They were in Wells Cathedral, because the passing of the latest Coddington merited a fucking cathedral.
It also merited the study at Treverton eventually being turned into a kind of war room with everyone pitching in considering there were hundreds of “mourners” showing, a good number of them people of importance.
This not only necessitated organizing eulogies, floral arrangements, choir selections and choices of hymns, but also coordination of security details, collaboration with the police, and plans to contain the media.
It was like a fucking timed tactical mission.
And Nora Ellington was, as far as Dair could tell, the general.
He was standing in the vestibule of the cathedral with Sully, Gage, Dru, Cadence, Rix and Hale.
Though Dair reckoned it was only he and Hale who had their eyes glued to Blake (he’d noted she was especially close with the multibillionaire) as she stood wearing a classy, though demure (however, it was skintight, and she was Blake, so not that demure) black dress and very un-demure, high-heeled, shiny black pumps. Ned and Alex were with her.
Rix likely had his attention locked on his wife.
The G-Force, all of them (as well as a couple of Blake’s girlfriends) were surprise arrivals.
They were taking this opportunity to have a holiday in England, and as such, were staying in London as their first stop. They’d texted a couple of days ago to share they’d be coming. They’d taken the train that morning in order to attend the service, but mostly, to attend Blake.
However, taking time out of their lives to fly across an ocean to be there for Blake had shaken his woman—in a good way.
And Dair had been right. He’d met Ryan, Bryan, Byron, Wallace, Teddy and Faunus, and he liked them immediately.
He liked them more now as they circled Blake and her family like sharks, ready to take a bite out of anyone who caused the slightest unease. So, aye, it was safe to say he liked them very much.
Regardless of how the two sisters felt about her, even if Nora was at the helm, Blake and Alex had painstakingly crafted this event as something Helena would approve of. The flowers, music choices, and for some reason it was important that they were both wearing hats.
Alex’s was no-nonsense black, 20s style what Blake referred to as a “cloche.”
Blake’s was more daring and dramatic, had some see-through elements, a bow at the back and was worn tipped high on one side and slanted over the other eye.
They were perfect for each woman.
Those hats had been a scramble, one of many Nora had bested. Then again, Dair had noticed that there wasn’t much Nora couldn’t best. She was a stern but loyal general and a miracle worker rolled into a tall, attractive, loving package.
“You know, the ‘butler’ is a problem,” Rix said, keeping his voice low, and gaining Dair’s attention.
“Blake gave him hell a few days ago,” Dair replied. “He should toe the line for a while. Or at least until she figures out how to get rid of him.”
“Days ago?” Rix asked in a tone that made Dair stop watching his woman and look to Rix.
“She did it the day you and Alex arrived,” he said.
Rix shook his head. “Man, I hate to tell you this, but that asshole has been seeping attitude everywhere he goes.”
Hale grunted his agreement.
Dair started to get pissed off.
“Chloe needed something for JT,” Rix went on, “and he told her to keep her pants on, using those words. Then he never showed with it. Chloe isn’t at home. She doesn’t know where shit is. Eventually she flagged down one of the maids who got it for her.”
Dair clenched his teeth.
“Chloe is not one to cross,” Hale put in. “The only reason she’s keeping quiet about it is because she doesn’t want to upset Blake, Alex or Ned.”
“His deal is, he’s being cool whenever those three are around, and you,” Rix added. “Outside of that, he’s being a total fuckwad.”
“Hmm, I heard the word ‘fuckwad’ said in a church. Are we talking about Jeff?” Chloe asked as she joined them.
