“Arflyn’s grace, Cord,” Garrick admonished him before he was practically thrust into the bedroom. Tegan looked as surprised as him. “Elite Sentinel Tegan,” Garrick greeted as he smoothed his robes, trying to salvage this awkward situation. “You look lovely.”
Tegan looked past him to the closing door. “I will gut him for certain,” she told Garrick firmly.
“And I have no doubt he deserves it,” Garrick replied wryly. “But I believe we need him, for now. Once the Prophecy is fulfilled, you can do whatever you like to him.”
Tegan gave the Crimson Prime Castor a small conspirator’s smile. “Anything?”
“String him up by his toenails.” Her delighted peal of laughter made him smile as he saw some of the heaviness lift off of her. “You are young, Tegan. You have been asked to do a lot, a lot,” he added sorrowfully. “Cord manipulates, he pushes against others’ comforts, but he is a good Akrhyn.” Garrick glanced over his shoulder, ensuring the door was closed. “You will be good for him, you can keep him grounded.”
“You think I am angry at him?” Tegan asked with a slight tilt of her head. “In general or because of the bond?”
“Honestly? With him? Does it matter why?” Garrick asked, and when she smiled again, he continued. “I do not know why I am in your bedroom. It’s actually making me very uncomfortable,” he admitted. “But he came to me, he coerced my children into aiding him, he fed me a fanciful story of flattery, and then he asked me to help in getting you to meet with the Sisters.”
Tegan’s hands laced together in front of her as she listened. “He has no morals,” she mumbled to herself. “And they annoy me.”
“But they were the ones to receive the Prophecy,” Garrick said softly. “Child, like them or loathe them, we are not done yet,” Garrick told her sagely.
“He did well to pick you,” Tegan said as she tugged her wrap on again. “You are wise, honest and have no familial ties to me.”
“I suspect you are right,” Garrick agreed even as he was taken aback at her frankness.
“I struggle,” Tegan blurted. “I am impatient, I want to be doing something, fighting, planning,anything. This”—she plucked at her dress—“wastes my time. Will eventually waste lives. It is a show, nothing more than a track and pony. He knows it too, but he is so damned eager to show how clever he is, he loses sight of the plot. They all do.”
“And the plot is?” Garrick asked her.
“Win this war. Prevent our enemy from ever getting their hands on the female they need,” Tegan looked at him, her eyes filled with seriousness. “I will slit her throat myself rather than let her be taken.”
Garrick bit his tongue. He didn’t doubt the young Elite Sentinel’s resolve, he just didn’t know how to tell hershewas likely to be the female, especially given her very violent solution to the problem. “Your conviction is to be commended,” he said instead. “We would all benefit to heed your words.”
“We could tell the Sisters?” Tegan told him with a small smile.
“I would have no doubt that they already know,” Garrick answered as he held the door open for her. “Shall we find out?”
Cord waited at the bottom of the staircase and looked up at her with a victorious smirk as she came down. Tegan decided it would be easier for her to ignore him, and she would, she told herself as she watched him. His hair was too long, she realised, it hid his eyes. How he could even see was beyond her as she considered the thick strands that fell across his forehead. His softly tousled hair emphasised the high cheekbones and sharp jaw. Her eyes lingered on his lips longer than she would have liked.
“Little tiger,” he greeted her amiably. “Are the claws away?”
“I have six knives strapped to my body. I will gladly lose one inyourbody just to shut you up.”
Garrick choked in surprise at Tegan’s words, more so because of the sweet smile she gave Cord as she walked past him. “I need many,manyyears on this earth to watch you two navigatewhateverthis is.” He laughed at Cord’s scowl as he followed Tegan to Salem’s study. “She will definitely keep you on your toes,” he added smugly.
Cord chose to say nothing, but before they entered the room where the Sisters awaited, he pulled on Garrick’s robe. “You will be alert?” he asked quietly.
“I will,” the elder Akrhyn told him with a solemn nod.
“Thank you.” Cord smiled at him, a genuine unguarded smile, and Garrick was reminded how young the Castor was.
“Just try not to antagonise them,” he warned as he entered the room with his young charge.
Cord saw that Tegan was standing on her own, her eyes focused on the other door in the room. Salem and Michael were talking quietly between themselves. Salem kept glancing at Tegan, but Michael refused to turn his head. Marcus was listening but frowning, and he too kept looking at Tegan with concern. Dark Prime Lucas drank a glass of wine as he took in the room. He had the Three to his left, their heads bowed in quiet reflection, it seemed.
“Where is Leonid?” Cord asked as he closed the door behind him. “We are missing the Father, are we not?” He didn’t miss Michael’s angry scowl or Tegan’s guilty flush as she dipped her head. He now knew why the Blade and Stone were at odds.
“He comes,” Ada answered him with a serene smile.
Tegan’s head snapped up before the door to the room opened, and Cord marvelled at the difference in the Vampyre. His hair was clean and trimmed but tied back in a low ponytail. His face was no longer gaunt; for one of the Made, he looked positively healthy with his skin having good colour. Clear clever blue eyes met Cord’s briefly before the Vampyre strode across the room to his daughter. Tegan, who was careful of displaying emotion, let out a soft whimper as the Vampyre embraced her fully. Cord could not hear the whispered words clearly, but he knew Marcus could, and he did not miss the reassuring grip on Salem’s arm from his Second.
Leonid stepped back from Tegan and regarded the room with a detachment Cord envied. “A ball?”