Everyone wanted to be the first to test their generators, which would have thrilled her a year ago. Now, all she could do was grit her teeth and get through each round of questioning, thinking,Ruby should be here. She should be answering this.
Always vigilant about her comfort, Kaz smoothed his hand over her arm and changed the subject. “Where’s Callen?”
Atria watched the were attentively, knowing full well that her mate had been receiving updates on the gargoyle’s position every five minutes since he landed in the territory. She wondered what he might learn from Rasmus’s reaction to the question. Something important, probably, but she was at a loss for what it could be.Good thing I’m not the spymaster.
Rasmus spread his arms out across the back of the booth, the very picture of ease. “Should be here any minute. Got word he’d made it into the city about thirty minutes ago.” He huffed a laugh. “S’funny. Even gargoyles on the wrong side of the law are sticklers about punctuality.”
It took conscious effort not to tense. Even knowing exactly who they were meeting, that she was safe and that Rasmus was there to act as a mediator, Atria’s stomach tightened at the idea of sitting across from a gargoyle. A gargoyle from the very same clan as Dan and the other men who attacked her in the parking lot.
All things told, Atria thought she’d recovered from her ordeals remarkably well in the weeks since their return to the Protectorate. But certain things liked to lurk in the depths of the mind, only to remerge when least expected. She had the occasional nightmare about Norman, and whenever someone mentioned gargoyles, dread made nausea swell.
Of course, Kaz could sense it every time even the smallest amount of distress leaked across the bond. He’d been staunchly against her joining him for this meeting because of it. However, Atria was bound and determined to be a part of this, not just so she could confront her fears but so she could actively participate in the hunt to find her best friend.
Besides, she was safe. Even if by some miracle a threat managed to get through Kaz, they hadn’t come alone. Theodore was still tetchy about their “little adventure,” so he’d assigned them a temporary bodyguard unit, which sometimes comprised members of Fracture and sometimes the upper levels of Patrol depending on who was available.
It was part protection and part surveillance. It irked her mate, but Atria was glad they weren’t alone in the bar. Though she couldn’t see them, she could feel the elves on the roof, lurking just outside, and in the shadows. If anything happened, they would be ready to help in an instant.
Not that anything would. Delilah assured her all kidnapping attempts were in the past, and though Kaz had issues taking his sister’s word at face value, Atria didn’t.
As far as she was concerned, Delilah had saved her life several times over. It was likely that none of them would ever know the extent to which the former sovereign had interfered to get Kaz and Atria together, but she guessed it was more than just handing a file over and showing up at the last minute.
And really, even if itwasjust that, wasn’t that enough to earn her trust? A woman who was willing to do all that, not to mention blow up a Healing House, for the sake of her family, was not about to endanger them.
So when Atria texted her to ask if they would be safe at the meeting, she trusted the answer she received:
You’ll be fine. Also, when you’re not on pseudo house arrest anymore, Winnie wants you over for dinner. She wants to try cooking. Sorry in advance.
Was she still nervous about meeting the gargoyles? Certainly. But she trusted Delilah, not only because of what she’d done for her already, but because she’d confessed to scouring the future for Ruby — every single day.
The whole Solbourne family seemed to agree that Delilah had become increasingly agitated about the witch’s whereabouts. Unfortunately, she refused to say why — only that Ruby was underground somewhere, or would be. Or had been. Perhaps all three.
Atria had learned quickly that it was impossible to say anything definitive when it came to Delilah and what she was willing to disclose. All she knew was that the elf had earned her trust, even if everyone thought she was a little foolhardy for feeling that way.
We’re safe,she reminded herself again as the swinging, flier-covered door to the bar opened. Even the dim lighting and curling tendrils of smoke couldn’t obscure the hulking figures of two gargoyles.
Rasmus raised a hand and casually flicked his claws, waving them over. The two men caught his greeting and began striding toward their booth, their wings tucked close to their backs as they avoided milling patrons and tall tables covered in half-empty drinks.
Her stomach lurched.
Kaz all but hauled her into his lap as they drew near, sheltering her beneath the powerful curve of his bicep. Speaking in a whisper, he asked, “You good, princess? We can leave right now, no questions asked.”
“I’m okay.” She took a deep breath. Drawing on his ocean of steady determination, she managed to summon a smile. “I’ve got my knife, remember?”
His dark eyes traced her expression. She could practically feel him weighing her clear need to see this through with his desire to protect her before, with an almost imperceptible sigh, he rumbled, “Damn right you do.”
“Then I’ll be fine.”
He didn’t seem entirely convinced, but she was relieved when he didn’t press the issue. Stroking her arm with his thumb, Kaz leaned back into the booth to eye the gargoyles. His expression was stony but aggression hummed in every rigid line.
Calm.She caressed his thigh under the table.We can do this, big guy.
Really, if they got through this meeting without bloodshed, she’d call it a win.
When the men stopped at the edge of the table, Atria was relieved to note that neither held any overt resemblance to Dan.
The leader, who stepped closest to the table and met Kaz’s eye boldly, was a pale bluish-gray. His hair was a shock of white, shaved on the sides and pulled back into a tight braid. His features were bold, slightly blocky, and his mouth had a hard, stubborn set that reminded her a bit of her mate.
A step behind him was a taller, rangy gargoyle. He had skin that was a fascinating mottled gray and dark, shoulder-length hair swept out of his eyes. Both men wore casual clothing, but she noticed that the leader, almost certainly Callen, wore a pressed button down. Despite the fact that they’d flown in, there wasn’t even a hint of a wrinkle in the man’s outfit.
