Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Wrath slowly rose out of his chair, and Tohr stepped forward. You know, just in case.
The one thing nobody needed in this situation . . . was another dead aristocrat.
“Message received,” the King said. “You can go now.”
Whestmorel’s smile was chilling. “On the contrary. I did not come here to deliver a—”
“The hell you didn’t. If you’d actually read the crime procedures, you’d know I’m not going to comment on an active investigation to a non-family member. So this is a flex that you are the representative of a faction of powerful, wealthy individuals who are meeting in secret behind my back—and you all think I had a member of the aristocracy killed.”
“I did not say that, and I shall not let you put words in my mouth—”
Wrath’s head jerked to the left, and V, who was clearly having trouble holding his temper, threw up his hands—as he was obviously being warned to continue keeping his yap shut.
The King then refocused his attention on the aristocrat. “I’ll meet with any of you, anytime, anywhere. I’m not worried about what you are doing in the background. The throne is mine. Try to take it. G’head.”
“You think because you’ve got an heir, you’re invincible,” Whestmorel said in a low tone. “But kings only rule upon the consent of their subjects. I wouldn’t take that for granted if I were you.”
With a quick shift, Tohr got in between the two of them before he was aware of moving.
“You’re leaving,” he growled at the male. “Right now—”
The aristocrat just kept staring at Wrath. “You need your guard to speak for you? Is he going to tell me that you didn’t have Broadius killed?”
“No,” Wrath said calmly. “He’s getting in between us because he’s worried I’m going to hurt you. But I’m not going to do that. A male like you doesn’t get to pull my levers, no matter what words he throws around. The reality is this, if you were a threat to me, a real threat, you wouldn’t come here to tip your hand like this.”
The King lifted his dagger hand and made a gun out of his thumb and forefinger. Pointing it at Whestmorel’s head, he bared his fangs.
“You’d just . . .” Wrath nicked his thumb down. “Bang. Drop me where I stand.”
Tohr was very aware of his heart skipping and then going full-tilt boogie in his chest. Especially when Whestmorel continued to hold his ground.
“I’m not hearing you deny anything,” the male said. “And that’s fine. Keep targeting people like us. It makes conversion very, very easy. It’s a favor to us, really.”
“News flash, you’re not that important. I know this comes as a shock, but none of you matter. The only list you’re on is your own.”
“We survived the Lessening Society.” Whestmorel’s voice started to tremble with anger. “And we will survive you and the Brotherhood—”
“Nobody’s coming after any of you. But if you’re looking to change that, keep knocking on my door with bullshit accusations. I’ll answer it, I promise you.”
On that note, the meeting was over. As Whestmorel wheeled away and headed for the door, V and Qhuinn stepped out with him, and Tohr shut himself in with Wrath and the dog.
When he looked at the King, he found himself surprised. Instead of the out-of-control fury of the past, Wrath remained deadly calm. Hell, he didn’t even seem surprised.
“In the last thirty years,” Wrath murmured, “have they organized at any other time?”
“No, not that we were aware. They were just re-adjusting their standards from bloodlines to bank accounts.”
Wrath nodded as he sat back down. “So now they’ve got a critical mass. That’s why they’re coming forward.”
“I know we didn’t kill Broadius.” Tohr paced back and forth. “And it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that people who deal with people who deal in guns can wake up dead in their own bed at any minute.”
“You got that right.” Wrath leaned to the side and stroked his dog’s head. “We need to find that killer. Fast.”
“Yes, my Lord.” Tohr bowed to his King. “We’re doing everything we can. We’re going to find the supplier of those guns, and when we do, I have a feeling we’ll be looking the murderer in the face.”
“Maybe. Or maybe not. Whestmorel and his group could have killed him themselves—or, even more likely, had someone do it.” Wrath shook his head and eased back. “These new glymera-types are just bound and determined to follow in the footsteps of their predecessors, aren’t they. Right into their own fucking graves.”
The great Blind King smiled coldly. “But like I said, if they want a try at the throne? I welcome the challenge.”
CHAPTER THIRTY–ONE
Apex held Callum until the flames in the hearth were so low, there was nothing to them, just a glow under all the ash. The wolven had fallen still a while ago, but he hadn’t retreated. They’d just stretched out together on the floor, the other male lying on Apex’s chest with his head tucked in.