“Yes,” he said. Constantine nodded.
“One last thing, which is no longer my call to make,” said Rune. He watched the two sentinels’ faces closely. “Do we tell Dragos?”
Graydon met Constantine’s blue eyes. “You know my feeling about it, but I’m also aware that I’m too close to this issue to be objective.”
“I agree with your earlier decision,” Con said to him. “Some of us have had more than enough challenges to face over the last eighteen months. If we tell Dragos, he’ll be tempted to get involved, and this doesn’t have to be his fight. We have a strong enough force as it is. We move ahead on our own.”
Rune said, “Your call, guys.”
Constantine lifted one broad shoulder. “Hey, it’s why he’s got sentinels in the first place. Otherwise, we’d be, I dunno, secretaries, or some dumb shit like that.”
For the first time in what felt like a long time, Graydon burst out laughing. “Indeed, my man,” he said. “We’d be some dumb shit like that.”
Rune clapped Graydon on the shoulder. “I’m going to check in with Carling and see what the other group has decided.”
When he left them, Constantine moved closer to Graydon. The two men watched as Rune maneuvered around furniture and people to reach Carling’s side. He touched her shoulder, and Carling’s face softened as she looked up at him. Rune leaned over to kiss her temple.
Telepathically, Constantine asked, Do you think he regrets it at all? I mean, leaving his position as First.
Maybe, sure, Graydon said. Sometimes. In certain moods. Regret’s kinda the underbelly of all those “what if” questions we ask ourselves late at night. He didn’t stop caring about any of us just because he mated with Carling. Yet, I don’t think he ever regretted mating with her. They both enjoy the work they do through their agency. It’s challenging and rewarding, and I believe he’s happy. Really happy.
I wonder what it feels like, said Con. To have someone become your whole world, and to have them rely on you. Must be a hell of a thing.
It felt painful. Necessary.
Hovering on the edge of mating as he was, he couldn’t think of any other words to describe it.
Constantine’s gaze cut sideways to him. Would you ever think about leaving your position for a woman?
The other man’s question wasn’t an idle one, he knew. Not after what everybody had witnessed happen earlier. He looked at Bel again. She was hugging Grace. As she let go, Khalil swept Grace away in a swirl of Power, no doubt taking her back home to her niece and nephew in Florida.
I made a promise, Graydon said. Not when we became sentinels. I mean recently. And I intend to do everything in my power to keep it.
Somehow, he would. Never mind that at the moment conflicting needs threatened to tear him into pieces. He would hold the course. All he had to do was figure out how.
She’s your chance, man. Con gave him a sidelong smile. You’ve got to take it.
Determination hardened his resolve. We’ll see what we have together—after.
He had calmed enough from the frenzy that had touched him earlier to remember the many tensions and challenges that lay between him and Bel. It was impossible to grapple with any of them properly, to move forward or settle emotionally, until Malphas was dead.
The Djinn may not have killed him yet, but he still had brought Graydon’s life to a stop.
One way or another, that ended tonight.
Pivoting, he took stock of everybody, assessing the mood in the room.
Tension pulled the air tight, vibrating like the string on a bow before an arrow is unleashed. People talked faster, fueled by adrenaline, their voices crisp as they laid their plans.
While the three gryphons had talked, Bel must have called Linwe, because at some point the younger Elf had arrived at the suite. Soren had also fetched another Councillor from the Elder tribunal, a tall Elven woman named Sidhiel Raina. Both the newcomers looked shocked and sober, so the others must have filled them in on the news.
Khalil returned as well, and both Djinn left to organize and transport troops of Peacekeepers to Hart Island. And somehow—Graydon hadn’t tracked how, exactly—Julian had acquired a rare Elven suit of armor.
He emerged from one of the bedrooms after donning it, carrying a helmet under one arm. The suit molded the contours of his powerful body, the subtle matte of its surface providing a natural camouflage as it reflected the colors of the room. While the camouflage would be effective in any number of scenarios, especially from a distance, this time it wouldn’t be adequate to hide him from the Djinn. Once Julian and Graydon had decided their final positions, Carling would have to cast her strongest cloaking spell in order to hide him.
Finally, Graydon couldn’t stand it any longer. He strode over to Bel, where she stood in a tight huddle with Sidhiel, Linwe, Melly, Luis and Claudia. As he approached, she turned to face him. She had been watching him too.
The others retreated. Sidhiel and Linwe lingered the longest, until Luis and Claudia took their arms and pulled them away. Surprise and objection flashed across the Elven women’s faces, but they acquiesced to the others’ urging.
As Melly left, she said quietly to Bel, “We’re ready to go when you are. We’ll wait for you outside.”
“Thank you,” Bel told her.
The door to the suite closed quietly behind the Light Fae princess.
Graydon lifted his eyebrows. “Melly’s going with you?”
Bel nodded jerkily, flattening her hands on his chest as he drew her close. Absently, she stroked her palms across his pectorals as she replied, “She said it would be too unbearable to watch and wait while Julian goes into battle.” Her dark gaze lifted to his. “I understand how she feels.”
Bowing his head, he rested his forehead against hers. “As do I. I hate that you have to confront Ferion without me.”
“We don’t have a choice,” she whispered as she clenched her fingers on his biceps. “Everything has to happen simultaneously. Soren can’t try to remove the soul lien until Julian has Malphas trapped, otherwise we’ll run the danger of tipping Malphas off. And we have no idea what’s going to happen when Soren does remove it, or what kind of attention we may draw from the rest of the household.”
He gritted his teeth. “If only there was any other way to do this. Tell me Linwe is going to guard you.”
She nodded again. “And Sidhiel. Between Sidhiel and I, we should represent enough authority to try to win some kind of control over the situation, if—if Ferion can’t.”
Ferion could die when the soul lien was removed. He could be dangerously unstable. Graydon’s face tightened as his mind raced through various catastrophic scenarios.
“Letting you go is the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” he gritted.
Just as it had been the last time. As it had been every time.
She threw her arms around his neck. “Absolutely do not worry about me,” she told him in a strong, steady voice. “Don’t give it a foothold in your thoughts. Not only will Sidhiel and Linwe be accompanying me, but also, Luis, Claudia and Melly will be going too. And Soren, at least until he frees Ferion. It’s a good, strong group. We’ll be all right.”
He needed to believe that. Tightening his arms around her, he concentrated fiercely on the sensation of her long, slender body against his.
She murmured, “You’re the one I’m worried about. Gods, Graydon. The risk you’re taking. I feel sick thinking about it.”
As dark as a raven’s wing, the vision brushed along the edge of his mind. White, black and red like heart’s blood.
It was so close now, he could almost touch it.
“Don’t think about it,” he murmured. He passed his hand over her silken hair. “Instead, think about this.”