Page 113 of Blood Stone
Chapter Twenty-Four
Nial stood waiting on the inside of the closed and barred door to the reception area when Sebastian got there.
“You’re you,” Nial said mildly, looking at his hair. He had left the wig off.
“It’s late. No one is up except us. You called me and Garrett, so this is our business, not movie business. Everyone in the hangar is very nearly family anyway.” Sebastian shrugged. “And as you keep saying, in a while, it’s really not going to matter, anyway.”
“But for now, it does.”
“Not tonight. Even the watchmen don’t know who we are. Back off, Nial. I thought it through.”
“Very well, then,” Nial agreed. “In that case.” He drew Sebastian closer and kissed him. It wasn’t a light peck, either.
Sebastian gripped the shoulder of Nial’s shirt for balance. “Gach na naoimh...” he murmured.
“Ego desiderari vobis, dilectus meus.” Nial sighed. “More than I anticipated,” he added. “Being the watchdog means I am as guarded as the one I’m guarding.”
“That makes three of us,” Sebastian replied. “Winter was at Garrett’s beck and call and now she is always with her people.”
Nial cupped his cheek. “Be happy for her, Bastian.”
“I am. But she’s learning how to be like them. Vicent tossed us around the room like we were chopsticks, that first day.”
“Your point?”
Sebastian shifted on his feet. “I don’t like it.”
Nial grinned. “You don’t like not being the most powerful species on the planet anymore. Get used to it, Sebastian.” He reached for the bar on the door. “Ready?”
“I suppose.”
Nial slid the bar aside and opened the door. Sebastian stepped through and Nial locked it behind them.
The reception area was lit with minimal lighting – enough for the watchmen to find their way about. The guard who had come to find Nial and bring him to the front sat on the low secretary’s desk in the front corner of the area. The desk was never used, but it was nicely placed for the guard, now, to keep an eye on the only other occupant in the reception area.
The man was nearly as tall as Nial, but slightly leaner. He stood with arms relaxed at his sides. He showed no signs of impatience even though he had been waiting at least twenty minutes.
In casual L.A. where jeans and tee-shirts were the norm everywhere but on the red carpet, he looked out of place. He wore formal trousers and a lightweight dark-coloured coat that Sebastian immediately spotted as English tailoring. It made him think of stodgy old clubs, executive dining rooms, banks that probably looked the same today as they did fifty years ago, and an old boys network of influential businessmen and peers that ran most of Britain.
He shuddered at the memories it raised.
The man looked from Nial to Sebastian, then back to Nial with a pair of very black eyes, but his expression didn’t change. He had the clear, pale skin of an Englishman, high defined cheekbones and a narrow black beard and moustache that framed the edge of his face and mouth.
Nial looked at the guard. “I know this man. You can leave us. I can vouch for him and I won’t take him beyond this room.”
The guard nodded. “Okay. I’ll be just beyond the door, then.” He got to his feet and left, shutting the door behind him.
“Given the Latin and Irish I heard you both speak just before you came through the door,” the man said, “I can safely assume that you are Nathaniel and Sebastian, but you are moving under assumed names in this...” he glanced around the room with a flicker of his eyes. “Edifice.” He spoke with a rich, deep baritone, his words delivered in the crisp cadences of an educated Englishman. The movement of his head brought some of the long locks of his shining black hair sliding over his shoulder, to rest against his chest. He ignored them and stared at Nial.
“Cyneric,” Nial said. Sebastian couldn’t figure out if he was speaking the name as a curse or in fear.
“We’ve no time for sentimental greetings, Nathanial.” Cyneric turned and walked toward the glassed-in front door. “You’ve made my employer wait quite long enough with your petty attempt at one-up-manship. Come along.”
Nial turned and followed, pulling out his cellphone and thumbing a text message one handed as he moved, the phone down by his thigh.
Sebastian barely managed to avoid jumping as his own phoned vibrated. He fished it out unobtrusively and scanned the screen.
Rick dangerous. Caution!
