Assail’s curled upper lip dropped back into place.
Although he had been prepared to intercede in the event of a drug/money exchange, he felt no such compulsion the now.
If the Forelesser wanted to use his profits to buy armaments, that was his business.
Leaving the boathouse the way he came in, Assail cast himself up river, toward his glass house upon its peninsula.
The only thing he cared about was whether that lesser continued to deliver product to the streets and clubs of Caldwell in a timely, reliable and honest fashion.
His responsibility started and ended there.
“No, no, I’m fine. Honest.”
As Rhage spoke, he sat down at the rough-cut table in the Brotherhood mansion’s kitchen. The rest of the household was gathering for an early Last Meal, doggen filing in and out of the flap door, delivering silver trays the size of tabletops stacked with all manner of freshly cooked meats and starches and vegetables.
Across the way, Mary leaned against the granite-topped center island, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes trained on him like she was assessing one of her social-work patients.
Squirming, he wanted to go join his brothers and their shellans, but given her expression, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
“Fritz?” she said. “I’m going to fix him something, okay?”
The butler paused in the process of bringing a table setting over. “I was going to make up a plate in the other room and bring it—”
“I’m going to take care of my husband,” she said gently, but firmly. “If you like, however—even though it goes against every self-sufficient bone in my body—I’ll leave you the pan and dishes to clean up.”
Fritz’s old, wrinkled face assumed the expression of a basset hound who was being denied chicken for the promise of beef later on: both worried and excited. “Is there not some manner in which I may render you aid?”
Three staff members in their gray-and-white uniforms came back empty-handed from the dining room, the trio heading for the final loads that were destined to be carried in and placed on the various sideboards in that huge, chandeliered space.
“Actually,” his Mary murmured, “do you think he and I could have some privacy in here?”
“Oh, yes, mistress.” Fritz brightened somewhat. “As soon as the presentation of the victuals has been made, I will direct my staff into the foyer. They will be most happy to tarry out there.”
“Thank you.” She gave his thin arm a squeeze, making him blush. “And just until it’s time for dessert to be served. I know that you’ll want free rein in here for that.”
“Yes, mistress. Thank you, mistress. And I shall personally clean up after you both.”
The butler bowed deeply, grabbed the last silver tray, and ushered everyone out. As the flap door stilled, Rhage’s beloved shellan looked over at him.
“Eggs?” she said.
At the one word, Rhage’s stomach let out a roar. “Oh, God, that sounds amazing.”
Mary nodded and went over to the Sub-Zero. Taking out a fresh carton, she grabbed a gallon container of whole milk and a box of butter; then hit the cupboards, snagging a frying pan, a big mixing bowl, and various and sundry utensils.
“So,” she said as she broke the first of twelve eggs. “I’d really like to hear what happened out there.”
Up until this moment, Rhage had been successful in ducking that question. Apparently, the reprieve was over.
“I’m fine, honest.”
“Okay.” She paused in mid-crack and smiled at him. “As your wife, though, how you are is really important to me. So if there’s something bothering you, it makes me feel left out if I don’t know what it is.”
Ugh. Just … ugh.
As she began whisking the gallon of nascent scrambled egg, the sloshy sound reminded him of his own head.
Looking down at the pitted tabletop, he picked at one of the veins in the broad oak boards. “The truth is, I don’t know what happened. I just felt really weird and had to sit down. I’m tight now, though. Probably just one of those random things.”
“Mmm, well, tell me what your night was like.”
“It was no big deal. I headed to the Band of Bastards’ safe house and went through it—”
“Didn’t you start down in the clinic, with Trez and Selena?”
“Oh, yeah. But that was, like, yesterday when she was … you know, taken there.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to think about that right now, if you don’t mind.”
“Okay, so tonight you went to the Band of Bastards’ place?”
“Well, first we went to Abalone’s. His cousin defected from Xcor’s troops and told us where their hideout was. Anyway, me and V went through the place.”