Page 12 of Empress of Ruin
“It wasn’t a question,” I clarify. My phone starts buzzing, and I glance down at it, brows furrowing when I glimpse the caller ID.Not good.
“Actually, you may end up having to eat alone. I’ll have my housekeeper get you settled. I have to go.”
“You’re… leaving?”
I look up at her confused, small tone. “Would you like me to stay?” I wouldn’t be able to even if she said yes, but it would feel good.
She catches herself quickly. “No.”
“Mm.” I smile, reaching forward to stroke a few strands of hair from her forehead. “How’s your ass?”
“In pain, you—”
“Don’t finish that sentence. I don’t have time to punish you right now.” I rub my thumb over her bottom lip. “You’ll find arnica cream in our bathroom. Apply generously.” I touch my forehead to hers, taking a moment to breathe her in, turn, and leave.
It’s not often I get summoned to speak directly with a member of The Eyes more senior than myself. I expect it has something to do with the moves Silas has been making behind the scenes.
He invites me to a nondescript, underground speakeasy he owns in West Harlem. It’s a quiet place, not named on any maps, and I’m reasonably certain he keeps it for moments just likethis. A security guard at the front leads me to a private elevator, which spits me out in a cavernous basement hallway leading to an office.
The lights are dim. The room is filled with an eeriness. If I were easily shaken, I’d be very worried right about now—but I happen to be meeting with the only man I could really refer to as a loose ally in the eyes.
He’s an older man, somewhere in his sixties, with a head of thick salt-and-pepper hair and a permanently stern expression. He also has a controlling stake in almost every media and telecom outlet in the world, making him a formidable force to be reckoned with, and extremely valuable friend to have.
“Vega,” he greets me, beady eyes empty of emotions.
“Herald,” I return, referring to him by his chosen honorific in The Eyes. “How may I help?”
“Fix yourself a drink and take a seat.” He motions to the bar cart in the corner of the room. “You’ll need it.”
Well, then. I pour myself a scotch and pretend to get comfortable across from him. I’m not, of course, but there’s no use in showing my apprehension.
“Silas has been making friends,” he begins.
I nod. “It would seem so.” Rather than permanently beating him down, what I did to him nearly half a year ago seemed to knock some sense into him. He started being somewhat strategic, which makes me almost certain that he’s not acting alone. Silas doesn’t have enough braincells to play a good game of chess; his entrance to The Eyes, and his ability to get any power whatsoever, was purely based on inheritance.
“You may know, but you don’tknow,” Herald says. “Bull is backing him.”
I tilt my head to the side. That is indeed a curious development. Bull is the global banker out of us; he controls thestock markets. My previous friendliness with him is precisely why I’ve known exactly where I should invest.
What would make him jump ship?He’s not known for developing close alliances; he’s quite the lone wolf. Very protective of his money and reputation.
“Alright,” I drawl. “Your point being?”
“You erred in extracting a pound of flesh from Silas. You erred all the more by doing so over awoman.” He says woman derisively enough to make my blood simmer.
“Not just any woman.” I keep my tone carefully calm, my expression wiped clean of emotion. “My fiancée.”
“Yes, the fiancée who disappeared? Who you’ve only just gotten a hold of… today?”
It takes some effort not to tense. Is he having me watched? More importantly, are The Eyes watching me closely? Senior members are usually exempt from surveillance. At least, theyshouldbe exempt. If I’m under surveillance, that means I’m under a good deal of suspicion for… something.
That could shape up to be a big fucking problem.
“Threat level?”
“Up in the air. For now, controlled. If Silas manages to build a coalition against you…” he lets the implication land.
Istilldon’t regret what I did to Silas one bit.
