Glorious Rivals (The Grandest Game, #2) (47)

“Xan?” Nash drawled. “Give us a minute.”

“I’m sensing that my presence might be adding some stress to an already emotionally wrought situation,” Xander said, holding his hands palms up. “But I think we can all agree that I really want to see this.”

Jameson glowered at him and pointed to the door.

“Grumpy Charades?” Xander deliberately misconstrued the situation. “I love Grumpy Charades!”

“Gray invoked On Spake,” Nash informed him.

“Grayson made an invocation?” Xander raised both eyebrows. “The same Grayson Hawthorne who once claimed that the sacred rite of On Spake expired when he was ten?”

“Xander.” Avery entered the suite—and the fray—still gowned in the golden infinity gown.

“Milady,” Xander replied.

Avery met his gaze. “Please?”

That, more even than Jameson’s behavior, set Grayson’s teeth on edge. Whatever is going on here—she knows. Avery had more sense than Jameson did, but she didn’t scare easily, either.

“Xan.” Nash fixed their youngest brother with a look. “I’ve got them.” Xander was the great mediator. This was Nash telling him that everything was going to be okay. “And,” Nash added, “there are scones in the kitchen.”

“Foul play,” Xander told Nash. “And for the record: I want photographs, plural, of any and all wrestling that ensues.” With that, Xander took his leave. There was a shift in the air when he did, the slightest dissipation of tension.

Like Grayson had told Lyra, he would have died for his brothers—all of them, any of them, but Xander was the baby, and he was Xander. Whatever this was, it damn well wasn’t going to touch him. Or Libby. Or Avery. Or Lyra.

Though clearly, the last two were already in this up to their elbows.

“Eve is messing with the game,” Grayson told Avery, catching her up to speed. “She’s the one who sent Lyra her ticket, which I know because Eve somehow snuck onto Hawthorne Island tonight and approached Lyra. And despite what Eve offered her—millions, by the way—Lyra told me.” He swiveled his gaze to Jameson. “Because Lyra is not a threat.”

Jameson opened his mouth to argue, then remembered. On Spake.

“I’m not saying that there isn’t a threat,” Grayson continued. “But the notes on the trees and Lyra’s presence in the game—those were Eve. And given that Eve somehow managed to make it onto Hawthorne Island, it’s likely enough that the blackout during phase one was her doing as well.”

“What’s Eve’s endgame?” Avery spoke because Jameson could not.

“Eve is not the reason I called On Spake.” Grayson directed his next words only to Jameson. “You don’t want me even saying the name Alice Hawthorne, but the night Lyra’s biological father killed himself, he said three things to her. He wished her a happy birthday. He told her A Hawthorne did this. And then he spoke a sentence that contained a riddle masked with a deletion code, the answer to which was omega.”

Jameson took a heavy step toward Grayson. It was fairly clear how this particular invocation of On Spake was going to end.

Grayson was not deterred. It wouldn’t be the first time he and Jameson fought. It very likely would not be the last. And he’d made Lyra a promise. “Lyra’s father also gave her two things that night. A candy necklace holding only three pieces of candy. And a flower—a calla lily.”

Jameson stayed right where he was, a flicker of recognition in his gaze. You’re thinking of the music box puzzle. Good.

“Lyra is starting to see that night as a game on par with the kind the old man used to lay out for us,” Grayson continued. “A series of puzzles, albeit nonsequential ones in this case. Lyra has solved three of the four: A Hawthorne did this. Alice. What begins a bet? Not that. Omega—not the beginning of the alphabet but the end. The candy necklace—the significance there appears to be the number three. Incidentally, Nash, is someone keeping tabs on Odette Morales?”

“A certain lawyer says Ms. Morales has pulled a disappearing act.”

Grayson wondered who Odette was hiding from. Not us—or not just us, anyway. “Do you know what Ms. Morales told Lyra and me, Jamie?” Grayson turned his attention back to his silent brother, to the dark, frenetic energy that he could practically see vibrating beneath the surface of Jameson’s skin. “She said that there are always three.”

“Three what?” Nash said.

“Don’t know.” Grayson clipped the words—and kept his eyes on Jameson, who’d just taken another step toward him.

Avery put herself in Jameson’s path, then turned toward Grayson. “Gray.” Hazel eyes that Grayson knew all too well settled on his. “You need to stop.”

Like Jameson, Avery clearly didn’t want Grayson even talking about this, let alone asking questions. But for better or worse, Avery Kylie Grambs was a Hawthorne now in every way that mattered.

“Avery?” Now it was Grayson’s turn to hold her gaze. “On Spake.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it again, and Grayson got back to business. “Of the puzzles Lyra’s father laid out for her that night,” he told Avery and Jameson both, “that just leaves the calla lily. Its meaning is still unknown, but earlier tonight, someone left a fresh one positioned just so on a rock next to the helipad.” Grayson flicked his gaze between the two of them. “I can see that I was right in assuming that lily was not a part of the game. Eve claimed it wasn’t her doing, either. Lyra believes her, and I believe Lyra.”