Page 30 of Eight of Swords, Part Two

‘I think it’ll be something small.’

‘I meant later. Night.’ Danya cocks his head. ‘Out?’

The thought had literally not even occurred to Lachlan.

Since they came back from Sable Key, the outside world has all but ceased to exist. It takes him a moment to recall.

Clubs. Music. Dancing.

Things that Jules loves.

‘Right. Yeah, maybe.’

‘I will prep Zaitsev.’ Danya claps his back. ‘Rain training was probably not a great idea, though. Just FIY.’

‘F-Y-I,’ Lachlan corrects.

‘If you say so, tovarishch.’

Lachlan watches him go, only feeling safe enough to turn his back once Danya is in the Cove with Savannah, Jules, Vasily and Mimi.

Blaire, for the first time since fairground burgers, has taken a day off.

Lachlan doesn’t know how to feel about it.

The outside world is not a bad thing.

It’s what he wants for Jules and Mimi.

It’s what they deserve.

Just because he’s lost all interest in it for himself in a way that feels irreversible, that doesn’t apply to everyone else.

And if anyone deserves a day off, it’s Blaire Montbelliard.

In the West Wing, he performs the typical alignment checks, speaks to Rook about the dailies. In a place this size, all kinds of things need all kinds of attention, and Lachlan likes to be overcautious as standard.

He finds Carrigan in her office, two full corridors away from Penhalyx’s own. They rarely meet here, preferring the small room Lachlan uses to work on the schedule, but today he needs to make an effort.

His knock is answered after five seconds. ‘Enter.’

Carrigan’s office has changed significantly since the last time Lachlan was in here. What elements of creeping luxury he saw before have been stripped away to make an impressively modern command centre. One wall is given over to seamless black displays, live security feeds shifting silently across them alongside maps, personnel logs and the movements of every vehicle on the grounds. Her desk is broad, pale stone veined with gold, its glass surface waking beneath her fingertips to reveal files, schedules and encrypted communications.

It’s almost exactly like Penhalyx’s desk, only better.

From here, Priscilla Carrigan can see almost every corner of the Estate and control all of it without leaving her chair or consulting the head of security.

‘Wow. Big change.’

She shrugs. ‘Overdue. What do you want?’

‘I want to talk about yesterday and apologise to you.’ He adds the last part to foster goodwill because her body language speaks volumes. ‘Please.’

Carrigan gestures for Lachlan to take the seat.

‘Before anything, I need you to tell me that you recognise my rank.’

‘Of course I do.’