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)
“They brought a resolution of notice passed by their Metro Council. They are prepared to exercise eminent domain over our lands if we do not sell. I took care of the two men, but that is not going to solve the issue with the larger group. They will be back.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Have you spoken with my parents?”
“To your mother, of course. Right away.”
“And?”
“That is for her to communicate to you. I am but an appointed servant, and in that capacity, I owe the one to whom I am indebted for my position ultimate discretion.”
Denne looked away. Looked back. t’On had always gotten on her nerves a little bit because he was so stiff and rule-bound, but his devotion to the s’Hisbe and her parents had never been in question. He was resolutely loyal, unfailingly protective, and forever giving his best.
Maybe it wasn’t so much that she was irritated by him, but that, as when it came to her father and this place, she envied the purpose he had.
“You are a good male,” she said with resignation.
Instantly, t’On’s posture eased, and she had the sense he was, for once, being honest instead of honorable: “I know you have no love for me, but there is mutual regard and the stars are never wrong. What they provide is the truth we can choose to embrace before it is forced down our throats by destiny. It does not matter that your heart is not with me in a romantic sense. The s’Hisbe is all that matters. You and you alone have been chosen to define our future. Few are anointed with such sway, and what you do next will reveal your character.”
“There is no love between us,” she echoed. Unnecessarily.
“Not true. You love the s’Hisbe and so do I. That is where the love is.” He motioned around the restaurant. “Do you really wish to choose a present you have no ties to over the legacy of your blood- line?”
Denne rubbed her face and wondered why she had to be the one in this position.
After a moment, t’On bowed with the restrained dignity he had always shown. “I know I have made my decision and I shall be able to sleep during the day soundly for however long I live. Will you be able to do the same, I wonder.”
As he left, she wanted to throw something. Not at him. He was stuck in this mess just like she was.
God, she wished she’d never seen those two stars.
They were ruining her life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
L.W. should never have fucking left tonight.”
As Shuli repeated that mantra, he paced out of his drawing room, crossed the foyer to the dining room, and looked out the bulletproof windows to the lawn. With everything dark in the house and the filtering drapes in place, he was able to easily visualize the lane out in front and all the absolutely-nothing going on. The same was true for the back gardens, and both side perimeters of his property.
All afternoon and into the evening, he’d been roaming the floor plan, staring out the thick glass, searching for trouble and finding nada. Every second had seemed like the precursor for an attack, but as the no-problems had stretched over the course of hours and hours, a conclusion was starting to form in his head.
Was it possible that Emile and Rolhand had held up under interrogation? That even after they had been tortured for God knew how long… they hadn’t revealed anything about where the glymera lived? He’d imagined they would have kept quiet about their own families’ houses, trading intel on everybody else’s to keep their bloodlines safe.
But with none of the enemy showing up here? Or anywhere else?
It was possible those males had been stronger than anybody knew. Still, he had to stay sharp.
Shuli continued to stare over the snowdrifts, then measured the moon in the clear, starry sky. He wanted lessers to show up here. Wanted to welcome them into the elegant, white interior of the house he’d bought with his dead parents’ money.
And then he wanted to turn the whole goddamn inside into his own version of a Jackson Pollock.
“I’ve called that fucker five times,” Rhamp said from the parlor. “Texted him in code.”
Yeah, the whole code thing, Shuli thought wryly as he went to the next window. They’d devised a way to communicate so the Brotherhood didn’t know what they were saying—not that someone like Allhan couldn’t figure it out if pressed, but it was better than being obvious.
After all, when you were deliberately flaunting an order not to go into the field, covering your tracks only made sense.
“Call that dipshit again,” Shuli said as he paused by the sideboard and leaned in to look at himself in a polished serving platter. “Motherfucker wants lessers. They could well come here tonight to fight. But noooooo, he’s got to go downtown and be—”