you’d react.”

My heart thudded with anger deeper than I’d ever felt. He’d caused her pain for no reason at all. That didn’t surprise me. I’d seen him do it before, had helped him, but knowing what he’d done to Adora, knowing he’d done so for no reason, made me hate him even more than I already did.

But I couldn’t give that away, couldn’t give anything away. Not yet.

“And now you’re giving me an impossible choice,” I said matter of factly.

“How?” he asked.

“If I’m loyal to Etienne, I’m of no use to you, so you’ll kill me. If I say I’m not, you’ll think me a traitor, so you’ll kill me. A conundrum, don’t you think?”

I stayed calm, which he approved of.

“That would typically be a correct assessment, but not in this case,” he said.

As if to prove his point, he gestured toward one of the two men who stood sentry in the back of the room, and in the next few seconds, my wrists were free, then my ankles, then the strap holding my thighs.

I twisted my hands, the blood flow returning painful, but the pain was welcome.

“We history, Mikhail. We’d do