Page 74 of Wrath’s Nightingale

“I had no idea rice came in this many varieties.”

“There are even more white, minute, jasmine, arborio. You can make each so many ways. I’m making the red rice two different ways. Mexican and Thai.”

“What are you doing with the black rice?”

“Forbidden and one with corn and cranberries. Speaking of corn. Can you get that big charcoal grill going?”

“Yes ma’am. I’ll get right on that.”

The next two hours, we did meal prep work. Dividing it into individual portions and storing them in the fridge. We were almost done when Wrath sent me a message that said they had a lead. I have no idea where he’s going, but I have a feeling my life will never be the same wherever it is. I do know I trust my husband implicitly. I also know I need to keep busy and not think about the potential danger my husband could be in.

I cook when I’m stressed. Something Wrath has yet to find out since I’ve been in a cast most of our marriage. Then again, I really haven’t been stressed, not even when the twins first came home, and we had to get them on a sleep schedule.

A pang hits me, and I realize how bonded I’ve become to them. They’re my babies in every way. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t give birth to them or that we wanted to wait to have kids. I’m a mom and a wife. It all happened in less than thirty days.

I select a playlist from my phone and turn the music up loud.

?

By the time I heard the rumble of engines Jones and I have a feast prepared. The Baton Rouge club is only about half the size of our club in New Orleans making dinner easier to prepare. Wild rice with citrus and mushrooms, cedar planked salmon, lemon and dill potatoes, penne pasta with broccoli rabe and shrimp, crab cakes, spinach and kale and apple salad with pecans and a honey balsamic vinaigrette and a fresh fruit salad with a lightly sugared lime mint syrup.

I’m pulling fresh loaves of multi-grain bread from the oven when I hear footsteps. As I put the loaves on a cooling rack, I see Wrath come in. The look on his face tells me something is wrong.Bear, Pyro, Preacher, and Triton wear similar looks. I hurry to meet Wrath. He pulls me into his arms and kisses the top of my head.

“It’s over baby.”

I pull back slightly and look up at him.

“What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy that it’s over. I figure Aaron is a big bully and when someone stood up to him, he folded.”

Wrath shook his head. “That’s not how it went down. They pulled guns.”

I feel myself go pale. I step back and scan my husband from head to toe before doing the same with the others. Wrath shakes his head. “None of us are hurt. Nightingale, let’s go sit down.”

I let him lead me to a table and pull out a chair for me. I sit down and he sits across from me and takes both my hands in his. He’s starting to worry me.

“I don’t know any easy way to say this. Felicity and Aaron are dead.”

I go numb and feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience. I stand up and start getting dishes out of the cabinet.

“I need time to process. Let’s eat.”

I feel hands on my shoulders. I look up to see Wrath looking down at me. Concern written all over his face.

“I’m here, baby. How can I help?”

“Eat before it gets cold.”

I go numbly through the motions of putting food on my plate and sitting at the dining room table. It’s located just outside the kitchen. They had a nice dining area. The previous cafeteria that’s been divided by a folding wall. I wonder if they move it for parties.

I can’t believe my tormentor is dead. It rattles around in my brain while I mindlessly fork food into my mouth. I barely taste it. Aaron’s dead. Gone. He can never hurt me again. Still, Ihadn’t wanted him dead. But he had a gun. And he likely shot at Wrath and the other King’s.

Aaron isn’t the only one dead, though. So is Felicity. I wrack my brain for some semblance of feelings. Remorse, regret, sadness. Something. The woman that gave birth to me is dead. Maybe dessert will make it all better. I push back my chair and stand up. Then the world goes black.

Wrath

My poor Nightingale. She’s in shock. I watch her as she picks at her food. She eats a few bites aimlessly before moving the food around on her plate. After a few minutes, she suddenly stands. I turn to ask if I can help when she collapses. I catch her before she hits the floor.

Trident is out of his seat and beside us in seconds. I know from previous experience he has corpsman training. Though he became a forensic specialist for the Navy.

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