“Not only him.” Broderick’s blue eyes are stark. “Both Aisling and Ciar have blood on their hands because of that fire. Maybe Eli knew about it, maybe he didn’t, but we know those two did. The drugs that put everyone to sleep came from the Mystics, and the Amazons set the fire. We know that as truth.”
“I know.” I drain my bottle and set it on the desk with a clink. “First we get this faction in order. Then we start looking to their borders. We have the year to prepare, to put our plans in motion. No matter how things fall out with Eli, we won’t be turned from this. I promise.”
“Good.” He pushes to his feet and sets his bottle next to mine. “Honestly, if you can bring Eli around to our side, it would simplify matters. The less time it takes to bring our faction to order, the faster we can move on to the next part of the plan.” Broderick turns and walks out of the office without looking back.
He’s been the steady one for eight long years, so I don’t know why it surprises me so much to see the hairline fractures in his control. I’ll have to keep an eye on him. The pressure he’s under is already astronomical—and that’s without Monroe adding gasoline to the situation and gleefully lighting a match.
A knock sounds before I can leave the room. I grab the bottles and toss them into the trash under the desk. “Come in.”
Harlow slips through the door. She gives a little smile when she sees me, and fuck if that doesn’t brighten up my whole day. I hold out a hand. “Come here.”
She walks into my arms without hesitation and, yeah, I like this a whole hell of a lot, too. I kiss her, and she goes soft against me for a long moment before she steps back. “I know this might be hard to believe, but I didn’t come here for a quickie on your desk.”
“Sweetheart, you wound me. There would be nothing quick about it.”
She shakes her head, that little smile still pulling at the edges of her lips. “Did you talk to Eli?”
“First I want to hear about how things went with Fallon and Monroe.”
She gives me a long look. “I didn’t peg you for a man who avoids hard topics.”
“Play your cards right and you can just flat-out peg me.”
She blinks. “You have yourself a deal.”
I motion for her to sit. “Tell me how the meeting went.”
“Fine.” Harlow takes the seat Broderick had earlier and gives me a quick rundown. It’s about what I expected. Having multiple members of the family is the only way that will ensure anything resembling good behavior. The Amazons and Mystics might have little in the way of honor when it comes to dealing with us, but they won’t fuck over their own. I eye Harlow once she finishes. “You threw Broderick under the bus.”
“Correction: I assumed Broderick was more than capable of dealing with anything Monroe brings to the plate and negotiated accordingly.”
She has me there. Before my conversation with my brother, I wouldn’t have doubted that, but there’s a lot about this situation that I didn’t anticipate. “We’ll figure it out as we go.”
Harlow studies me for a moment. “I’m assuming that the required escort will be planting more of those fancy listening devices like the ones you used with Old Town.”
I allow myself a satisfied grin. “That would be telling.”
“They’re paranoid enough to sweep the place after your group leaves every day.”
I shrug. “At first. But human nature is always to do as little as possible, and familiarity breeds even more laziness. After a few weeks, they won’t be as diligent. Our people will just be another normal occurrence in the other territories.” I should leave it there, but Harlow’s operated in good faith to this point. “And where do you think Fallon and Monroe are going to get the clothes they wear to all those meetings?”
Surprise and appreciation flare in her dark eyes. “You’re going to bug their clothes.”
“Yes.” Not a foolproof plan on its own, but cast the net wide enough and we’ll pull something useful. We have a year to play this game, and once our faction is stabilized, we can afford to use up every bit of that time.
“Clever.” She sits back and crosses one long leg over the other. “Now, about that conversation…”
I bite back a sigh. I could kiss her and let sex distract us, but Harlow’s too stubborn to let this go, and we’ll just be having an identical conversation when we finally surface from the orgasms. “Eli and I talked.”
She’s back to watching my expression closely. “He never would have hurt you or your brothers.”
“No, he just facilitated my father getting his throat slit.”