Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 128061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Not long after Edgar disappeared, the basandere moved gracefully across the yard and went straight for the flowers. She chose a particularly thick cluster and began delicately plucking one flower at a time. After obtaining a handful, she turned and sprinted into the trees, disappearing quickly.
Edgar came running out a moment later, hands out, looking around the garden wildly. He walked directly to the place the basandere had just been and scratched his head. He clearly couldn’t tell what had been stolen. He’d met his match in the subtle flower thief.
“Damn it,” Austin said softly, grabbing his phone and standing from the chair.
This call had to be made.
He walked from the room so he didn’t wake Jess, making his way down to her private sitting room. Other than her bedroom, it was the most comfortable place in the house.
“Do you need anything, sire?” Mr. Tom, mostly obscured by deep shadow, asked from the end of the corridor.
Austin hadn’t even noticed his presence. How was that possible?
“No, I’m fine.” He paused. “Why were you standing there?”
“You’ve been toiling over something, have you not? While the miss is sleeping soundly? I thought I would remain on hand in case you needed a nightcap or an ear. Maybe a brandy. How about some marijuana? I hear it is all the rage nowadays. I picked some up from the dispensary just in case someone might need it.”
All Austin could do was stare for a moment. “I’m good. Thanks.”
He went to turn down the hall, then paused. Damn it.
“Whiskey. Neat. Something top shelf if you’ve got it.”
“Of course I have it,” Mr. Tom replied stiffly. “What do you take me for?”
Austin resumed his course without comment. Really, what was there to say?
In Jess’s sitting room, he took the soft recliner covered in a loud floral print. His phone was still in his hand. He rested it on his lap, staring down at it.
“And here we go.” Mr. Tom bustled in wearing his full tux with the moth-eaten edges and set the glass beside Austin on a little table. “Will you be needing anything else?”
“Thank you, and no.” Austin reached for the glass. “You’ll need to get some new attire, Mr. Tom. Tailored. The house crew will need something other than oddly fitting purple muumuus.”
“I am one step ahead of you, sire—”
“Don’t call me sire.”
“Master, then.”
“Alpha is fine.”
“Yes, sir. I will leave you to your affairs. Call me if you need anything.”
“I won’t, Mr. Tom, thank you. You can go to bed.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll just be in the kitchen if you need me.”
Austin stared at nothing for a moment while Mr. Tom made his way out of the room and closed the door after him. It had been a while since someone had so flagrantly ignored his directives. Strangely, it didn’t bother him. Expecting Mr. Tom to act in any way normal was an exercise in disappointment.
He took a sip, stalled a little longer, and then finally picked up the phone. If he was lucky, he’d get the answering machine. It was late, after all. Maybe she’d changed her usual hours…
“Austin,” she said on the third ring, her voice that familiar tough sandpaper rasp. “Do you want information or need help?”
He couldn’t help a smile as he leaned back into the chair. She’d always cut right to the chase. Zero room for superfluous words. Even in this situation, when they hadn’t spoken in so long.
“Hello, Mimi. Both, if possible.”
She didn’t comment. He’d started the conversation by calling, and now she expected him to lead it.
He hadn’t realized until this moment how much he’d missed her.
“Firstly,” he said, “just to get this out there…I’m sorry. For leaving like I did, for not calling…for everything.”
“Even as a boy, you’ve always gone your own way. You found any barrier that existed and wouldn’t rest until you’d crashed your way through it. I’m glad you eventually found your destination. The thing about family is, we’re always here when you find your way back.”
He let out a slow breath and then took another sip of whiskey. “I can’t get back quite yet.”
“Has your brain gone soft, boy? I didn’t mean physically.”
He huffed out a laugh and then shook his head. “Point taken. What’s going on over there? Kingsley says that mages have been sneaking in to test his defenses. He says the attacks are weak. Is that true? You know him—he won’t admit he actually needs help until danger is breathing down his neck.”
“The attacks do seem weak, yes. They attack the defenses in seemingly random patterns. That mage has never attacked a pack as strong and well organized as Kingsley’s. He might be realizing he’s bitten off more than he can chew.”
Austin took another sip of his drink. Wouldn’t that be a miracle. He wasn’t sure, though. That didn’t sound like the mage Sebastian had talked about.