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)
“Has… anyone come here,” Allhan asked. “Th-the enemy, I mean.”
Dumb question. The place would be full of holes and black bloodstains that smelled like rotting grandmas.
“What do you think,” Shuli muttered with exhaustion. “And please, just go. I do not want to explain any of this hardware to the Brotherhood, but you know what is above even that on my list of shit I don’t want to deal with? Telling Vishous that you got yourself killed in my drawing room because I couldn’t make you stop apologizing for something you didn’t do. He’ll murder me just on principle alone.”
“You could also just call, Al,” Rhamp pointed out. “Phone coverage is great out here.”
“And you got nothing to apologize for.” Shuli paced from window to window, staring out the one-way filtering drapes to the snowy landscape. “So no offense, you can go the fuck home—”
“The s-slayers haven’t come, though, right?” Al glanced back and forth between the pair. “And like, if they haven’t by now, maybe they won’t. M-maybe… they didn’t ask about you.”
Because they were too busy asking about his sister.
Shuli came over and put a hand on his shoulder. “I know you’re a logical guy, but stick to the computer shit, okay?”
He wanted to tell them that this house was not the target. But they wouldn’t believe him without proof, and he sure as hell didn’t want to say—
The doorbell went off, a lovely electronic harp string breaking out in the middle of the armory and aggression like a unicorn trotting through a forest fire.
“It’s goddamn Grand Central Station around here,” Shuli groused as he strode for the front entrance.
There was a pause, and then a rush of cold air rolled in and dimmed down the smell of the gunmetal and banked bullets.
“Oh, no,” Shuli muttered. “No, absolutely not.”
A female voice now. Bitty’s. “I just want to check you’re okay—”
“Nope, we’re not doing this. I appreciate the support, but—”
Allhan went to take a step forward and kicked something hard enough to feel it through the toe of his Converse As he grabbed for the pain, a rattling of metal-on-metal sounded out.
“Watch that,” Rhamp said from his corner. “Those are grenades.”
“Wh-what?” He did what he could to keep his balance because he didn’t know where to set his foot down again. “I can put them back?”
“Please fucking don’t.”
As Shuli and the Brother Rhage’s adopted daughter continued to argue out in front of the house, Rhamp disengaged from his defensible position and came across, cursing under his breath.
“This fucking night.” The fighter knelt at Allhan’s feet and started gathering things. “Everybody’s pissed off. Fucking L.W. bitched about that scene—”
“What scene? Is there another killing?”
“No. We’re still living last night, and we’re going to be for a long time.”
Out in the foyer, the door got slammed shut, and given that Bitty’s voice was still going strong, apparently she’d come inside.
“I’m so sorry,” Allhan said softly. “I know they were your friends.”
“You’re a good dude, Al.” Rhamp finished remaking the pyramid of bang-bangs and stood back up. “You truly are. And they weren’t really my boys, but they did not deserve to die like that.”
“If the slayers haven’t shown up here yet—”
“It doesn’t mean shit. There’s no way Emile and Rolhand didn’t give up whatever they were asked, and the lessers have been trying to find a way to kill the aristocracy for three decades now. Lash was raised by them so he seems to have a special hatred for the glymera.”
“Maybe that wasn’t the information the slayers were looking for.”
“Yeah, sure. Listen, Al, you’ve got a good heart and it was cool of you to come by. But if you really want to help us, you’ll get off the property.” There was a pause, and then Rhamp tacked on, “Or find the address of where the lessers took those two males to work them over—”
“I can do that.”
The fighter went stock-still. “You can?” Then Rhamp cursed. “No, you can’t. The Brotherhood isn’t letting it out, probably to make sure we don’t go there.”
“I can absolutely get it for you.”
Shuli thundered back into the parlor, and going by the sweet scent in the air, Bitty was with him. “I might as well make fucking canapés at this point—”
“Shut up, Shuli.” Rhamp stepped in tight. “How can you get the address.”
Allhan held the fighter’s eyes steady. “That’s not your problem, and I have one stipulation—”
The front door to the mansion flew open like something had dropped out of the sky and busted it wide.
The Brother Rhage marched into the house, and for once, there was no jokey hi-how’re-ya, no swagger, no cutup commentary. In fact, the wave of aggression that preceded him was enough to make the walls bow.
Oh, so that was what he’d sensed outside, Allhan realized. The Brotherhood was doing more than just electronically monitoring this property from afar. They or their soldiers were on site.