Allegiance(33)
Pulling out a sheet of paper from his coat pocket, Frank rose and handed it to Matthias. “The plan is my concern. Yours is to tell me the strengths and weaknesses of everyone on that list.”
Matthias scanned the short column of names. Most of them he recognized from his own research into Penton.
“Fine.” He returned to his seat. “Where do you want me to start?”
Frank sipped his brandy and smiled. “Start with your friend Cage Reynolds.”
CHAPTER 10
Cage followed Robin and Nik into the big common room of the community house the new Pentonites would be sharing with Mirren, Glory, and Melissa, at least for now.
The idea of seeing Melissa filled him with guilt. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d spent the whole ride back from the job site acting like a sex-starved horndog with the fierce little shape-shifter, not thinking about their lost team member, or about how he might help Max cope with losing his best friend, or about the woman he wanted to let down gently and keep as a friend.
Cage suspected he wouldn’t recognize friendship if it bit him on his horny arse.
The scent of vanilla candles made the big, warm room of the comm-house soothing, even relaxing. The sweetness blended with the pungent scent of new wood and the rich, velvety aroma of overstuffed leather furniture. This felt like a home, or what Cage imagined a real home might be like. A fire burned low in the stone fireplace, its flames crackling enough to add ambience without making the room too hot, casting soothing shadows on the arched tray ceiling. A crimson rug stretched across the bamboo floor.
Who’d ever have imagined that the Slayer, once the Tribunal’s most feared executioner, would end up with the most domestic setup in Penton?
Must be the result of having two women in the house who both had an interest in nesting. Cage hadn’t seen the insides of Aidan’s or Will’s houses yet, but neither Krys nor Randa struck him as domestic types. Although he’d lay odds that their community houses looked a hell of a lot better than the spartan digs he and Fen had moved into last night, where Max and Hannah lived. If GI Joe moved in with Barbie, their place would resemble the Max and Hannah house, all camo and pink. Unsettling, that.
He’d planned to spend tonight making sure Fen wasn’t up to anything more than he claimed, but nothing about this evening had gone as planned. He’d halfway expected to find Fen here, sucking up to Mirren for a permanent spot in the scathe—but Aidan was here instead, standing in the doorway with an expression that hovered somewhere between shell-shocked and furious.
No sign of Fen, though, nor of Melissa. And Aidan’s look meant trouble. He was the most even-tempered man Cage had ever met, but when he finally lost it, everyone had better get out of the line of fire. He was as close to losing it as Cage had seen since the worst days of the Omega siege.
Krys spoke. “Mel went to see Mark, if that’s who you’re looking for, Cage.” Cage looked behind him, to where she had curled up in one of the corner armchairs with a glass of wine. Thank God vampires could still drink, although it would take an enormous volume to create any kind of real buzz. Maybe he’d start an experiment to find out.
He sank into the buttery leather seat of the adjacent sofa and poured himself some wine from the bottle on the end table. He looked at his half-filled wine glass for a second, then finished filling it up to the top.
Melissa had rushed to see Mark; he wondered how much, or little, to read into it. “That’s understandable. She’d want to reassure herself that he was going to recover.”
“I think the two of you need to talk.” Krys’s expression was unreadable, but Cage recognized a knowing comment when he heard one.
“That we do.” He sipped his wine, looked at the bottle, and topped off his glass. “Nice vintage. You weren’t happy to see me return, I imagine.”
Krys’s dark-brown eyes were somber. “I don’t think you and Mel are right for each other, but you’re wrong about the rest. I was really glad to hear you were coming back to Penton. We need you. Especially . . .” She trailed off and looked at Aidan with worry etched into every feature.
An adrenaline spike sent a rush of heat through Cage’s limbs, and he sat forward and put down his glass. “What else has happened?” Had he missed something while his brain had been preoccupied with the feisty little shifter? “What is it? Did Aidan talk to the colonel?”
Krys locked gazes with Aidan and gave a slow nod in response to some unspoken communication between them. Aidan was a strong master vampire—the strongest Cage had ever encountered—so he and Krys, as his bond-mate, probably had the ability to communicate telepathically. Which was damned inconvenient for everyone else.