Page 7 of Blades and Bone

“We don’t speak unless directly asked. Most of the points have already been hammered out. Try not to let everything show on your face.”

“You know what they’ve been discussing?”

“I’m not answering that.”

That was a yes, but he couldn’t say anything, and whatever Ann had said to him meant that he wasn’t about to break another rule.

“How worried should I be?”

“The raid was a three out of ten. This is a solid seven.”

Hamish rocked onto his heels. Yeah, sure, they were in Ashby territory, but they didn’t deal in weapons or drugs like the Orlans.

“Face,” Garrick warned.

Hamish tried to make his face neutral and wasn’t sure he was successful. “I don’t get it. Why?”

“Negotiations like this are always dangerous.” Garrick pulled him into an embrace. “You’ll be fine. We will be fine.”

Before Hamish could lift his arms, Garrick released him. “Hair and straighten up.”

“I feel like a lame henchman.”

“It’s too late for a haircut, and my mother likes us to be tidy. You have always pushed that to the edge.”

Hamish sighed and pulled the hair elastic off his wrist. “You can have long hair and be tidy. But who fights in a suit? It’s ridiculous.”

“Rules…you can’t break them all. Be selective.”

Hamish nodded. Garrick had been reminding him of that for years. “You followed all the rules until Trent.”

“No, I followed most and performed well enough that the rest didn’t matter. Trent…”

Hamish smiled. “Is a mistake you’d make again.”

“He is. But I never expected the fallout would be so wide. Even I make mistakes.”

Hamish lowered his voice. “Is this a mistake?”

Garrick shook his head. “We need to stop the Orlans, and we can’t do it on our own, and the Ashbys can’t defend themselves. I agree with the idea, but not the execution.”

His watch buzzed, and Garrick glanced at it. “Okay, let’s go.”

Hamish’s heart lurched. He was not ready to go. He wanted to be bored a little longer.

Chapter Five

Hamish expected everyone to be in the meeting room, but it was only Ann and Elizabeth, and Garrick and him from the Reids. He stood next to Garrick, behind the two women. On the other side of the table sat Vivian, with two bodyguards behind her—including Brodie.

The matriarchs went through the treaty line by line to be clear on what had been agreed. The kind of support that was to be provided and what created an official request for help. There were far too many clauses, and Hamish tuned out. The beach wasn’t that far away, and he’d checked the surf reports before they’d left Perth. He wanted to get his feet wet and test the waves on the east coast at least once before he went home.

According to Garrick, Brodie was Vivian’s brother. He ran the resort and his brothers ran the cattle stations. Brodie was also staring at him once again, and not in a way that implied he wanted to rip out his throat or fuck out his brains—the latter might have been interesting—but a weighted stare as if he was trying to figure out who he was. Surely the Ashbys had files and knew things about him. Not that he was very interesting.

“We are agreed?” Vivian asked.

Next to him, Garrick shifted his weight. Did he have a weapon hidden on him? What was going on?

“We are. As a sign of our faith and to join our families, we offer our blood, Hamish Reid,” Ann said in the same tone she’d used for every other clause.