Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 132437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
“You don’t know that.”
“It is reality, just like what is in the stars.” t’On put up both his palms to cut off her defiance. “You are the savior of the Territory. Not your mother. Without you, the throne is lost, the s’Hisbe is wiped out—and everything we have ever been is gone. That is your destiny for the common good, but of course, you are free to choose.”
What about her parents, she thought. What about her mother as the rightful Queen.
“Don’t you think all this is a conflict of interest for you,” she murmured. “The two of us get mated, you’re in power, too.”
“With all due respect, do you not consider there is something wrong that I was the one who showed you your chart.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“You tell me.” t’On shrugged, clearly unwilling to waste time arguing with her. “This is all up to you. I know how much you love your mother and sire, and my devotion unto the Queen has never been in question. That is why she has entrusted me with my position, and to her, I will always remain true. The s’Hisbe must be first in all our hearts, however.”
“The stars could be wrong.”
“No, they cannot. But you can do the wrong thing. I am prepared to sacrifice what I must. What about you.”
As the Tretary opened the door, there was a blast of cold air, and after he shut things behind himself, she stayed where she was. As the wind continued to howl, she glanced around the empty interior. With just her collection of robes hanging on their lonely rack, she felt like the traditional drapes represented the s’Hisbe and its isolated way of life that had gone on for generations in this tract of a thousand acres north and east of Caldwell proper.
Defending the Territory’s privacy had mandated a very specific interface with the human world. As far as those rats without tails knew, the Shadows were a religious sect that fell under the rubric and protection of the tax-exempt status afforded by the government.
But as with everything lately, there was constant pressure from all kinds of quarters.
And her chart had been very clear.
The Territory was in grave danger of being dismantled—her parents dead, the throne lost, all the traditions and citizenry gone, gone, gone. To keep this from happening, her destiny was to take the crown from her mother and mate the Tretary, producing the next heir immediately. And it all was triggered by two falling stars appearing at 9:19 p.m. one winter’s night.
Rubbing her tired eyes, she hated where her mind went.
Why hadn’t her mother and father ever told her? Was it because Catra didn’t want to relinquish the throne? Maybe the Queen didn’t believe in the stars as much as she was supposed to, and didn’t want to give up power?
Except she loved her parents, and knew them only to be kind, moral, and very decent people.
So the mistrust she had long pushed aside, but suddenly couldn’t ignore, seemed like a curse all its own.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
As Rhysallhan started ascending the pitch-dark staircase of his family’s mansion, he couldn’t believe he had another sterling silver candlestick in his hand. It wasn’t the one he’d turned into a murder weapon, but the beeswax stalk lighting his way was absolutely the same as what he’d removed and left on the dining room sideboard.
Beneath his numb feet, the steps creaked, and given the lull in the thunderstorms, everything seemed very loud. Perhaps that was because the lights remained extinguished, and lack of sight did tend to heighten one’s other instincts.
Or maybe he was on edge because he’d just, you know, killed someone.
Killed his own father.
Their own father.
When he got to the raincoat that his sister had dropped in her upset, he gathered the wet folds and kept on going. At the second story’s landing, he looked back and forth, and wished they had a generator. Old houses, though. Even if the Caldwell electrical grid had been updated over the decades, this estate had not been. And now it would never be.
At least not by anybody from their family.
As he started down to the left, he thought of generators, and how they’d probably have needed a commercial-grade unit to run the entire house. But at least if they’d had one, he could have turned the security system on.
And been sure that the slayer his father had been dealing with was not trying to reenter through other doors, other windows.
He’d checked the lock on the front door twice before he’d come up here to find Carmen. Nothing felt strong enough, though.
Fates, had he really just spoken with a lesser? Had he really just promised the enemy the locations of the Black Dagger Brotherhood’s primary residences?
But what choice had he had? It was either that or he and his sister were both going to end up dead tonight. That slayer had come looking for the information he’d paid Chritophe for… or blood.