Luckily, Tao had done an excellent job of blending in, and he was forgotten about throughout the years, a skill highly valued by the rebellion. In the last few months, he’d become my right-hand man, feeding me any information he could glean that might be important. His status as a servant had been incredibly useful when it came to eavesdropping on Council conversations, sneaking into offices, and even picking up on the idle rumor mill that circled among the remaining servants.
“The steak you asked for has been prepared to your liking and is waiting on the table,” Tao commented, the common phrase a secret code that told me he had information. Without missing a beat, he continued. “Your night cap is sitting on the dining room table as well, and your suits have been neatly pressed and placed in the closet as requested,” Tao stated, back to being my butler. “If that will be all, sir?” With a wry smirk and a small, stilted bow at the waist, he awaited further instruction.
“Fuck,” I whispered under my breath as I strode to his side. He straightened when I stopped, standing shoulder to shoulder where only he could hear my low tone. “You know how much I hate this formality between us. You’re a friend.”
“Don’t.” Tao shifted his eyes around the room, warning me of the dangerous ground on which I tread. “I’m no more than a butler. A footman. A servant. I always have been. You know this.” The hard glint in his eyes spoke to the fire he contained daily, the rasp in his tone concealing exactly how difficult it was for him to be someone he wasn’t—someone lesser.
I let the subject drop with a sigh and a sharp nod. It helped to know the time left on his sentence was almost up. As soon as we left this place behind, Tao would be free to be the man he truly was. We both would be. Until then, however...
I pulled my shoulders back and side-eyed my friend. “You’re dismissed.” The reply was curt and exactly what was expected of me as a Councilman. I couldn’t let myself slip again. The other Council members would be instantly suspicious if they knew I was lenient with the help. “And, Tao,” I called, turning briskly and catching his attention once more before he reached the front door. “I expect a wakeup call promptly at six. I have a full schedule of meetings tomorrow.”
Tao’s lips pulled up microscopically in the corners, and he inclined his head in a gesture of reverence. “As you wish, Councilman Williams.”
Fuck, he knew how much I hated being called that. It instantly made me feel like my father. Hell, just having the word ‘councilman’ attached to my name at all made me feel unclean.
As soon as the door shut and I was alone, I relaxed on a lengthy breath. Striding to the dining room, I tried not to look at the furnishings I hadn’t picked out or the wall hangings I never would have chosen. The entire room was a vestige of Damien’s parents, and I felt like an impostor every time I was within these chambers.
Shrugging out of my suit jacket, I left it a crumpled mess on the floor as I loosened my tie, breathing a little easier once it hung lax around my neck.
My stomach lurched and rolled at the sight of the domed, silver dish that sat on the table, and I braced my hands on either side of it, staring at my distorted reflection in the rounded surface. The sharp edge of the wooden table dug into my palms from the strength of the grip I levied on its surface. Revulsion caused acid to burn at the back of my throat at the reminder of a gruesome set of gargoyle wings spread out macabrely on a similar serving tray.
I hastily opened the dish and flipped the steak over, ripping it apart to find the foil encased note that had been slipped inside.
It was a copy of orders from Stepanov’s office activating their militia. Half were called home, while the others were being stationed around the world—one in each community. As it stood, there were several sizable communities just like ours around the United States and abroad, developments where shifters and mythologicals alike lived together under the rule of leaders the Council had appointed to do their bidding. The Council’s reach was expansive, and the fact that they were mobilizing like this told me they were preparing for a tactical strike. You didn’t send out your enforcers unless you needed to keep people in line and remind them who was in charge. The flex of muscle didn’t surprise me, however I couldn’t help but worry. A brick settled into the pit of my stomach as I thought about Nix and the guys. I needed to be there with them if the Council was going to make a move. There was no way in hell I’d be sitting behind enemy lines when Stepanov and his followers waged an attack against the people I loved most.
Just a little longer, I told myself. Just long enough to find out what their exact move will be and then I’m out, intel be damned.
Balling up the missive, I set it in a silver dish and grabbed matches, lighting it on fire and watching it burn to nothing but ash.
The fire reminded me of my mate, bringing me right back to missing Nix. Plucking the glass off the table, I downed some of the rum before dumping the rest, letting the alcohol chase the charred remains of evidence down the drain. I discarded the meal, checked the clock, and headed to the bathroom for a shower to pass the time before I was scheduled to meet Ciarán in my dreams.
Taking comfort and relaxation from the small things had been part of what kept me going day to day, but tonight, not even the hot spray and beckoning water were enough to clear my head. Exhaustion weighed on my shoulders as I padded to my room and slumped down on the bed, burying my head in my hands.
Two months. Two heartbreaking, agonizing, endless months since I had seen my mate. Every day seemed to tear another strip of my heart from my chest, the lashes leaving me bleeding and breathless.
I wondered what Nix was up to at that moment. I hoped she was cuddled up with one of the others who could be with her when I couldn’t. That was the beauty of a harem. Nix would never have to be alone. One of us would always be there to keep her safe.
The clock on the wall ticked slowly, and though I still had some time before meeting Ciarán, I eventually gave in and lay down, pulling the blankets up over my stomach. Bracing an arm over my forehead, I closed my eyes and tried to relax, keeping my mental blockade firmly in place as I ran through the information I needed to share with Ciar one last time. Soon, I’d be utilizing the Council’s tricks against them in war, but for tonight, I just wanted to pretend my mate was in my arms. I curled into my pillow, forcing myself to breathe deeply and evenly until that dark, blissful oblivion staked its claim.
“Took you long enough,” I griped at a cheery Ciarán, as he bounced happily from mist to solid form in the span of a second.
It still shocked me to see the guy generate from nothing, especially in the recesses of my consciousness like this. There was something invasive about knowing he could pick through my mind at will, though I had no reason to suspect he would do so. Since the Celt had shown up that day at the waterfall and divulged the information that set me on my path to Nix, I trusted him implicitly, and tonight was no different.
“Aww,” Ciarán cooed, before perching himself on a fluffy cloud that hadn’t been there a moment ago, easily creating whatever environment he wanted to in my dreams, “you missed me.”
“Or something.” I rolled my eyes, but damn if he wasn’t right. It was true I missed him as a direct link to my family—my mate—but I also missed the Celt for his humor and the sense of familiarity and friendship his visits brought in their own right.