Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 48827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
“Valor,” Lachlan says, his jaw going taught, “has been putting feelers out for her brother for quite some time, despite my argument against it. She's doing her best to lure some kind of communication with him. If it happens, I assure you, everyone at this table will be the first to know.”
“So we need to set a trap,” Talia offers, and pride bolts through my chest. She has a voice here, a strong and confident and very capable voice that has me absolutely even more mad for her than I was before.
“We set a trap,” Talon says, nodding at her.
“Ransom,” Alek says as Ransom heads toward the bank of computers across the room.
“Already on it,” Ransom answers, clicking away at the keyboard so fast my eyes can barely follow. “Got it,” he says, heading back to the table. “I've sent a list of all the known places Conrad has already stolen from to your devices. We need to hit research mode, compiling a list of any other known aristocratic lines that he might be hitting and the artifacts he might be going after. Once we find a viable item, we can spring a trap.”
“Perfect,” Talia says, scooting away from the table, the rest of us following suit after Alek does. “I'll hit the records room in the library now,” she says, then glances at me. “Will you show me where it is?”
I nod, then look to Talon, Ajax, and Dagon. “Will you three check on Saint before going on patrol tonight?”
“Always do,” Dagon says before bowing slightly to the king and walking out of the room with Ajax and Talon.
Alek, Lachlan, Hawke, Ransom, and Benedict all linger near the sitting area of the war room, clearly having more to discuss than what’s in our need to know.
“I'll let you know when we find something,” I say to Alek before dipping my head and guiding Talia out of the war room.
The door shuts behind us, locking automatically as I guide her through the residence to the grand library, where the records room rests inside.
Talia pauses when the door shuts behind us, arching her neck to take in the stacks upon stacks of ancient tomes the room holds. There isn't another soul in here at this time of night, which is damn near close to dawn.
“Okay, now I see why it pays to be king,” she says, spinning slightly to take in all the books.
I laugh softly. “Never mind the infinite power and wealth and prestige or ruling over an entire species. Bring on the books?”
“Power and wealth and prestige can chafe after a while, but books? Books are always a good idea.”
“I'm glad you think so,” I say. “Because we're about to have to dig in.”
Three hours and countless tomes later, Talia and I have compiled a viable list of possible places Conrad might hit in the upcoming weeks. “We’ll have to dispatch assassins to some of the locations that are farther away,” I say, leaning back in the chair. “But we’re getting lucky that there are a few ancient homes in Edgemont.”
“Thanks to its royal historic location,” Talia adds. “We’ll be able to discuss a possible trap for tomorrow evening. Shouldn't we take this list to Alek now?” Talia asks.
“No,” I say, scooting back from my chair at the table in the center of the room, grabbing a stack of books, and heading toward the shelf I’d taken them from.
Talia follows behind me, looking delectable as fuck with her hair mussed from running her fingers through it so much as we researched.
“It's information that can wait until nighttime,” I explain as I put back the books one by one.
“It's only nine a.m.,” she says. “Surely not everyone is in bed yet.”
I finish putting the last book away, then turn to face her. “Precisely,” I say, cocking a brow down at her. “Nine a.m.”
“And?” she asks, totally oblivious.
“And,” I say, doing my best to keep the three-foot distance between us despite everything in me wanting to cross it. “It's nine a.m. and almost everyone in this residence is mated. What do you think they're doing?”
“Oh,” she says, a little surprise fluttering over her features. “Of course,” she says, shaking her head as if she's chiding herself.
She glances down the row of stacks that we’re standing in, her eyes falling on the last few tomes scattered across the table we'd abandoned seconds ago. She flicks her fingers, and the books rise in the air, flying gracefully before tucking themselves back into their spaces.
“I've always admired that gift,” I say, truly astounded by the power she possesses. “I remember when you used to pull my tea just out of reach.”
She bites back her smile. “And I remember how furious you pretended to be when I did it.”
“I always wondered what it would be like to move things with my mind,” I say.