Page 90 of Greed: The Savage
Impatient to get to Addien, Thornwick shrugged off his cloak. “Where the hell is Latimer?” he snapped.
An attending footman relieved him of the garment and scurried off.
“Latimer put Roy on the main floors,” Jem said. “He’s gone to see to matters with his wife.” The man’s craggy features held the proper somberness for the day’s discoveries. “Dynevor’s expecting you.”
Thornwick’s jaw hardened. He didn’t need the reminder. He was to carry news to Dynevor—news sharp enough to gut a man’s livelihood.
Meanwhile, Latimer saw to the safety of his wife and babe—Latimer’s stationboughthim that right. Thornwick had no such indulgence; he moved at another man’s command.
He had spent his life working for others: the Home Office, the faceless “People of England,” Dynevor, Latimer, Wakefield. It had never mattered before. He’d never cared enough to resent it. Until now.
Jem’s voice snapped like a whip. “His lordship’s wanting you now.”
The meeting could damn well wait. Thornwick’s gaze slid to the stairway leading to Addien’s private rooms. The primitiveurge to protect her ran riot in his chest. “I’ll be along shortly.” He needed to see her. To know she was safe. Then—only then—would he tell her the news that would crack her world wide open.
He headed for her rooms.
Jem blocked his path. “Ye don’t want to do that, Thornwick.”
Oh, he bloody absolutely did. “You’d be wise to remember who your superior is,” Thornwick said, layering a steel edge into that warning.
The demons he’d glimpsed in her sightless stare when she’d spoken of Mac Diggory still prowled in his mind. They stirred something darker—an urge to put himself between her and the world, to track and kill whatever had put that look in her eyes.
Neither man budged.
Jem narrowed his eyes. “Oi remember who my superior is, Thornwick.” He continued to block Thornwick’s path. “Ye’d be wise to do the same.”
Two guards stepped out of the shadows to flank Thornwick on either side.
The need to be with Addien, see her, speak with her, and process with her his discovery proved greater than his duty and responsibility.
The savage beast within him reared up and ordered the deaths of the men who’d step between him and his sole purpose—Addien. “Get the hell out of my way,” Thornwick snarled and took a lunge for the guard.
A strong hand caught Thornwick in a vise. “For the love of Satan’s arm, Dynevor needs you.”
That biting response cut into the chaos.
Thornwick blinked slowly.
It appeared his descent into madness continued.
Roy.
Rot this bugger too. He’d take him apart with his teeth. And he’d begin with him first.
“I have this,” Roy assured the other guards, who were right to their dubious expressions.
Roy, the bloody man Addien would have absolutely said “yes” to without persuading, slapped an arm around Thornwick’s shoulders.
Growling, Thornwick shrugged him off. The other man held firm. With the same surprising strength that’d gotten Roy hired by Dynevor, the bloody bastard steered Thornwick towards Dynevor’s office.
“Get your bloody arm off me before I sever it from your body,” he snarled.
“I’m helping you,” Roy said gravely. “Trust me, Thornwick.”
“The hell you are.” And the hell he would.
Using the weight of his upper body, Thornwick shrugged and heaved the guard’s arm off him.
