Page 103 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

I didn’t bother hiding my laugh as Nix glared and stomped off. His scowl lingered at the door.

“Feel better?” I asked.

“Loads,” she chirped, sitting on a dry bench. “Also, Mom and Dad are off meeting with The Six.”

“Ahh,” Carr and I said in tandem, exchanging looks as we headed for the door. With our parents gone, Cali was the executive power. That meant the plan was greenlit—for the next couple hours, at least.

“How long do we have?”

“They just jumped. Two hours. Maybe three.”

“That's enough.”

Her grin turned wicked. I gave her a look as we headed down the hall. “What are you doing? Why are you smiling like that? You look like a psychopath.”

She cackled then flashed me her I-know-something-you-don’t grin that meant either glory or doom. No in-between.

“You know what else is enough?” she said smugly. “Two hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars.”

I froze. “You’re shitting me.”

My sister just beamed. “You got it, Cy.”

“Got what?” Carr asked. “Somebody catch me up, please?”

“We put a bid on the Shield of Saint Ascalon. Showed up at a private auction. Mortals didn’t know what they had—we got it cheap.”

According to our lore, the Paladins came out of the great divide, where the mother hierarchy fractured into twelve smaller factions, set to disperse throughout the known world. They served the crown until the church corrupted from within, at which point our ancestors opted to serve the balance instead.

Along the way, the mother hierarchy’s treasures had gone missing. Our history books. Our relics. The documentation of our royal line. The Middle Realm grew sick, and somehow our stories went with it, leaving her descendants to piece together what we could from the scraps left behind. The Shield of Saint Ascalon belonged to the first Paladin, allegedly imbued with his power, with a sapphire enchanted to defend the weak. Lost for centuries. And now it was coming home.

Carr blinked, impressed. “Damn.” He clapped me on the shoulder as he passed, still shaking his head when he paused outside his door, one hand on the knob. “It’s a damn good day, brother.”

One less monster in the world. Dozens of kids safe—Sadie and Ashley among them. And a relic returned to our line.

“Yeah,” I said, almost scared to say more.

“I’ll see you in the war room in ten.”

“Relish in your victory later,” Cali said, winking. “Today, we move players on the board.”

“Thanks, sis,” I muttered, ruffling her hair before heading to my room.

Music on.

Systems online.

I pulled on clothes while my software updated, scanning the web for anything up my alley. Just as I tugged on my socks, a notification popped up. Email. I reached out and tapped it open.

Bank confirmation: my security questions had been successfully changed.

Stomach bottoming out, I yanked on my boots.

Not today, ghost girl.

TWENTY-TWO

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