and listened, but the mortal female remained silent, and did not try to fight his master or free herself. When he felt sure she had acquiesced—for the moment, anyway—he placed calls to some of their human friends to confirm her claims.
“She told the truth,” he said to Robin after finishing his calls. “A Paul Sherwood left Atlanta International on a chartered flight for Rome. The charter was paid for by a Helen Moran. Our people at the airport are examining their security tapes to see if this Sherwood matches Guisbourne’s description.”
“He will,” Chris said, sounding resigned. “Helen Moran manages the clothing shop next to the gallery.”
“Thank you,” Robin said.
“If he’s left the country, there’s nothing you can do,” she said, changing her manner abruptly. “Let me go, and I’ll alert Interpol. They’ll arrest him as soon as he steps off the plane in Rome.” When his master said nothing, her voice grew sharp. “Robin, that book is priceless.”
So is Reese , Will thought.
Chris tried once more to run when Will stopped outside the building, but his master seized her up in his arms and carried her struggling form inside. He didn’t put her back on her feet until they were in the elevator and traveling up to the penthouse level.
“Were there any of our Kyn who were not at the stronghold when Salva’s men took over?” Robin asked as he pried the remains of the policeman’s manacles from his wrists and gave them to Will.
“Fazio, Mason, and Sullivan were on guard duty here.” The three warriors were good men, but Will would have traded them all for his castellan, who in his human life had besieged dozens of strongholds. “Sylas said to give his love to Rebecca, so I think his wife must have gotten some of the humans and the other women out before they could secure them.”
Robin nodded. “Rebecca will bring them to our friends in Marietta before she attempts to contact us. As soon as she reports in, I shall speak to her.”
“Should we not call on our allies for assistance, my lord?” Will shoved the twisted steel cuffs into his pocket. “Suzeraina Jayr could have her garrison here in a matter of hours.”
Robin’s face became a stony mask.
“No. I do not wish the suzeraina involved in this.” The elevator stopped and he stepped out into the corridor, frowning when Chris did not. “You cannot stay in the elevator all night, love. There is no place to sit but the floor.”
She didn’t join him. “You took those cuffs off like they were made of plastic. You can make cops—anyone—do anything. You’ve got fangs. ” Her gaze skittered to Will’s face, and he saw the panic in her eyes. “What are you people?”
Had she been a Brethren operative, she would not have wasted her time feigning such innocence. She would save her energies to do whatever it took to kill or escape them.
Some of the ugly suspicion cleared from Will’s head as he said to Robin, “I shall prepare some tea.”
“Make it strong and sweet. Everything will be all right, Chris. Come.” Robin coaxed her out of the elevator and led her into his penthouse.
Will retreated to the kitchen. He stood over the sink, turning on the taps and splashing his face before he filled the kettle and put it on the stove. If they somehow survived this siege, and his master decided to install Chris in his city home, Will would have to look into purchasing a Teasmade.
Two, perhaps, if Reese survived.
Slowly he prepared a tray with a porcelain cup, saucer, cream, and sugar. He had no idea what the American took in her tea; they did so many barbaric things with it in this country that the possibilities were endless. To keep his hands busy, he took a lemon from the bowl of fruit he kept out for the mortal staff.
“There is nothing wrong with peach tea,” Reese had said to him one night after she’d raided his small larder to concoct the beverage. “It’s traditional.”
“No, tea is traditional,” he
“She told the truth,” he said to Robin after finishing his calls. “A Paul Sherwood left Atlanta International on a chartered flight for Rome. The charter was paid for by a Helen Moran. Our people at the airport are examining their security tapes to see if this Sherwood matches Guisbourne’s description.”
“He will,” Chris said, sounding resigned. “Helen Moran manages the clothing shop next to the gallery.”
“Thank you,” Robin said.
“If he’s left the country, there’s nothing you can do,” she said, changing her manner abruptly. “Let me go, and I’ll alert Interpol. They’ll arrest him as soon as he steps off the plane in Rome.” When his master said nothing, her voice grew sharp. “Robin, that book is priceless.”
So is Reese , Will thought.
Chris tried once more to run when Will stopped outside the building, but his master seized her up in his arms and carried her struggling form inside. He didn’t put her back on her feet until they were in the elevator and traveling up to the penthouse level.
“Were there any of our Kyn who were not at the stronghold when Salva’s men took over?” Robin asked as he pried the remains of the policeman’s manacles from his wrists and gave them to Will.
“Fazio, Mason, and Sullivan were on guard duty here.” The three warriors were good men, but Will would have traded them all for his castellan, who in his human life had besieged dozens of strongholds. “Sylas said to give his love to Rebecca, so I think his wife must have gotten some of the humans and the other women out before they could secure them.”
Robin nodded. “Rebecca will bring them to our friends in Marietta before she attempts to contact us. As soon as she reports in, I shall speak to her.”
“Should we not call on our allies for assistance, my lord?” Will shoved the twisted steel cuffs into his pocket. “Suzeraina Jayr could have her garrison here in a matter of hours.”
Robin’s face became a stony mask.
“No. I do not wish the suzeraina involved in this.” The elevator stopped and he stepped out into the corridor, frowning when Chris did not. “You cannot stay in the elevator all night, love. There is no place to sit but the floor.”
She didn’t join him. “You took those cuffs off like they were made of plastic. You can make cops—anyone—do anything. You’ve got fangs. ” Her gaze skittered to Will’s face, and he saw the panic in her eyes. “What are you people?”
Had she been a Brethren operative, she would not have wasted her time feigning such innocence. She would save her energies to do whatever it took to kill or escape them.
Some of the ugly suspicion cleared from Will’s head as he said to Robin, “I shall prepare some tea.”
“Make it strong and sweet. Everything will be all right, Chris. Come.” Robin coaxed her out of the elevator and led her into his penthouse.
Will retreated to the kitchen. He stood over the sink, turning on the taps and splashing his face before he filled the kettle and put it on the stove. If they somehow survived this siege, and his master decided to install Chris in his city home, Will would have to look into purchasing a Teasmade.
Two, perhaps, if Reese survived.
Slowly he prepared a tray with a porcelain cup, saucer, cream, and sugar. He had no idea what the American took in her tea; they did so many barbaric things with it in this country that the possibilities were endless. To keep his hands busy, he took a lemon from the bowl of fruit he kept out for the mortal staff.
“There is nothing wrong with peach tea,” Reese had said to him one night after she’d raided his small larder to concoct the beverage. “It’s traditional.”
“No, tea is traditional,” he
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